#It’s so interesting that it’s a huge plot point that no one in the party really took the time to get to know marcille

[k20spock]

god I love how fucked up whatever marcille and falin have going on. i tenderly sort through your bones and piece you back together. i never really knew you and you never really knew me.

[hannieehaee]

DOES HE KNOW ?

18+ / mdi

summary: after being friends with lee chan for a good portion of your life, the boy you considered nothing but your best friend suddenly starts acting different, making you slowly fall for him. problem is, you have a boyfriend.

content: friends2lovers!chan, reader has a bf, almost cheating but not actually, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), wet dream (this is actually a huge point in the plot lol), masturbation (f receiving), dry humping, more oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 9.8k

a/n: rewrote this so many times but finally finished it!! i love writing channie so i hope u guys enjoy<3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

Something was clearly wrong with you.

Was Lee Chan hot?

Nothing made sense anymore, and it had been the case for a while.

You could date it back to a little over a month ago, at one of Soonyoung's usual gatherings. This had been where it all began, or more so, where it all ended.

For some reason unknown to man, that was the day in which Chan began courting you (his words, not yours).

After years of a solid friendship between the two of you, a not-so tipsy Chan cornered you at aforementioned party and began dancing with you. This was a common occurrence between the two of you. Despite having been taken for the past few months, you were still quite liberal about your touchy relationship with your best friend. However, what happened next what was truly out of the ordinary.

"Hey," he had whispered against your ear.

"Yeah?", you giggled, entertained by the boy.

"Wanna know a secret?"

"Sure."

"I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you," and with that, the dam had broken.

You froze against his arms, eyes widening. Though he could not see, as you were holding each other far too close to make eye contact.

Maybe he was drunk?

He interrupted you before you could respond. Chan pulled away from you to look into your eyes with a fully sober look in his face.

"I'm not drunk, and I know you have a boyfriend. And I know you only see me as a friend. But give me a few weeks, and I'll change both those things," was the last thing he said before giving you a peck on the cheek (yet another common thing in your relationship) and walking away with a confident sway in his step.

Ever since then, you had been bombarded by romantic gestures from your former best friend – former because you truly had no idea how you felt about him by this point.

Chan bought you flowers, – even when it was raining – had your favorite beverage at hand any time you so happened to see him, tied your shoelaces should they ever come undone, plucked loose eyelashes from your cheeks, tucked your hair behind your ear, placed his hand at the small of your back before crossing a street, walked you to and from home, looked at you with an indescribable sweetness in his eye, he ... He did everything any girl would need to be completely swooned (and then some).

You were beyond confused as to when this change had come about. As far as you knew, you were nothing more than best friends. When had Chan even begun liking you? What had changed?

"Oh. He's always had a thing for you," was what your mutual friend Soonyoung said when you first brought it up.

"What do you mean? We've been friends for years, he's never-"

"Yeah, duh. You never showed interest, what was he supposed to do? But yeah, he's crazy about you," added Seungkwan, sipping his drink nonchalantly.

You had decided to meet up with some of your mutual friends while Chan was at work. You needed at least five minutes with your other friends without Chan getting in the way with his flirting.

"It's kinda sick, actually," interjected Soonyoung once more.

You remained quiet for a while, thinking back to every interaction you'd ever had with Chan that may have revealed his feelings for you. Unfortunately, you kept drawing blanks all the while Soonyoung stole fries from your plate, disregarding your confusion at the situation.

"But why now?", you finally asked, slapping his meddling hand away from your food.

He shrugged, "Maybe he got fed up of watching you with that guy."

"He has a name, Soonyou-"

"None of us really care enough to learn it."

That much was true. None of your friends were fans of your current boyfriend. Or of any of them, to be quite frank. You had certain lack of skill at picking them, though this time around you felt confident about your current relationship. He was nice and respectful. Maybe a little bit of a square, but you liked to think you brought out the fun in him. This was also the longest relationship you'd ever had, giving you the grand total of three months in a exclusive relationship and a month and a half of a very prolonged talking stage that took place before he ever asked you out officially.

"Is this because I've been taken for longer than usual?", you tried to assert.

"Oh! That might be it, huh?", Soonyoung agreed.

"Well, I guess he didn't want you to break your streak of failed relationships," chuckled Kwan.

With a slap to his chest, you dropped the subject, deciding to ignore the slight acceleration of your heart any time you thought about Chan's crush for too long.

At first you found it to be a bit of a joke, but his affections quickly began to wear you down. It also didn't help how blatant he was about it, constantly flirting up a storm around your friends, not caring for their amused smiles at your flustered half-rejections of his advances. The only times in which he held back were the rare occasions in which your boyfriend would join your friend group in their outings. He could be reserved at times, not really clicking with your loud friends, so his presence was not a common thing.

Being honest, you felt kind of bad at the genuine excitement Chan's crush gave you. Though you weren't sure of your feelings for him at this point, his interest flustered you tremendously. You'd always known him as a pretty and charming guy, despite never really acknowledging such things. You understood why he got so much attention from girls, though you never thought too much of it. He was your best friend, you never had any motive to consider anything further than platonic feelings for him. But now that you were questioning your feelings, you felt as if you were kind of betraying your boyfriend.

Not to misunderstand, you had no desire of pursuing anything with anyone while you were in a committed relationship. You were just not that kind of person. But the mere thought of blushing at the words of a guy who wasn't yours (all while actually having a guy of your own) made you feel ashamed. Specially considering that you already had a very grand preexisting fondness for the guy in question.

God damn you, Lee Chan.

"So, when are you gonna drop this game and finally let me take you to bed?", he whispered cockily against your ear.

He was always so goddamn confident about it; a trait you always liked about him but were beginning to detest.

As per usual, you simply jokingly groaned at him and pushed him away in a manner far too light to be considered serious.

"Fuck off, Lee Chan."

With a giggle, he stepped away, usual pep in his step as present as ever.

"I'll get you another drink, 'kay, pretty?", you lost him in the crowd after that.

You'd gone drinking with your friends yet again, though this time at a distant friend's house party. Your boyfriend was absent once more due to his personal disdain for such outings. He was simply not much of a social drinker, which was fine! It just bothered you at times how often he chose staying in rather than going out with you.

Despite your rejections of Chan, you felt embarrassed to admit that you loved the thrill of his interest in you. Never had you ever had someone so shamelessly after your affections despite your lighthearted refusals. It made you feel wanted and powerful. It felt specially good when it came from a guy as handsome and charismatic as Chan; a guy who could have basically any girl all thanks to his unbelievable charisma.

Yet he wanted you. He was after you.

The guy you knew most was currently infatuated with you.

Yeah, you did need that second drink.

"Where's your guy?"

Your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice coming from behind you.

You turned around to find Vernon leaning back against the wall, a smirk on his face at having watched your encounter with Chan.

"Shut up," you walked over to recline on the wall next to him, deciding to people-watch alongside him.

"It was a genuine question," he claimed, handing you a sip of the beer he'd been nursing.

"He's working again," you sipped, handing it back to take turns as you waited for Chan to bring you your drink of choice.

"And Channie?"

"What about him?"

"Does your boyfriend know?", he asks, more curious than actually interested.

Men, nosy as usual.

You groan, "Don't ask me that, Non."

"C'mon! Has he not noticed the way Chan's been after you these past few weeks?", he seemed far too entertained by the subject.

"Of course not! Chan's kept his distance around him, but ..."

"But?"

You turned your head to him, back still leaning against the wall, "I don't know!"

"Well, do you like him? Channie, I mean."

"It's- I like the attention."

"And him?", he pressed.

"He's starting to wear me down," you admitted.

Vernon chuckled into his red solo cup, "It's cute."

"What is?"

"The back and forth, the 'will they, won't they.' But if you ask me, I think they will."

"I have a boyfriend, Non," you grumbled, not entirely convincing in your tone.

"Yeah, but are you guys even friends? Wouldn't it be better to date someone who you actually like?"

"Stop doing PR for Chan. It's not like he needs it," you grumbled, already uses to this back and forth with many of your other friends – all of whom were rooting for Chan.

"Fine. But get out of here. Your guy's probably looking for you."

"My guy's not here."

"I meant Channie, now go!"

You grumbled again before walking in the direction in which Chan had left, knowing he'd likely still be in the kitchen attempting to fetch you a drink.

It didn't take you long to find him, nor did it take you long to spot the girl standing next to him, seemingly flirting up a storm. Chan didn't seem too deterred by this either. More than anything, he appeared to he reciprocating.

Maybe this was why you and Chan started off as friends and remained so for the years you'd known each other. He always had a girl clinging onto him one way or another. Though he didn't date much, he sure enjoyed swooning girls whenever he could.

You'd always been very strict about being exclusive with whoever you dated, never wanting to compete for someone's attention or engage in prolonged talking stages. This was something you differed in with Chan. He was quite the opposite, engaging in situationships that never really led anywhere. As his friend, you never really cared much for this. If it worked for him, then that was that. However, now that he was supposedly attempting to pursue you, – despite you being in a relationship – you couldn't help but scoff at the sight of Chan still entertaining any girl that'd show interest in him.

You almost turned around and left, but were promptly stopped by the man himself, who spotted you before you could take one step and disregarded the girl immediately. The girl scoffed in your place, clearly put off by Chan's attention being taken away so easily.

"Babe!", he called out, one drink in each hand, as he approached you, "Sorry I took so long, the line was crazy."

Immaturely enough, you rolled your eyes and grabbed the drink from his hand, ignoring his statement as you sipped it. You really had no right to be jealous of Chan talking to other girls. You were taken, and you weren't even interested in Chan. Were you? Still, you disregarded those thoughts and allowed the bitterness to cloud your mind and began walking away from the boy.

"Huh?", a question mark physically manifested itself above Chan's head as you began walking away from him, "Baby? Wait, where are you going?", his arm managed to reach you before you got far enough and softly turned you around to face him.

The two of you were still standing far too close to the people crowding the kitchen, however, so Chan assessed that it'd be better to move to a quieter spot in order to properly check in on you. With a decisive nod to himself, he grabbed onto your hand and walked you over to an empty hallway before turning to you again.

"What's wrong? Did something happen while I was gone? Did someone-"

The concern in his eyes seemed very genuine, making you feel bad for being such a brat at the mere sight of Chan interacting with another woman. You had never had an issue with your best friend being around other women. Hell, you never even cared whenever he would occasionally ditch you for other girls. The two of you were simply best friends. You had always rooted for him in his romantic life, even encouraging him with it.

But things had drastically changed as soon as he began showing interest in you.

It was like his sudden interest had unlocked a part of you you hadn't known was there. It had given you this brand new possessiveness you had never held over Chan before; a possessiveness you didn't even feel for your current boyfriend.

And it made you feel embarrassed. Tremendously so. It also made you feel like a hypocrite. Here you had a guy who was clearly extremely into you, yet he had made no comment nor expressed any disdain over the fact that you already had a guy. Chan had never expressed any type of jealousy over any of your past relationships. Despite having liked you for the entire duration of your friendship (information you were unsure Chan was aware you knew), Chan always respected your relationships and even tried to befriend any guy you brought along. Yet you couldn't hold back your bitterness at him showing interest in someone else; interest you now felt should be reserved only for you.

The hypocritical nature of your feelings made you look down in embarrassment as you interrupted Chan's inquiries, clarifying that nothing was wrong.

"No, Chan. I'm fine, I swear. Just a little tired. I, uh, thanks for the drink."

"Hey, are you sure?", he lifted your face with a finger to your chin, making you hold eye contact with him.

It was quite insane how this was not even meant as a flirtatious move, but rather a demonstration of his platonic worry for you. Yet your heart sped up anyways.

"I'm fine, Chan! It's just the crowds. You know how I get. Nonnie told me to go look for you and there were so many people in the kitchen, and then I couldn't come up to you because of that girl and-"

Your rambles were interrupted by an exclamation mark practically manifesting itself above Chan's head, with the sudden realization of your jealousy hitting him.

"Oh?", he tilted his head and leaned in a bit closer as a grin began making its way onto his face, "'That girl'?", he repeated.

"Chan-"

He got closer to you, now cornering you against the hallway wall, still giving you space but blocking your view of anything other than him.

"I'm sorry, baby. Did that bother you? Hmm? Me talking to some other girl?"

"It's not like that! I just-"

"It's okay. You can admit it. I won't judge you," except his smirk was nothing but condescending.

"Chan! I-"

"But that's kinda funny, though. Isn't it?", he chuckled to himself.

"W-what is?," you stammered at his sudden shift in mood.

Though he was still far too close for a friend to be, and he was still leaning into your touch, his tone had shifted to one a bit more cynical in nature.

"You're jealous? Baby, you have a boyfriend."

"I do, and-"

"So what's there to be jealous about? You've got your guy. Yet you're looking my way? When you've been rejecting me all this time?", he leaned even closer, almost breathing right against your nose, eyes hooded as they bore into your own, alternating between your eyes and lips in a somewhat teasing manner.

"I-I'm not jealous. Just ... Why flirt with me if you're after other girls too?", you made the mistake of asking.

"Oh, baby. I'm not looking at anyone else. Not my fault you're so possessive you can't even stand other girls looking at me," you knew he was simply teasing you, knowing full well that you were not the possessive type. But his words carried a slight weight of truth behind them.

You had no reason to feel any type of possessiveness over Chan. Yet you still felt uneasy at the thought of Chan's eyes on anyone who wasn't you. Now that you had a taste of his attention you wanted it all to yourself.

"I just have one question," he whispered, far too close to you.

You nodded at him to continue, wide eyes on his own.

"Does he know?"

"Know what?"

"That you like me back," his eyes went down to your lips again.

"Chan. Stop. I-I'm not gonna cheat on my boyfriend," you huffed, avoiding his eyes – which was quite hard at his close proximity.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, with your eyes occasionally dropping to his lips. But it was fine, since his own were also on yours – though his expression was more triumphant than anything, while yours revealed your nerves. Had you been in a less restricting position, your thighs would've instinctively pressed together at the thoughts that were suddenly running through your mind at his proximity, but thankfully the situation didn't drag long enough for your lust to reveal itself.

He finally pulled away, smirk still on his face, "I'd never ask you to do that, baby. 's just nice to know my plan's working," he chuckled.

"What plan?"

"I'm wearing you down. You want me."

Unfortunately, you had no rebuttal, knowing that Chan had won this round. Even if you denied his statement (which you had half the mind to do), he had caught you red handed. You had whined about not having his full attention just like a petulant child would. Nothing you said would save you from that.

You managed to move on from that quite quickly, finding Soonyoung and Kwannie just a few moments later and using them as an excuse to move on from the way in which Chan had cornered you. You spent the rest of the party pondering Chan's words. Did you actually want him? Or was it just that you wanted him to want you?

Now you were stuck with embarrassing moisture between your thighs and countless doubts hanging over your head.

"C-Channie! Oh, Channie, fuck!"

Your cries of pleasure were unparalleled as the pretty boy you liked to call your best friend slurped at your cunt like a starved man.

You weren't sure how long he had been at it, nor were you sure how you'd ended up in this situation, but you had no complaints. His tongue between your thighs was pure heaven, especially with the pathetic whines the boy kept letting out at your taste.

"'sso good, princess. Cunt's so tasty ... Been wanting it since I met you ... Been waiting for you for years," he mumbled against your cunt, getting back to licking and sucking immediately.

While your heart was unsure what to make of such a heavy statement, your body responded with desperation. To have a man yearn for you like that for years was doing wonders for your cunt. It made you gush like crazy, beginning to grind against Chan's face in such a depraved way.

"Just like that, fuck. Fuck my face just like that," he groaned, the vibrations of his voice causing you to grind even harder against him.

"C-Channie! It's so good ... So fucking good, oh!"

He seemed to get off on your praise, you realized, as you felt ruckus on the bed beneath you caused by Chan canting his hips against your mattress and moaning incessantly into your cunt. The knowledge of your taste alone making Chan lose himself in such a way was enough to drive you towards your high, getting closer and closer by the second.

"Gonna make me cum, princess. Got such a pretty fucking pussy," he managed to breathe out despite exerting all his efforts into fucking the mattress.

Surprising to no one, Chan claimed your orgasm on his tongue just moments later, somehow managing to talk you through it and make the experience even more swoon-worthy than it already was. Chan had managed to make you feel a way no one had ever before, making you ache for him with just his words.

It had all ended far sooner than you would've liked, but it was fine. You knew that with a few kisses to his ear Chan would give you whatever you wanted without question.

Yet before you could even get to enjoy the entirety of your high, it was abruptly taken from you the moment your alarm began ringing, awakening you from what you hadn't realized was just slumber.

Waking up from a wet dream was already embarrassing enough on its own, but waking up from a wet dream about your best friend whom you swore you weren't into like that was a new level of low.

As much as you tried to brush it off as some sort of fluke or meaningless dream, you knew better. You had never thought of Chan in such a way, much less imagined him in that context, so it was safe to say that Chan had been right. His plan was working.

~

The following hours were spent on alert (and still incredibly horny). You thought about calling up your boyfriend to help you out, but the thought in itself felt dirty. How could you ask your boyfriend to take care of a problem caused by your best friend? There was that, and the fact that your brain would probably not be satisfied by your boyfriend right now.

You needed to get Chan out of your system.

You knew that if you called up Chan and explained your problem to him he'd come running immediately, no questions asked as he helped you relive your dream. Such a thought had your head spinning and your knees feeling weak. Except you had a moral compass that was preventing you from doing so. So, you spent the next few hours extremely sensitive and attempting to take care of yourself in any way you could think of.

Unfortunately nothing compared to your dream. Nothing felt as warm and loving as Chan had felt. There was not a single thing that could bring back that feeling of want Chan had towards you; a feeling you were so desperate for. This led you to spend the rest of the day sexually frustrated, unable to reach your high as you felt something was thoroughly missing.

Even when your boyfriend stopped by to see you after work, things had gone awry. You'd received him at the door in a desperate manner, dragging him in with you and inciting him into fucking you. You didn't care if you had Chan in mind anymore, you just needed some satisfying release. Sadly, your boyfriend did not match your energy, opting to slow you down and have his way with you in his own way. This led to yet another unsatisfying release to add to today's tally. You were unsure if you could even call it a release, as it felt entirely underwhelming and had been mostly accomplished by your own hand.

Going to sleep, still sexually frustrated, you cursed at yourself for letting Lee Chan get in your head.

Spending time with Chan after your incident was nothing less than incredibly awkward.

Despite Chan being fully unaware of what had gone down in your subconscious, you couldn't help the blush that would take over your face any time the two of you made eye contact. He had all the power at the moment.

You had also made the mistake of discussing the occurrence with your closest friends, Seungkwan and Soonyoung. Purposely, you had not mentioned the name of the culprit behind your wet dream, but it had not been hard for your nosy friends to figure it out on their own.

"You had a sex dream about Channie?!", Soonyoung had all but whispered, causing some old ladies across the diner to look your way in judgment.

Fortunately not too many people were present at the diner you were currently hanging out at, but it didn't really help the embarrassment you felt at the words even being uttered. This was the only time in which you could see your friends without Chan's presence, so you couldn't be too picky about the setting.

"Soonyoung! Shut the hell up!", you whisper-shouted at him, throwing a rolled up napkin at him in punishment, "I never said it was about Chan."

"Please. Who else would it be about? Sure as hell can't be about your vanilla boyfriend. And anyone else like Mingyu or Wonwoo would be too obvious for you to be so embarrassed about it. It has to be Chan," Seungkwan butted in nonchalantly.

"I- It's- my boyfriend is not vanilla!"

"You didn't deny it! It was Channie!", Soonyoung was far too excited at having guessed correctly.

Giving up, and knowing you needed some external input on your predicament, you nodded in shame, admitting to your sin in order to maybe get some advice on the situation.

"What do I do? I ... I can't stop thinking about it. Fuck, I can't even look at Chan in the eye anymore."

"Was it good?"

"Soonyoung, stop! That's not the point."

"He has a point. Not really worth ruining your relationship over some mediocre head," argued Seungkwan.

"Shut up! It- Fuck, it was so good," you groaned into your hands in utter embarrassment.

"Dude I knew Chan would be good at head. It's in his eyes. I'm telling you, people with those big doe eyes are freaks in bed," Soonyoung couldn't seem to stop spewing his headcanon of Chan at you.

"Or at least dream-Chan is," agreed Kwan.

"What do I do?! It won't leave my mind. I- I've already tried fucking it out of my head, but even then-"

"Hold on. You had sex with your boyfriend while thinking about Chan? Does he know?"

"Soonyoung!"

"Man, he'd pass out if he heard that. Do you know how many time's he's walked us through his sex dreams?", cackled Soonyoung.

This obviously caught your attention, making you widen your eyes and fastening the speed of your heartbeat.

Chan had had sex dreams about you too?

I mean, it should've been obvious considering the amount of dirty innuendos and straight-up proposals he's given you these past few weeks, but you had never actually thought about it in depth.

Fuck.

Chan wanted to fuck you.

The thought made you gulp and press your thighs together, actions your friends thankfully did not catch onto.

"He, uh, he's told you about his sex dreams about me?", you asked with a complete lack of confidence in your voice.

"God, don't even get him started," grumbled Seungkwan, slurping his almost empty americano before continuing, "It's Hoshi who keeps instigating him into telling us every excruciating detail."

Soonyoung nodded in confirmation, "Dude, he gets nasty," he whispers as if it was a sin to utter out loud – despite having previously aired your own sex dream to the whole diner.

God, were you interested in knowing more. But you couldn't blow your cover. You were far too horny and pent up already. Hearing about how your sexy (yes, you were at the point of shamelessly admitting it) best friend giving it to you in the nastiest scenarios imaginable would probably make you combust in front of your best friends and every other unsuspecting person in the establishment.

With dry lips and wetness already gathering between your thighs, you simply hummed in acknowledgment and moved on with the conversation, eventually managing to change subjects without giving away your cover.

~

Never in your life had you ever had such urgency in getting home.

Upon locking your front door, you immediately ran to your bed, undressing yourself in the process and getting ready to rid yourself of the ache between your legs that had been bothering you since that wretched dream.

You knew that you wouldn't be able to satisfy yourself as well as you wanted without Chan's aid (you'd tried endless times just a few days ago), but trying was better than nothing.

Getting yourself started was easy. All you had to do was remember the very vivid image of dream-Chan slobbering between your legs, begging you to use his face however you saw fit and claim your orgasm as if it were a god-given right.

But imagination wasn't enough.

You had half the mind to call up Chan right there and then and crying to him to please come and take care of you. The repeated knowledge that Chan would likely come to you with no question nor judgement made the task of holding back even harder. It made you cry at the frustration your fingers were giving you; they just weren't enough. Not even after the endless attempts these past few days had you been able to calm the fire between your legs. The last time you saw your boyfriend – just after your damned sex dream – had been yet another failed attempt. It seemed like nothing could truly get you there.

That's when you thought of the perfect thing.

Chan always had the tendency of either taking you home himself or sending you a short voice message to ensure you had arrived home safely – always insisting on one in return. This message always contained Chan's raspy voice after a long day of shenanigans, usually calling you one pet name or another as he checked in on you.

No matter how ashamed you felt at it, the burning between your legs did seem to diminish upon turning up the short voice message he had left you just last week. His words, accompanied by his voice, did wonders for your imagination.

"Hey, babe", it had started, "Just wanted to check in on you and make sure you got home okay. Need you to send me a message back as soon as you can, yeah?"

This had been enough to start you up again, the usual 'babe' nickname and the soft command causing an effect on you it never had in all your years of friendship.

"You looked so pretty today," he sighed, "Did I tell you that? Need to be telling you that every day. You're gorgeous. Don't even know how such a pretty girl puts up with us," he chuckled.

Oh, Channie ...

He'd always been so sweet to you. Such a fun friend, but also such a sweet boy who'd always coddle you and treat you better than anyone else. You could almost picture him swooning at you as he reminisced on the pretty dress you'd worn that day.

You couldn't think of anyone else who thought of you that fondly. Yet you were currently too busy using an unsuspecting Chan to get off after days of being pent up due to that same boy.

"Miss you already, gorgeous. Should've taken you home myself, ugh," he groaned at himself, "That way I would've at least gotten a goodnight kiss," he paused, chuckling, "on the cheek, of course."

It was probably just your horny brain talking, but had Chan been in front of you at that moment, you would've done far more than just kiss him. You didn't know where all this sudden lust for Chan had come from, but that dream had come with an epiphany. Maybe you'd been attracted to your best friend all this time.

"'Kay, Imma leave you now, okay, princess? Message me back when you're ready for bed, alright? You know how I worry. Goodnight, beautiful. I love you," he ended the recording with a soft kiss.

The short voice message wasn't enough to work yourself up to an orgasm, so you revisited as many of his old messages as you could, recalling some specially soft ones he'd send you where he'd call you all the petnames known to man and praise you enough to make you blush.

You also thought about what Soonyoung had said, how Chan's dreams about you would get nasty. You thought of every nasty thing the man was probably itching to do to you. You thought of how easily you'd let him if he was here at this moment.

Throughout it all, you pictured Chan and the actions that would accompany his words if he were in the room with you. You imagined the soft touches and the praise he'd spew endlessly at you. The eyes full of genuine love – mixed with a little lust – that would watch you as you came undone.

And come undone you did. It wasn't as good as it would've been with the real Chan present and taking care of you, but it sure beat the multiple unsatisfying orgasms you'd had in the past few days.

"We broke up."

Those were your opening words upon approaching the usual table you shared with your friends.

This time Seokmin had decided to join.

"You what?"

"Because of Chan?"

"Really?!"

All responses were delivered simultaneously, making you groan as you sat down, knowing you were in for a lengthy interrogation from the three nosiest men you knew.

You covered your face in your hands and exhaled before unmasking yourself and facing your friends with seriousness in your demeanor.

"Didn't feel right when I kept thinking about Chan," you started, "He understood, which made it worse. Said he'd been too busy with work lately, was thinking of taking some time apart anyways."

It had been a few days since your wet dream about Chan. After your lonely escapade the night after – the night with the cursed voice memos – you had gone over to your boyfriend's place to end it. You hadn't hung out much in the past few weeks. There had been no spark for a bit. The goodness of your short-lived relationship was probably just the honeymoon period, which ended around the same time Chan decided to make his interest on you known.

It was all too much to deal with, so breaking it off seemed easier.

"Wow," aired Soonyoung.

"Yeah. Wow. How are you feeling?", asked Seokmin.

"I'm fine. Just, you know, feel kinda bad. I didn't want to be with someone if my heart wasn't fully in it," you mumbled, a little solemn.

"Does Channie know?"

"God, no. I've been avoiding him since," you eyed Kwan and Soonyoung, "uh, you know," you didn't want Seokmin to be yet another one of your friends to know about your sexual escapades in your slumber.

"Oh, you mean the sex dream?"

Your stare turned menacing, facing the only two possible culprits, "Who told him?"

"It was Soonie!", Seungkwan revealed immediately.

"Wait! No, I-"

"Did you tell anyone else? Oh my god, does Chan know?!"

"No! I only told Seokmin, I swear! He asked why we were meeting while Chan's working, so I told him."

"Don't worry, I won't tell. Scout's honor."

Seokmin held an innocent pinky towards you. Already done with the situation, you halfheartedly intertwined pinkies and moved on.

"So ... Channie?", Seungkwan asked once more.

"What about him?", you feigned curiosity.

"Playing dumb isn't gonna help things."

"What, do you want me to tell him about my dream?"

"That'd be kinda weird, man, I don't know," added Seokmin.

"I think it'd be hot."

"Soonyoung, shut up!", you told him for the nth time since the subject of your 'crush' on Chan had first come up.

Seungkwan side-eyed them before continuing, "No, but you like him, don't you?"

Did you? Did you actually like Chan?

Before Chan had showed interest in you, you had never considered it. Ever since you'd met him, Chan had always been nothing more than your best friend, your partner in crime. You had never felt as safe and comfortable with anyone as you had with Chan, and that was still the case. No boyfriend had ever made you feel as at ease as Chan always did.

His crush had brought out something in you. Had it been any other friend who suddenly revealed their feelings for you, you would've reacted in horror. But it was different with Chan. For some reason, you didn't feel put off by it, nor did you try to chase him away for his feelings for you. It wasn't one of those situations where the boy suddenly decides to pursue his girl-friend and ruins the friendship altogether. This had opened pandora's box for you, making you realize that Chan's affections would've always been welcomed by you.

Even if you jokingly rejected him or told your friends you had a boyfriend, it was all simply due to your moral compass. You weren't a cheater, so you couldn't take Chan too seriously even if you wanted to. But now you were single, and now you had to figure out if you really wanted Chan in the same way he wanted you.

"I know that I want him, but I need to make sure that I want him, you know? I'd never want to hurt his feelings or jeopardize our friendship just because I was horny one day."

"So you're scared it might just be that you're sexually attracted to him?"

"No, it's just ..."

"You want to know whether or not you like him and not just the attention he gives you."

It was surprisingly Soonyoung who had deciphered it.

"Y-yeah. Fuck. Does that make me a narcissist?"

"Nah. It's better to be sure. You've been friends with Channie since forever. It makes sense for you to wanna be cautious."

"You should probably stop avoiding him, though. He's, uh, starting to notice," revealed Seokmin.

"Yeah, he won't stop whining. Just put him out of his misery already," said Soonie.

"Okay, I guess I'll talk to him next time I see him."

You didn't really feel ready for it, but the time to confront Chan would have to come sooner or later.

Next time you saw Chan was actually far too soon for your liking. Just the following day you found yourself at yet another house party; a small gathering among your friend group and some other people. It wasn't anything too big, so you knew that you'd inevitably bump into Chan.

It had only been about a week since you last spoke to Chan, but that had been a week too long. Throughout the duration of your friendship, the longest you ever went without constant communication had been three days, which had been a total accident on both your parts. The two of you would at least text once a day, even coming to have an unbroken streak of endless texts.

Fuck, you missed him.

Chan obviously must've noticed your lack of communication these past few days. You weren't even sure why you had decided to keep him in the dark. It wasn't just the wet dream (which was still haunting you, but had moved to the back burner for now), and it wasn't your breakup either. You were just confused about your feelings for the boy, but punishing him by icing him out had been far too much. Now you felt guilty.

You felt extra guilty when you finally spotted Chan across the party, sitting alone on a loveseat while he attempted but failed at discreetly looking over at you. He looked like a wounded puppy as he did so, pout on his lips and furrowed brows. It made you want to kiss the pout right off his face.

It was easy to tell that he wanted to approach you, but was simply trying his hardest to respect the boundary you had seemingly put up out of nowhere. This meant that you'd have to be the one to talk to him.

Then you took action, throwing away the drink you had been nursing and walking over to him, ignoring his shocked expression when you wordlessly grabbed his hand and pulled him to an empty room in the shared house. You locked the door and turned to him, unsure on what to say first.

Chan was the now the one to surprise you, immediately trapping you in a bear hug and burying his face in your shoulder, loudly breathing you in.

He didn't let go for a couple of minutes, even nudging you to keep hugging him back when you went to pull away.

When he finally let go, you finally had the chance to look at the boy for a moment.

Yeah, you liked him.

You had missed him far too much to be able to deny it.

You liked Lee Chan, and you were ready to let it be known to the world.

But then he started speaking.

"I'm so sorry," he started, utterly confusing you as to what he could be apologizing for, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I, fuck. I must've crossed a line with my flirting, and I never meant to. You're my best friend, and I need to respect you, an-and I need to respect your relationship. I thought that maybe somehow I could get you to see me as more than a friend, but it was stupid of me to assume you'd drop your boyfriend just because your dumb friend suddenly had a crush on you – which, uh, isn't the case, by the way," he looked down, embarrassed, "I've liked you since we met. So much. I assumed Hoshi must've told you by now. Anyways, I, uh, I'm really sorry. I'll stop. I will never bring it up again, just, fuck, please don't be mad. I'll take anything you give me. If friendship is what you want then I'll be the bestest friend you've ever had, just-"

It was impossible to take his senseless rambles anymore. You were getting too emotional at the thought of having put Chan through this turmoil when you had spent the last few days tending to the ache he had caused between your legs and subsequently breaking up with your boyfriend in order to figure out your feelings. It made you feel equally embarrassed and ridiculous, yet the effects of your silence made you begin to tear up at the apologetic boy in front of you.

Interrupting him, you hugged him again, somehow even tighter this time. This thankfully shut him up, allowing his body to lose its tension and letting himself become limp in your hold.

After some more moments of silent hugging, you were the one to pull away this time, giving him a sympathetic smile as you raised a hand to caress his cheek. It made you soon the way in which he leaned against your palm and gave you the sweetest smile known to man.

"Channie, you did nothing wrong ... I'm sorry for cutting you off like that, that was so wrong of me. I should've talked to you and told you how I was feeling. I wish I was half as confident about my feelings as you are, but I just felt so-" you paused, not knowing what you were even trying to express, "a-and then I just started avoiding you to avoid my feelings all together. I'm sorry."

"No, you have nothing to apologize for," he put his hands on your shoulders to ensure you were understanding his point, "I should've respected your boundaries. I never even should've tried to pursue you when I know you have a boyfriend, it was so-"

"had", you clarified, shy.

"what?"

"I had a boyfriend. We, uh, we broke up a few days ago."

"You ... Fuck, was it because of me?"

His eyes were like saucers, but you could see a small hint of a smile that he quickly wiped off when he realized the context of the situation.

"I want to say no, but ... yeah, I did."

Still feeling unbelievably ashamed at the memory of what had first led you to consider breaking up with your boyfriend, – a stupid wet dream you still couldn't get out of your mind – you avoided eye contact. Now you knew that that had only been the catalyst of realizing your feelings for Chan, but it still didn't help matters much, specially knowing that Chan would find out sooner or later.

"God, I'm so so sorry-"

"Chan! Stop apologizing! It wasn't because of anything you did. I just ... I realized some things these past few weeks and .. I realized we weren't really right for each other," you took a breath, "Not when you were all I could think about."

"Y-you ...?"

"I'm going to be candid, okay? Just, please don't interrupt."

He nodded, giving you the green light.

"A little over a week ago, uh, something happened. And then I couldn't keep you out of my mind. I tried talking to the guys, I even tried using my boyfriend as a distraction, but nothing worked. I started avoiding you because I just felt so awkward realizing I was beginning to develop feelings for you. It was wrong of me, but I needed time. I broke up with him because it didn't feel right to be with someone else while you were the only person I wanted around."

Saying it felt like a breath of fresh air. Not only were you admitting it to Chan, but also to yourself. Your friendship with Chan had never been your average friendship. Even before he had decided to begin shamelessly hitting on you, he had always been the sweetest and most caring boy you'd ever met. Sending you voice memos every time you went home alone, always being in charge of getting your drinks, driving you wherever you wanted, being overly affectionate with you any time he felt you might've needed it. The boy had always been the perfect match for you, you just couldn't grasp it until he began to literally shove it in your face.

"What made you realize it?"

Not expecting him to question you, but rather just accept your sudden change of heart, you hadn't thought of how to explain to him that a sex dream was what had brought you to this epiphany.

But what did you have to lose at this point? Most of your friends already knew, and to be quite frank, you still wanted Chan extremely badly. Telling him wouldn't be the end of the world.

"I, uh, I had a dream about you ..." you muttered, eyes avoiding his own.

His already wide eyes widened even more, a smirk forming itself on his features as he tilted his head in question.

"Uhm, care to repeat that for me?"

"Chan, shut the fuck up. You heard me."

"I didn't! Just tell me. Please?"

With a sigh, you repeated yourself, this time a little more clear, "I had a dream about you."

"Uh-huh. What type of dream?"

"Chan!"

"Princess, please. I embarrassed myself for you for weeks. I pined for you for years. Just give me what I wanna hear," he pleaded, somehow cocky in the way he did so.

"Fuck, fine. I had a wet dream about you. I dreamt about you between my legs, giving me the greatest orgasm I've ever experienced and begging me for more. I dreamt of your pathetic whines while I ground my cunt on your face. And then I woke up before I could cum. I spent the entire day trying to get that feeling back but nothing worked, Chan, nothing. I couldn't look you in the eyes after that so I just avoided you."

Finally giving him the most candid version of the events made you feel a weight leave your shoulders, specially upon realizing that the boy who currently held your heart had been rendered unable to use this as ammunition against you as you watched his cocky expression turn into one of lust.

"Oh," he breathed out. Taking a few moments to regain his composure, he spoke up again, "W-was that it? Or do you, uh, do you also like me back?"

"I like you, Chan. So much. The dream was just what made me realize that I wanted you in every way imaginable."

A decisive expression now took over his face, nodding to himself before moving closer to you, taking up all your personal space.

"That's all I needed to know," he declared before claiming your lips in a heated kiss.

Chan kissed you with everything he had to give. The kiss immediately grew lustful, with Chan licking into your mouth for access the second you made the smallest sound of surprise. And, fuck was Chan a great kisser.

His tongue was practically making love to yours, rendering your legs weak and shaky. Thankfully Chan realized this, pushing you to the nearest wall so that he could continue to take over all your senses.

Scratching and pulling at his hair, you caused Chan to moan against your lips, only making you whine in return. Chan took this as a sign to move forward, beginning to grind his expert hips against your own. Already hard, Chan's clothed cock felt like heaven against your burning cunt. You had begged for a proper release for days, and you were now afraid that some light dry humping would be enough to take you there before you could finally relive your dream.

But did you care? Did you care enough to halt Chan's movements when they were already making your eyes roll back? Your body made the decision for you, pushing your hips against his own and making him release a gruttal groan against your lips.

"N-need you so fucking bad ..." he breathed against your lips, barely able to get a word out as you insisted of licking into his mouth as he spoke. This made him groan again, "Princess, please ... You're gonna kill me."

Pulling away, you grabbed his hands and placed them on your breasts, making eyed at him as you spoke, "Channie, just touch me. Don't care what you do, just ... just take care of the problem you caused."

He whined at the feeling of your body at his palms, immediately groping and feeling up every inch of your body before trapping your mouth in another heated kiss. His hands soon became too desperate to feel you through your clothes, carelessly unwrapping you from every piece of clothing he could. He left you in your underwear, having thrown off your dress and holding onto your hands so you could haphazardly kick off your shoes. Chan's clothes joined soon after, with his own hands throwing off all but his boxers.

Before he could claim your lips in a kiss again, you grabbed him by the hand, leading him to a nearby couch in order to sit him down. Sitting on his lap, you kissed him again and again, thoroughly enjoying how liberal his hands were in the way he touched you.

Finally throwing off your bra, you felt up your tits a bit as Chan watched you with a pained look in his face, mouth open and eyes glued to your breasts. His lips attached to your tits immediately after, going crazy in the way he suckled and bit at them.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," he mumbled against your tit, "Fuck, dreamt about you every night ... This pretty body and all your pretty noises. Can't believe I get to have you now," he kissed his way back up to your neck, hands never halting in their caressing of your body.

He pulled away to look into your eyes – though his eyes kept dropping to your lips, "You're embarrassed about your dream?", he chuckled, "Want me to tell you some of mine? Hmm?", he began to manhandle you, positioning you so that you could lay horizontally on the couch and he could lay above you, "So fucking nasty, baby, it'd make you blush."

"Channie ..."

"Gonna do so many nasty things to you. Want me to whine for your pussy? Oh, baby ... Gonna beg for pussy every day, shit," his hand went down to rub your wet cunt through your panties, "'sso wet," he groaned, "Gonna lick it all up again and again. Need to suffocate between these thighs," he made his way down your body as he said this, eventually coming face to face with your cunt.

Leaving a kiss on your weeping cunt, he licked through your panties, causing you to arch your back for him and throw your head back. The warmth of his tongue could've been enough to claim your orgasm, but somehow you persisted.

Chan became desperate for you quickly after that, removing your panties and lifting your thighs so that he could finally bury himself between your legs the way you'd been wanting him to for so long.

"Channie, fuck!," you cried, pulling at his hair while pushing his head further against you.

"Use me. God, just ... Grind that cunt against me ..."

And so you did. You took advantage of your pretty best friend's desperation for you and employed your own desperation for him. To any outsider, you must've looked like the image of depravity as you used Chan for your pleasure, but Chan was just as depraved. You could feel the couch shake from under you, indicating the way in which Chan ground against it as you claimed your orgasm on his tongue.

Riding your high was an incomparable experience. No one had ever made you feel as much pleasure as Chan had. Not even dream-Chan lived up to reality.

You could've sworn you lost consciousness for a few moments after your high, feeling completely weightless when it had finally died down. Your ability to think only came back by the time Chan had climbed back up your body and kissed at your chest once more, smiling at you when he finally reached your lips.

Instead of sharing a sweet moment with him, you claimed his lips once more and licked every last bit of your essence from his mouth. He groaned and allowed his tongue to mingle with yours in such a nasty manner that it made you blush when you remembered that Chan was nothing more than your best friend less than an hour ago.

"Let me fuck you," Chan pleaded when he finally managed to pull away from your greedy lips.

"How do you want me?", you asked as your lips tried to reclaim his yet again. Fuck, he was such a good kisser.

"Fuck. I get to choose?"

You couldn't help but be endeared by him. Also incredibly turned on by how much he clearly wanted you.

Without another word, he repositioned you so you'd be on your hands and knees, running his hand down your back to press the arch of your back a little deeper. He groaned at the sight of you arching your back as deliciously as you could, wiggling your ass as you looked back at him with a cheeky smile, lip trapped between your teeth.

"I've been waiting for this for years, shit. I'm not gonna last."

That made you giggle, continuing to press yourself up against him to get him to break.

"Just fuck me, Channie. Promise it's gonna feel so good."

"Yeah, baby. Gonna fuck you so good."

His tip then finally made contact with your cunt, being dragged up and down your folds as you whined at the feeling. He finally began to penetrate you after becoming too desperate himself.

"You're so fucking warm ..." he breathed out.

Sighing out at the fullness, you pushed back against him, encouraging him to begin fucking into you. Chan took no time in following your lead, adopting a desperate pace almost immediately.

The sounds of skin slapping took over the room, only accompanied by sighs and moans of pleasure from you or Chan. The occasional whiny praise also left his lips every so often. The needy way in which he fucked you had you reeling. Chan had the ability to make you feel extremely desired and like getting to fuck you was the greatest privilege known to man. The way his hands caressed you and his pleas for you to 'please push it back on him' made the experience all the more dreamy to you.

Dream-Chan truly stood no chance to the real one.

"Princess, gonna- fuck, gonna fucking cum. W-where can I?", he grunted from behind, his thrusts somehow becoming even more animalistic.

There was no moment of hesitation in your voice – though shaky from the way in which Chan rutted against you – when you gave him the green light to cum inside you. His groan upon your confirmation only made your back arch even more. Chan's want for you continued to make you feel lightheaded.

Halfway through his own orgasm, Chan triggered your own through the way his hand dipped under you and toyed with your clit. After only one day with you, your best friend already knew how to get you there immediately. He talked you through your orgasm, giving you endless praise about how beautiful you were, how he didn't deserve such a pretty bestie to fuck so good, how he'd beg for you day after day if necessary.

Upon your highs wearing down, Chan managed to reposition you so you could lay next to him. (though almost entirely on top of him) He held you close to him, soft in the way he ran his fingers up and down the length of your arm, enjoying the goosebumps forming. His hand would eventually go over to your face and caress your cheek while his nose rubbed against your own. Treating you like a doll, Chan made you swoon yet again.

"I love you."

Then the world stopped.

"I'm sorry I didn't say it before. It wasn't just a crush. I'm in love with you. And ... and I want you to be mine. Will you be my girlfriend?"

It was all whispered against you, with a soft smile accompanying the whispered words.

"I love you too," the words left your mouth so naturally you were sure they'd been stuck there forever, "Yes, Channie. I'll be your girlfriend," you couldn't help but smile as you said those words.

"Fuck, thank God," he breathed out, hugging you to him, "I never would've gotten over you if you said no. The guys never would've heard the end of it."

He made you laugh, as per usual.

You knew things would only change for the better, so you weren't scared about the change in dynamic that was to come from letting Chan out of the friendzone. All you felt was excitement to finally be with him without guilt.

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content: established relationship, chan's pov, banter, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of lingerie, teasing, dry humping, riding, etc.

wc: 695 (teaser); 1773 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

Chan had waited for this moment for years. The moment he finally had you all to himself and the moment that would start the rest of his life with you.

Sleeping with you last night had somehow surpassed his craziest of dreams – and he had dreamt about it a lot.

The feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips, the way you moaned against his mouth as his tongue suckled on yours, the sight of your bare body, the feeling of your hands caressing every inch of his body, the taste of your wet cunt ... fuck. He could go on forever reminiscing about you and how obsessed with your touch he had already become.

It had only been a bit over a day since he had woken up next to you on that couch. Granted, the sleep had been slightly uncomfortable, but he had gotten to feel your warm skin against his own as he slept, so it had been worth it.

After some sheepish reaffirmation of your feelings for one another, you had redressed and left the shared house, pinkies intertwined as you went home. Sadly, you had busy days, so you weren't able to see one another at all throughout the following 24 hours. But! You had agreed to see each other tonight for a quiet dinner at Chan's apartment – courtesy of Mingyu's cooking.

Opening the door to his apartment, Chan's chin practically hit the floor when he spotted you in that dress.

Chan had seen you in all types of getups throughout all his years of knowing you. He had obviously seen you in the prettiest of dresses, the tightest and most sinfully tailored pieces. But nothing compared to the pretty little thing you were currently donning.

It was a black slip dress. It wasn't too tight nor too loose. The fabric barely covered his favorite parts of your body, making him reminisce on how they looked without anything covering them at all. You were also shamelessly donning the few hickeys he had left on you just one day ago. Chan was convinced you'd been sent on this Earth to ruin him, to make him a shell of himself and rid him of any ability to act as a functional human being.

The dinner went quite well. You and Chan were far too used to each other for it to go anything but perfect. Your usual banter was present, though Chan now had the privilege of running his hand up and down any sliver of skin he could reach as you teased him about one thing or another. He enjoyed the innocent touches he could give you without any sense of guilt you might be taken by some loser who didn't deserve you. The right to touch you was now entirely reserved by him, just as it should've always been.

It was all perfectly innocent until it wasn't.

Eventually moving to the couch to entertain yourselves with some streaming service, you cuddled against each other. This was an ordinary occurrence between you even as friends. Sure, the cuddling was now a little extra close – with you practically sitting on his lap – but it wasn't anything too intimate so far.

It seemed like this wasn't enough for you, though. It didn't take you too long to move onto his lap, now sitting on top of him while his arms wrapped around your middle. Chan chose to just follow along with whatever position you wanted to cuddle in, just happy to be there at all. Your hands would play with his own, clearly not attentive to the movie at all.

Innocently at first, you rubbed your own hands up and down his arms. This later came to you leading his hands to rub up and down the expanse of your thighs, coming up high enough to lift up most of your skirt. This then evolved into you dipping one of his hands to rub against your panties.

Chan's eyes rolled back when he felt the warmth of your cunt under his hand, already moist and ready for him. You kept pressing his hand against you, so Chan took the hint to play with you.

...

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[queenshelby]

Pool Party (One Shot)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: SMUT with a lack of plot, huge age gap

Words: 3,656

Notes: In this fic, Ruby is 19 years old. Tommy is in his mid-forties and married to Lizzie which, of course, does not prevent him from having some fun here and there.

It was a sunny afternoon and, just like most weekends these days, you spent the day with your best friend Ruby Shelby.

Unlike you, Ruby was rather wealthy after becoming involved in her father’s company, Shelby Company Limited, and, even though she was working only on the legitimate side of the business, everyone in the Birmingham area knew that Shelby Company Limited had, in the past, been funded through drug money and pay-offs.

In the past, these pay offs and drug deals were facilitated by the Peaky Blinders, a gang involved in organised crime and run by no other than Thomas Shelby, being Ruby’s father himself.

He was a bad man and even though you knew about his criminal past, you somehow felt attracted to him. He was handsome and rather intimidating which was something that, in itself, turned you on quite a lot.

He was the kind of man you knew you could never have and, of course, being attracted to your friend’s father was somewhat taboo and forbidden, making it even more interesting for you.

You knew that you wanted to have him, just that once. You wanted him to take you and make you his and it was this very same Sunday afternoon that you took a shot at this very famous Birmingham gangster when making your way into his office unannounced.

His wife Elizabeth was around and so were most of the maids, which meant that you had to be quiet.

Ruby was busy by the pool with some other friends and you excused yourself, pretending that you needed a rest.

Ten minutes later…

When you walked into Tommy’s office a few minutes after leaving the pool, you were surprised to find it empty. The door had been unlocked but there was no sight of the man you had hoped to see.

He had disappeared and, after taking a quick look at the golden clock sticking out from above the door, you decided to wait.

You waited for ten minutes at least until, suddenly, you were startled by a bang.

The door opened and then shut again loudly, causing you to jump and turn around.

“Mr Shelby” you gasped but he did not appear to be amused.

“Can I help you or have you found what you were looking for?” was what he asked, thinking that you were spying on him or looking for something that could hurt him and his family.

“Uhm, I have actually” you stammered before approaching him slowly but he still seemed to be on guard.

“And what may that be, eh?” he asked before reaching for your wrist, trying to see what you were holding on to.

“You” you responded quickly while opening your hand, revealing the red velvet lipstick you had taken from Ruby’s room and put on for him.

“Me?” your friend’s father then asked while the lipstick dropped to the floor. “And what do you want from me?” Tommy then went on to ask while letting go of your wrist.

“Just you” you stammered again and, even though you were wearing a shiny silk bikini that was clearly gaining his attention by now, you did not feel confident enough to tell him that, ideally, you wanted him to bend you over his desk and fuck you. He was just too intimidating for you to say such a thing.

“You need to be a bit more specific Love” Tommy chuckled, causing you to nod nervously while still avoiding the question.

“What is it that you want me to do for you?” he then asked again, this time more impatiently than before and it was obvious to you that, by this point, he was getting rather frustrated with the lack response you gave him.

“I…uhm…” you thus stammered before, suddenly, blurting it out. “I want you to fuck me, Mr Shelby” you told him while turning rather red in the face and blushing heavily with embarrassment.

“You want me to fuck you?” Tommy asked after his chin had dropped and, whilst you being in his office in a bathing suit should have been an obvious indication for him, the fact that you were his daughter’s friend alleviated that assumption.

“Yes” you confirmed and, just as you did, a thousand thoughts went through Tommy’s mind, most of which were logical reasons as to why he should not be engaging in sex with you. And yet, the more he looked at you in this silken bikini, the more those logical thoughts took a back seat to the desire rising within him.

“How old are you?” he nonetheless ought to clarify and your reaction to his question surprised you.

“Old enough” you told him firmly, causing him to cock an eyebrow.

“Twenty” you then told him, seeing that, again, he was getting a little frustrated while yet, unbeknownst to you, his cock was rock-hard and throbbing, begging for release.

“Twenty, eh?” Tommy smirked before turning around and, just when you thought that he would leave you standing there like a fool, right in the middle of his office, wearing nothing but your bathers, he locked the door.

“What are you doing?” you asked, smiling and Tommy smirked again, this time more sarcastically than before.

“Locking the door” he responded bluntly but with a half-smile on his face.

“Why?” you queried again nervously while Tommy finally approached you.

“Because we don’t want my wife or daughter to walk in on us while we fuck, do we?” Tommy responded before cornered you and traced one of his hands across your cheek.

“No, we do not” you confirmed with a gasp in your voice as his fingers moved back along your cheekbone, and tangled sharply into your hair.

You hissed air through your teeth, as the pain prickled your scalp and your chest lifted toward his body, presenting itself submissively under his grasp.

Tommy then guided you closer towards his desk and his firm grasp on your hair directed you up on to your toes, where he then pulled you even closer, and kissed you firmly. His tongue parted your lips, and took your mouth captive. The mixture of surrender and desire swirling through your body gave the kiss an intoxicating effect, and you had to place your hands against his chest to balance.

His grasp on your hair released, and he stroked the place he had previously held, as your kiss broke free.

“This needs to stay between us Love. Understood?” Tommy then said and you nodded eagerly while Tommy guided his thumb over your chin seductively before taking off his cufflinks and rolling up his sleeves, leaving his arms exposed.

“I understand Mr Shelby. Now tell, what do you want me to do for you? I am yours” you said while watching him and, again, he smirked.

“I want you to get onto your knees. Can you do that for me, Love?” he teased and, of course, you nodded again and complied with his request.

“Yes Mr Shelby” you then confirmed while starring at his manhood pushing firmly against the fabric of his pants.

‘Very good�� Tommy cooed. “Now take out my cock and let me watch those velvety lips wrap around it” Tommy then said with a deep growl which was reverberating through your needy body and making your belly flutter hotly. He was so sure of himself and this aroused you even more.

‘It would be my pleasure” you told him as you reached for his crotch with shaking hands before unclasping his belt and undoing the zipper of his black pants nervously.

‘Common Love, we don’t have all day, eh” he then chuckled, seeing how nervous you were and, with that, you finally managed to undo what needed to be undone and pushed down his pants and briefs in one go.

At his height, his cock hovered just above your waiting lips and your eyes traced longingly over the veins coiling down his thick shaft to the neat tuft of dark hair around the base.

Your hand went immediately to Tommy’s length, stroking it gently and, just after a groan escaped his lips, he again gave you the hurry up.

‘Open your mouth Love and show me your tongue’ he said and you nervously complied with his request.

"Yes Mr Shelby" you gasped again, your voice a breathless whine.

“Good, now run it over my cock and then wrap your lips around it” Tommy instructed and you bucked up on your knees, getting into position with your parted lips hovering just above his waiting cock. Your eyes stayed low, fixed on his crotch and, just as you starred into his pelvis, you gently licked his head, tasting the salty precum that had already pooled in his slit.

You then wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, the musky smell of his manhood filling your nostrils and sending heat flooding through your heaving chest.

Tommy groaned as soon as your lips made contact with his throbbing shaft but then you made your first mistake. You reached up with one trembling hand to hold his cock by the base, meaning to steady his shaft as you worked your lips deeper. Your tentative fingers wrapped around him, feeling the delightful stiffness in your submissive grasp, the throbbing heat of him, pulsing with desire for your warm lips and soft tongue.

You then started to lean forward, meaning to take more of his length inside your mouth, but Tommy stopped you.

"No Love. Do it properly, eh. Keep those hands behind your back and just use your mouth" Tommy snapped and your disobedient hand was flying behind you to clasp the other there in the small of your back, clasping your wrists firmly.

“Good. Now open up wide and take my cock into your throat” Tommy instructed before you resumed to use your mouth to hold his cock without using your hands, cradling the head between your soft lips. Craning up, you started to slide yourself down, taking a little more of him each time. His stiff cock pressed down on your waiting tongue, stretching your lips wider as you worked your way deeper.

“You are doing well” Tommy said as your pussy ached with desire at the taste of his skin, the warmth and hardness of him filling your mind and drowning you in the sensation of his manly organ pressed inside your waiting mouth.

"Use your tongue" he then growled and you shivered before curling your tongue up, letting the soft muscle tease around the tip of his cock, just gently brushing over what you know is achingly sensitive skin where the spongy head meets the shaft. Your reward moments later was a low groan of pleasure in Tommy’s deep voice.

“This feels good. Keep going” Tommy told you as his muscled legs tensed on either side of you. Your tongue darted back around, flickering over the small, stretched sliver of skin where his foreskin met the head of his erection. He groaned again, and you could feel the pulsing throb of his shaft against your lips as his cock responded to your attention. Your skin tingled with longing anticipation, knowing you are managing to please him.

"Now take me deeper” Tommy then demanded and, before you had time to think, he took hold of the back of your head and forced you down his cock. You whimpered as he made you lean forward, your stretched lips sliding almost halfway down his length before he allowed you to draw back, then repeating again. The third time, you pressed your lips deeper, taking almost his entire length until you felt the hard tip of his cock pressing painfully against the entrance to your throat. A small discomfort, easily ignored in your need to obey.

“Good girl. Fuck. Keep going” Tommy purred as you held him there for a few moments, feeling a slight ache in your chest as your lungs protested. Then, finally he let go of you and you leaned up again, leaving his pulsing shaft glistening with saliva as your stretched lips glid back along his length until only the head rested against your fluttering tongue.

“You look absolutely delightful like this Sweetheart” Tommy smirked as you snatched a breath through your nose, the scent of him filling the very air you breathe. Then, it began again and he forced you to lean forward and his cock pressed inside your mouth once more.

Quickly enough, you relaxed into the rhythm of what Tommy made you do and you let your body and your need to please take over. The slow count from one to three settled into an easy habit, and you found yourself considering just how you felt right now. But you considered Tommy’s responses too, the way his breath hitched when you licked at that one particular spot near the head of his cock, the tenseness in his legs when you took his shaft deeper that told you just how much he enjoyed every moment.

"I am close” Tommy then murmured, his voice echoing your unspoken thoughts. "Look at me" he ordered and you paused at that, your tongue still delicately resting on the tip of Tommy’s erection.

You complied with his orders and a pair of blue eyes starred back at you, dulled with hooded pleasure as your tongue continued playing over the tip of his cock. You sucked on his shaft and he moaned again, his lips trembling. Your heart soared at the obvious pleasure on his handsome face, knowing that you were the cause of all of it.

"Good Girl. Keep going and make me cum in your mouth” Tommy went on to say while his warm hand landed on your head and he guided your movements once more. With a harsh grip on your hair, he made you lean forward and you almost choked on his shaft as the thick head of his cock slammed into the entrance to your throat. Your tongue moved like a serpent, writhing in your mouth, and sliding across every inch of his skin that you could reach, while your lips wrap around his shaft as you sucked lushly, the wet, sloppy sounds of your eager blowjob filling the room.

Tommy then groaned again and you could feel his cock swell in your mouth and his balls tightening against your chin. His breath caught, and just like that, you felt his hot cum spattering across your throat. His hips jerked back as he orgasmed, some of his bitter sweet seed spraying over your tongue instead, filling your mouth with the taste of his semen. His cock popped free of your lips, the last few pearly drops spattering across your lips and chin. You kneeled there, frozen in place, your eyes still fixed on his face as he gasped and panted for breath. Your own pussy ached and throbbed with needy heat, but the distraction of your own fierce arousal was easily ignored...for now at least.

"Hold it in your mouth” Tommy then said and you held as much of his thick load as you could in your mouth, the taste and smell of his cum filling your senses. "Now look up at me..." he ordered and you complied with his request while your cheeks puffed out to keep as much of the cum inside as you could until he said the unthinkable. "Now swallow it, every drop” he told you and after nodding reluctantly, your throat tensed as you gulp down the load, the slick cum sliding easily down into your waiting belly. The taste of it still lingered on your tongue, and you could feel the heat of it.

“Was this to your satisfaction Mr Shelby?” you then asked with a needy look on your face.

“It was” Tommy confirmed before pulling you to your feet.

“You did well Love” he then said before pressing his lips on to yours in a haste, seemingly unbothered by the fact that he had just cum in your mouth and, just as you were expected you gave into the kiss.

Just as Tommy was kissing you, his hand came in between your thighs and he ran his fingers through your wetness.

“You are so fucking wet for me, eh” Tommy said with great satisfaction after he pulled his mouth away from your lips and placed his fingers onto them, making you taste your own wetness.

“Of course I am Mr Shelby” you told him and, again Tommy smirked.

“Good” he told you before giving you some further instructions. “Now come over here and lean over my desk. I want to fuck you from behind and, when I do, I expect you not to make a sound. Is that understood?” Tommy then said and, of course, you nodded once more and complied with his request.

You leaned across his large cedar desk and looked back at him expectantly and, just as you did, he pushed down your bikini bottoms to reveal your naked ass and pussy.

“Your pussy looks rather inviting Love. So wet and tight” Tommy said just as you saw that his cock was hard and ready again but, when he walked behind you and aligned himself with your wetness, you began to tremble.

“Has anyone ever fucked you like this? From behind over a fucking desk?” he then asked and you shook your head.

“No Mr Shelby” you confirmed and a smile formed across his face.

“Well, Love, this may be a little uncomfortable at first then, but you will learn to enjoy it” Tommy then told you as his hands began roaming over your back and ass, squeezing at your flesh.

You moaned, especially when his hands came around to your front and began squeezing your breasts which you lifted off the desk just as his hands demanded. Looking down you could see his hands kneading the tender mounds, playing with your nipples.

Then, without any warning whatsoever, Tommy pressed into you from behind, his cock rubbing along the length of your wet pussy, making you yearn for him to turn you over and spread your thighs open for him.

But this was not what he had planned and, instead, Tommy pulled one of his hands away from your breasts in order to line himself up with your pussy, and he began to push into you from behind. You gasped with this novel sensation as Tommy’s cock rubbed the insides of your pussy in a completely new way. He pushed into you all the way in one stroke until his groin met up with your ass cheeks and you could feel your flesh pressing against his body. The sensation made you moan and wiggle as you luxuriated in this new self-indulgence.

Then he pulled out and slammed in again, taking your breath away and rocking your body.

“Oh god” you moaned as you felt him all the way in your stomach. It was painful but also incredibly erotic.

Tommy’s hands moved around and started kneading your breasts again, making you moan as you pushed back against him.

With every thrust, you could feel your elbows buckling a little, and your wrists were starting to hurt as you grasped the cedar and you did not like how that distracted you from the pleasure you were feeling. With that, you lowered yourself to your elbows, which had the pleasant effect of lifting your ass into a better position.  

Liking your new position, Tommy slid back and put his hands on your hips so that he could admire the way his cock looked split open your pink pussy. He liked seeing you like this, taking him from behind and you moaned over and over again as you were impaled by his powerful thrusts.

Wetting his finger in his mouth, Tommy then pushed it against your yet still unexplored opening and was pleased to see that your body easily opened up and accepted it.

You were shocked and confused by what he was doing and, yet, your groans of pleasure got louder as he added a second finger.

“Oh god I feel so full” you moaned as you gave into the pleasure without thinking about how wrong it was and, after a little while, Tommy pulled his fingers from that tempting hole and used both his hands on your hips to pump you from behind even more powerfully, glorying in your cries of pleasure as he claimed you as his.

Soon, Tommy’s thrusts were coming harder and faster, and even though you were more stable on your elbows, you could feel him pushing you forward.

Reaching underneath your body, Tommy sought out your clit with his fingers, and you let out a cry of rapture as he began rubbing the engorged nub of pleasure. Your legs and arms trembled with the effort of holding yourself up as ecstasy threatened to overcome your senses, and Tommy continued to pound at you from the rear. As his fingers continued to rub, you could feel the heady tingling rush of your orgasm overtaking you, and you collapsed before him... he followed you down, his cock thrusting hard into your pussy and impaling you as you almost collapsed on the desk before him.

You could feel him growing bigger inside of you as you writhed with elated gratification, and your orgasm grew as, finally, you felt a strange but extremely pleasant sensation inside of you as Tommy was filling you with his seed.

It felt sensational and, whilst you were incredibly sore, you enjoyed the feeling of him inside of you like this and, after you finally came down from your high, you felt like your body was made of jelly. You felt so drained and shaky and then you moaned a little as Tommy’s lips and tongue pressed against your back, making your body jerk.

‘You did well Sweetheart. I quite enjoyed that’ he cooed before pulling his softening cock out of you and guiding you onto your feet, allowing you to turn around and catch your breath.

‘Oh god so did I” you barely managed to say and, just as you spoke, Tommy kissed you once more.

‘I have work to do now, but we should do this again sometime soon” he announced and you knew that this wasn’t going to be just a one-off encounter.

“I would like that Mr Shelby” you thus confirmed before retrieving your panties from the floor and putting them back on just before his cum could drip out of your well used hole.

“Good. Now clean yourself before you go back into the pool, eh” he smirked and you gave him a quick wink before you disappeared into the hallway.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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[amorphousbl0b]

Arcane does a fun thing with its narrative Darkest Hour.

Or: yet another post about how insanely smart this show is and how absolutely genius its writers are (and how jealous of them I am).

For the uninitiated, the Darkest Hour is the moment just before the climax in which the heroes are at their lowest point. When the Avengers are scattered and Loki opens the portal in NYC, when the Falcon has escaped the Death Star but lost Obi-Wan, when the Fire Nation is set to annihilate the Earth Kingdom, when Frodo fails to destroy the Ring at the Crack of Doom. The heroes must confront their flaws and change for the better for a happy ending.

Arcane’s darkest hour is, of course, in Act 3. One might place it at the very end of episode 9, and that’s certainly where the story is at its most hopeless. But I’d contend it starts as early as the end of episode 8 and carries on through the entirety of episode 9.

After all, that’s when Caitlyn and Vi have separated, lost all hope, and Cait is kidnapped by Jinx. Jinx’s mind is fully gone and throughout the episode everything falls apart around her. Silco is losing control of his chembarons and may well have lost his daughter, the thing most precious to him, and is only barely keeping his powerful façade in line. Zaun has realized how ridiculously outmatched they are in a war with Piltover and the revolutionary cause has become almost impossible. Viktor has manslaughtered his assistant and may never be cured. Jayce has manslaughtered a child and finally realizes how quickly he’s losing his morals. Mel and her mother are fully separating and she is struggling with her warlike destiny. Sevika gets the absolute snot beat out of her and limps to an empty office without a boss.

So yeah. Lot of personal Darkest Hours going on.

“But what’s the interesting thing?” I hear you ask in my ear. I don’t know why I hear you. Shut up. I’m writing. Are you even real?

Excuse me.

Arcane’s interesting twist on the Darkest Hour lies in part of the trope that I didn’t mention. That’s in the villain.

Most stories with a clear-cut villain have a plot structure something like this:

Whether things are going well for one side is inversely proportional to the other. During the Darkest Hour, when the hero is at their weakest, the villain is at their most dominant.

Wait… isn’t Silco the villain of Arcane? Not to be too blunt, but he’s having a shit time. Things are falling apart for him just as badly as for everyone else.

That's the trick. Caitlyn and Vi are suffering. Jinx is suffering. Silco is suffering. Jayce is suffering. Viktor is suffering. Zaun as a whole is suffering. There is only one party in the whole story that isn't suffering, that actually is benefitting from this horrid state of affairs...

EKKO AND HEIMERDINGER

Kidding. They're not really a part of this dance. A big part of Arcane's theming is that acting to help people without an agenda is simply more virtuous than fighting for any invariably-flawed nation that innately perpetuates the cycle of violence.

No, the side that is doing fine is the other that is conspicuously absent from my two prior lists. While the characters that make up its leadership are experiencing personal Darkest Hours, the organization itself is essentially on top of the world, having just scored a huge victory and getting set to bring the war to an end before it even begins. I mentioned how poor the situation for the Undercity looks, but not its counterpart.

Piltover.

Wasn't it so that Piltover started this whole mess? Didn't their oppression cause the revolt that orphaned Vi and Powder's parents? Isn't it their actions that drive Silco to ever greater extremes? Isn't it their normalized political backstabbing that causes Jayce to sacrifice his principles because that's the only way to get ahead? Isn't it their corrupt police force that lets Silco operate his drug empire with impunity?

Silco might look the part. He might be the most personally evil character, might be the one who causes the most misery for our main protagonists Vi and Powder.

But structurally, the shining city of Piltover, its political machine, and its Enforcers are the actual villains of Arcane.

[starhvney]

Heyyy I just found your account and I adore it!!! If requests are still open could I request a Travis x reader where they just moved to the street and travis has been trying to woo them (and its highkey working). And one night theres this huge storm and the lower goes out while theyre at travis and dantes and Travis claims they need to “cuddle for warmth” (Dantes off somewhere idk) and its just really cute and he confesses his feelings and is a huge dork? Sorry if thats too specific, thank you so much and I hope your day has been lovely 💖

𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mys travis x reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: a power outage at a very inconveniencing time happens to be just the push you need to 

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: fluff, sharing a bed, travis being a dork, he wants to be suave so bad, like no sweetie you’re just cute, anyways yeah, you both smooch at the end hehehe he likes youuuu

𝐂𝐖: none? a small innuendo i suppose

𝐀/𝐍: i love travis my cutie schnookims! anyways i slightly changed the plot but it’s basically the same? i hope you like it regardless! Have a good day :)

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

it was time for one of aphmau’s annual parties, and the girl had enthusiastically made a point to include you with her friend group to join in on their celebration. from the way she described it, it sounded like it would be a fun time, and as the new girl in the neighborhood, you definitely couldn’t reject the generous notion. 

especially when you found out that most of your neighbors had already been friends with each other since high school. it was really intimidating, to be thrown in a place where everyone around you already had a bond. how did they all even manage to find these nice houses next to each other?

you were grateful that they all were really friendly and seemed really open to letting in new people into the group. one had been especially friendly—a certain man with white hair and charmingly bright green eyes. you couldn’t lie he was attractive, and honestly one of the funniest ones in the group, but with his overly confident “womanizer” attitude you couldn’t help but obliviously ignore his advances on you.

it wasn’t that you weren’t interested. but you wouldn’t be easy against his rather brazen pickup lines and… dorky charm. he’d have to work for it. besides, it was kind of fun to watch him chase after you like a lost puppy.

that’s what brings you here, in your kitchen, the night before the party with travis himself. after all, you hadn’t accepted his flirtatious moves, but you most definitely hadn’t rejected them, either. everyone volunteered to cook a dish for the party in the group chat, and conveniently he happened to once again be loitering in your house—a habit he had started after you made it known he was welcome—as everyone discussed what they’d bring. he’d suggested for you both to hang out and cook your dishes together, and you couldn’t let down that hopeful glint in the man’s eyes.

“travis, now why in the world would you think mustard is scary. you have got to be messing with me right now.” you scoff, leaning back on your counter.

“i’m not!” he defends with his hands up, snickering at the unimpressed face you shoot him. “a lot of people get unnerved by random things for no reason! like mushrooms, and lots of holes, and even just a drop of blood!”

he points up as the window flashes with light, a loud thunder strike from the storm raging on outside cracking right after. “and thunderstorms!”

“okay, drama queen. i’d say being scared of thunderstorms and blood is a lot more justifiable than a condiment.” you scoff, before frowning as the wind howls and aggressively throws thick pellets of rain into your windows. “speaking of which, i’m not scared of storms but i don’t know if walking or even driving back down the street to your house would be safe 

travis’s eyebrows raise, pretty dark eyelashes brushing along his cheekbones as he blinks at you in surprise. a second later he’s leaning onto the counter with a goofy-looking smirk on his face.

“so, you want me to stay?—”

crack!

“oh!” you startle, not missing how travis also jumped in place too. “i’m surprised the power hasn’t gone out yet…”

“don’t—” travis starts only to be interrupted by another loud crash of thunder from the sky, the both of you getting sent into complete darkness. “…jinx it.”

for a moment the both of you stand in your kitchen in silence, listening as the heater powers down along with the gentle whir of your household appliances. if you could see each other in this moment you imagine you’d both be awkwardly standing with your arms by your sides. another flash of lightning briefly lights up the room to show your assumption was correct, and you burst into giggles after seeing travis’s pressed lips and wide eyes.

“huh? why are you laughing?” travis asks, though the amused warble in his voice gives himself away before he starts laughing with you.

it wasn’t freezing cold outside, but it most definitely wasn’t warm enough to get away with not having the heater on in your house. the immediate lack of hot air rushing through the vents sent a small chill against your skin, even through your warm pajamas.

your laughter stops as realization of your situation seeps in with the cold. not only was your heater off, but so was your fridge and your…

“oh my god our food is ruined.”

there’s a dreadful pause for silence—and now that your eyes are adjusting to the dark—you see travis whip his head to look down at the oven, where your dishes were only halfway cooked inside.

“…damn.”

“that's all you have to say, travis?” you chide.

“what? i mean, there’s nothing we can do about it, right?”

a disappointed sigh leaves your lips before you reach over to your phone, the screen lighting up to show the late hour it already was. there’s no telling how long the power would be out, and this was enough for the wind to blow out of your sails. you can’t be bothered to try and figure out a way to fix this.

a full-body shiver wracks your body as you stare blankly at your screen.

“hey, i can help you remake everything tomorrow morning if it’s ruined by then.” travis suddenly says. 

his voice is a bit closer, and you realize he’s moved right in front of you, part of his face now also glowing in your phone’s dim light. the look on his face is genuine and he seems almost worried, his own lips mimicking your own downturned expression. it makes you sigh, dropping your tense shoulders as another rumble of thunder vibrates through your house.

travis gently sets his hand over yours and your phone. “why don’t you sleep and i can come back in the morning?”

“come back?” you repeat. “no way you’re going back in this weather, that’s so dangerous! plus you’ll get sick.”

travis stares down at both of your slippered feet, then over to the kitchen windows, then back to you. “okay, i’ll stay if you want me to.”

you shiver again as you nod, crossing your arms to conserve the heat from escaping your body. you’re surprised at how calm and passive he was being. it’s not like he was always overbearing with his flirting and jokes, but it seemed to always be a part of his personality—not whatever this… soft, quiet version of him was.

“cold already?” he asks, rocking on his feet himself as he clenches and unclenches his hands.

“yeah… i didn’t know i needed the heater running that much, but i guess the storm made it even colder…” you mutter.

you catch his smirk through the dark. “well i know one way we can warm each other up—”

ah, there he is.

you’re about to swing a slap wherever it would land in the dark, though you stop when the suggestion clicks in your brain as an opportunity to give in to his advances—but with a perfect excuse.

“oh yeah! we can do that!”

travis’s eyes blow wide open as he takes a step back, a few startled coughs leaving his lips from inhaling too suddenly.

“wait, what?!”

“we can cuddle.”  you simply return. “since there’s no heater!”

he deflates his tense shoulders, nervous laughs leaving his lips. “oh, yeah! right, yeah. cool cool cool. that’s what i meant.”

turning on your phone flashlight you grab his hand, guiding him through your house while trying to hold back the urge to laugh at his flustered state. you wish the lights were on only so you could see whether he was blushing or not.

your bedroom was already a bit chilly compared to the kitchen, since it was at the far end of the house away from the main flow of your ac system. it makes you pull travis closer as you speed up your steps to your bed, finally letting go of him to rip open the comforter and dive into the sheets.

shimmying over to make room for him, you wave him to you through the dark to get in himself. you watch him rock back and forth on his feet before leaning over, crawling in right next to you and keeping just an inch of distance between the two of you.

“you sure you’re okay with this?” he whispers to you.

“yeah, of course i am.”

this seems to set off a green light for him, his arms circling around your waist and pulling you practically on top of him. you feel his feet kick next to yours, squeaking out a tiny “yay!” in celebration. the act was insanely adorable for the grown age he was at.

you can only quietly giggle at his antics, unable to nonchalantly play it off as usual. you hug him back, tucking yourself under his chin, and you feel his chest swell in a happy inhale. 

“i love you.” he sighs, a dopey smile evident in his tone. 

it makes your heart stutter in your chest, eyes wide open as they stare at his chest in the dark. 

“…what?”

his arms tense around you, breath hitching like he just realized what he said and beginning to stutter out an excuse. “um… i mean… not like…! oh my—i’m so sorry—”

“you really like me?” you ask, pulling back enough to make out his face in the dark. his eyes are wide and round, face in shock and embarrassment as if he had just slipped and fell in front of a whole crowd.

“i… i mean… isn’t it obvious?” he whispers sheepishly.

“well, you flirt with a lot of people. i didn’t know if you meant it with me or not.”

“no, not anymore!” he lurches himself closer to you. “didn’t you notice i only do that with you now?”

you blink as you try to recall a recent time you’ve seen or heard travis trying to use a pick up line or even staring at another one of the girls, and you honestly can’t recall it.

“…i guess so.” you mutter, and he squeezes you to him.

“so i do mean it with you! i know i can be really stupid and a little annoying, but—”

“you’re not annoying, travis. the things you do are a little stupid sometimes—”

“hey!”

“—but i think it’s cute.”

his jaw drops and mouth opens in shock. “you…you do? wait, do you…?”

you nod. “i like you.”

there’s a beat of silence, before he pulls you tight against him. a second later he rolls you around with him very similarly to how a crocodile rolls their prey, though the taller and heavier man thankfully keeps his weight from completely crushing you.

“travis!” you laugh, groaning at the sudden movement as you’re captured and thrown around like a rag doll. “how do you have this energy right now?”

“really?” he squeals, giggling like a schoolgirl. “you like me?”

“yes! now release me! please!” you breathlessly laugh.

he at least stops the rolling at your pleading, though he keeps you in his bear hug as he holds you on top of him.

“so, does this mean you want to date me?” he eagerly asks, still breathing heavily from the death roll he just made you endure.

you rest your forehead on his chest, quietly laughing to yourself in a bit of shock of what you just admitted. how did you give in so easily? you were hoping to drag this out for at least another month!

“it’s so late. why don’t we talk about this in the morning?”

he deflates and audibly pouts with a dejected sigh, and despite his dramatics clearly being played up you can’t help but still feel a bit guilty. rising up to your elbows you lean over him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and another on his lips.

"you dork." you chide under your breath.

his eyes are so wide you can see the whites all around the dark green of his irises. suddenly his hands are cupping your cheeks, and he’s bringing you down for a longer kiss. he pulls away a few moments later, seeming much more satisfied than he was a few moments ago.

“okay… we can talk in the morning.” he agrees breathlessly, staring up at you like he’d been locked away in a cave all his life and you were his first glance at the stars in the sky.

it makes the smile on your face impossible to fight, and you don’t think you care to anymore.

“good night, travis.”

“good night, hon.”

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

taglist: @wasting-away-on-the-internet

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Dancing With Fire Part 2: Save me ✨

- Summary: You’re starring in the ballet Swan Lake, taking on the lead role in New York. You practice day and night and are always staying after hours. You keep seeing Joel around the theater, the hot maintenance worker you can’t keep your eyes off of. You aren’t the only one though because you think he’s watching you too.

- Tags: No outbreak, protective Joel, angst, fingering, oral, cream pie, abusive dance partner, tension, longing, porn with plot, smut, dom! Joel (reader mid 20’s, Joel in his early 40’s) Joel x you, No use Y/N

- Word Count: 9.2k

- Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Part 1 Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The long days seemed to blur together. You were constantly being worked overtime. Carlotta was insistent that you stay over every day and practice till you got every single move perfect. It was grueling, excessive and honestly a chore. You had absolutely no free time to yourself except some weekends. Not that it mattered. You had no friends in New York, but it’d still be nice to have some room to breathe and relax.

Today was an exceptionally bad day because you had to spend the entire day dancing with Pierre, your awful dance partner. He was tall, had slicked back short blonde hair, beady blue eyes, and had a short temper. A lot of the girls fawned over him, gushing how handsome and nice he was. You wanted to laugh every time you saw it happen because you knew how he really was behind those thin walls.

He was cruel and brutally wicked. A pig at best.

You’d never forget that day where the company threw a celebration party for the cast after auditions. He’d introduced himself and offered you his hand as he congratulated you for getting the lead. He seemed friendly enough until he tried to smother you and demand you let him take you out. You politely declined, not interested in fraternizing with your co-star.

What happened next was something you wanted to forget entirely. When you turned to leave after saying no, he’d grabbed your hips and pulled you to him, securing his hands around your waist. You tried to pull out of his grasp, but he dug his nails into you so hard that you couldn’t. You snapped at him and demanded he get his hands off you, but he wouldn’t listen. He had other intentions. Intentions you didn’t want to revisit.

“Let me make this clear. Refuse me and I will make your time here a living hell,” Pierre had warned, leaning into your ear and whispering so nobody else could hear the conversation around you in the busy foyer, the two of you standing in the corner of the shadows where no one looked over to. You squirmed and stomped on his foot in defense.

He finally let you go, wincing from the pain of your foot. You kicked his shin with your long heel and cursed him for laying a hand on you. He intended to sleep with you, but there was no way in hell you were letting that happen. He even tried again a week after that, but he had failed miserably.

You tried to confront Carlotta about the whole thing, but she had shut you down and said Pierre would never do such a thing, and it had made you want to quit right then and there. But you worked for this your whole life, so you decided against it. You’d just roll with the punches until the last show was over. It was just a few months. Which couldn’t hurt. Right?

“Alright, let’s take it from the top. Pierre, the first dance with the swan. Go on,” Carlotta commanded, pointing to you with cat-like nails to get ready.

As the slow, romantic music filled the auditorium, you took your spot and got into fifth position, placing your arms over your head like the delicate swan queen you were.

Pierre was smirking at you from the other side of the polished stage, his blue eyes narrowing into slits. Before Carlotta spotted him, he put on a huge fake smile and turned his eyes friendly.

What a fake.

You rolled your eyes and then started the routine as he danced over to you, grabbing your hands and twirling you around the stage in a frenzy. You hated every second you had to dance with him, wanting to push him out of your hold and smack him across the face.

You kept your vision on the red velvet walls as he spun you over and over, lifting you over his head and catching you after your big leap, pirouetting from his hold until he joined you again, clashing you to his chest.

“Smile pretty now. Don’t want Carlotta to get on to you,” he smirked, turning you again so you were facing him.

You scowled up at him and glared. “Don’t worry about me.”

When he turned you back around to face Carlotta, you put on a big smile, not showing her just how uncomfortable you truly were. Before you took another step, Pierre stomped on your pointe shoe hard and tripped you, almost falling over before he grabbed you.

“Stop, stop! Start again. None of that,” Carlotta huffed as she put a hand on her forehead like she was in agony.

You turned fast and gritted your teeth at him. “What the hell was that?”

He laughed quietly and smiled down at you. “Just having a little fun,” he teased, taking his hand and fixing a flyaway on the top of your head.

You grabbed his hand and shoved it away from you. “Don’t touch me unless we’re dancing,” you hissed, stomping away from him back into your starting position. You could still hear him quietly laughing as he took his place across the stage, smirking up at you with a dare in his eyes.

Fucking idiot.

You went through the same dance time and time again that day, Pierre always doing something to mess up the routine so you’d have to start from the very top. You were absolutely done with him, wanting to just go home. It was almost 4:00pm, and you still hadn’t had a break. Your body was about done for.

“You two, I want you to go through a few more times. I have a meeting I can’t be late for,” she said hurriedly as she grabbed her stack of folders and pink iPhone.

No.

She was leaving you alone with this thing? Fear crept through your body and slithered down your spine, leaving no room for breathing.

“Wait, Carlotta…”

She cut you off fast. “No buts, you’re staying and that’s final. You two work it out. Today was not your best work. The two of you need some bonding time, so go focus on perfect form and pointed feet,” she said harshly.

Her cell phone started buzzing and she picked it up and answered with a laugh, walking away until her high pitched voice was out of range and she was disappearing through the back doors. Leaving you all alone with Pierre.

You slowly turned and gulped away your fear. Focus. He couldn’t do anything to you. Could he? No. He wouldn’t. Surely not.

As soon as you turned, he was staring down at you with cold calculating eyes, a smirk plastered against his mouth as his sunken cheekbones reflected off the auditorium bright lights.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, princess,” he scoffed.

“Let’s just get this over with,” you insisted, taking a big step away from him.

“Oh come now, you don’t wanna spend a little quality time with me?” he said in a deceiving way, sticking his lower lip out like he was pouting.

“No,” you said back in a hard tone, your eyebrows furrowing at the cruel man that stood before you. “You did this on purpose! You kept messing me up in practice so Carlotta would make us stay longer. You thought that was okay?”

“Of course I did it on purpose,” he laughed.

“You’re making me look bad in front of her! And you’re really fucked up for doing that, you know that?” you bit back bitterly, almost biting down on your tongue.

He was laughing at your words, a wicked cackling sound escaping his throat. He just stood there taunting you, asking you to throw another insult his way. Daring you to keep on.

You rolled your eyes and got into place. “Enough. Let’s just do this already,” you said firmly as you raised your arms into your starting pose.

“Fine by me,” he said as he got into his own position, signaling you to begin.

You started the routine, moving your arms gracefully up and down as you made your way to center stage, putting your pointe shoes to use as you dug your toes into the ground, twirling around as he chased you across the stage. You were the swan that got away, and he was on the hunt for you. Carlotta always said seduce him, make him fall in love with you. That’s the last thing you wanted. It was all for the act, the ballet. That was your mission in this dance routine, and it was your least favorite because of it.

You performed your best, making every turn sharp, pointing your toes with perfect precision, elongating your arms to be as graceful as a flower, lifting your legs as high as they’d go. Making every single move pristine so this would be the only run through you’d have to do tonight.

He was the hunter in this scene, and you were the beautiful, untouchable swan. His mission was to catch you, and yours was to keep away until he could finally reach you. He chased you throughout the dance. With every turn you’d make, he’d try to get closer. Reaching, fighting, trying with all his might to snatch you. He stretched out an arm, but you jumped out of his wavelength. He tried again as you flew across the stage in a graceful run.

But in the end he won. Finally winning you over as you stopped in the middle of the stage motionless as he grabbed your waist and spun you on your toes in place, catching your arms above your head and then stopping your rotations. His arms were still on your waist as you faced him, almost chest to chest with him. Suddenly he turned you and positioned you in a laying back position when the song ended, signaling the end of the routine.

You took a breath before getting up and then attacked instantly. “Why didn’t you just do that in practice today? That was spotless, clean. We could’ve been done a lot earlier if you wouldn’t have kept messing me up,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Remember that night I said I’d make your life a living hell? Well, I wasn’t kidding,” he said with a laugh, his blue eyes piercing into you like a knife, making your insides instantly icy. “I can make it go away, you know. I can stop taunting you every day. All you have to do is change your mind.”

You dropped your arms to your side as they grazed the white tights, trying to make your mind focus on anything but that night. “No,” you said firmly.

“No? You sure about that?” he asked as he grabbed a hold of your wrist and pulled you into his chest, his grip on you not letting up.

You tried to pull away, but he grabbed you tighter, digging his fingers into your skin. Searing it with a tinge of pain. You winced in response. “Let. Go,” you said slowly as you glared up at him, daring him to try anything else.

“I don’t think so,” he said as he pulled you tighter, pain resonating through your wrist.

“I mean it, Pierre. Let go or I’ll scream,” you warned, giving him your best dirty look you could muster.

He narrowed his eyes as he locked his jaw, weighing his options carefully. He dug his fingers in one more time and then released you, letting his fingertips leave marks against your sore wrist.

“Little bitch,” he muttered under his breath as he turned the opposite way, about to head out.

“Prick,” you muttered quietly.

He must’ve heard you because he spun around so fast that you could’ve sworn he got whiplash.

“You better watch it,” he warned, pointing a finger terribly close to your face.

“Or what?” you asked confidently, wanting to fight back.

“Or else I’ll have no choice but to do this,” he said as he took a step towards you and pulled your arm, forcing you up against his chest.

“Let me go,” you demanded as you hit him in the chest, trying your hardest to pull out of his grasp.

“Change your mind then maybe I will,” he smirked, laughing at you while you struggled against him.

“Get the fuck off me,” you shouted as you pushed at his upper body, slipping away from his sharp grasp.

He tried grabbing you again as he caught your wrist, his fingernails digging into you. You spit into his face, and then he did something that shocked your entire system. He slapped you hard across the face as you felt a sudden searing, stinging pain fill your cheek. Then he pushed you down against the hardwood floor as you landed with a hard thud on your hands and knees.

“No more saying no to me, little swan. Have to teach you some manners. Let me show you how it’s done.”

He took a step closer and you cowered over, shutting your eyes so you could block out the ringing noise that was blasting through your eardrums. So close to having a panic attack, not wanting him to lay another hand on you. You shaded your eyes against the shining floor and sank down as far as your body could go.

You waited for the next blow to come, but it never came. Instead, you heard a loud crashing sound behind you, like something had just collided into the wall.

You looked up and glanced behind you, freezing once you saw just what it was. You gasped, too stunned to move.

There he was. Joel.

Joel had Pierre cornered into the red wall, slamming his body hard against it as his hands dug into Pierre’s white shirt. Bunching the material so much that it looked like the shirt would rip at any moment.

“Think you’re such a tough guy, huh? Do ya get off on hitting women for fun you twisted fuck?! Huh? Well, do ya?!” Joel yelled into Pierre’s horrified face, digging his fingers deeper into his shirt, bringing him closer to the bared teeth of his scowl.

Pierre stuttered and couldn’t get a single word out, mumbling nonsense quietly to Joel.

“Answer me!” he growled, his eyes going the darkest shade of brown you’d ever seen them turn. Almost like a dark charcoal color, pupils getting larger by each second that ticked by.

“N-n-nooo,” he stuttered, chattering his teeth together as the whites of his eyes expanded.

Joel shoved his head against the wall, grabbing his blonde locks and pulling hard, making Pierre yelp. “If you ever lay a hand on her again I’ll break your fucking jaw. Do you understand?” he roared. His massive fingers moving up around Pierre’s neck to hold him in place, the veins in his hands growing larger, and his breathing coming out rough and winded.

“Y-yes,” Pierre shrieked.

“Repeat it!” Joel growled, jerking Pierre’s blonde locks so hard that you swore he was about to pull out a fist full of hair or snap his neck all together. You weren’t sure which would come first.

Joel pulled harder, making Pierre scream out in pain. “Alright, alright! I won’t touch her again. Unless we’re performing for the show.” He looked scared as his eyes were bulging out of his skull and his face was scrunched up into absolute terror.

Joel accepted that answer and muttered a groan. His eyes were locked on Pierre, hounding him with those dark brown eyes. He was feral, unhinged, overpowering as he stood there holding Pierre in place, punishing him for putting his hands on you. It was so hot. Making your insides feel all sorts of warmth as you sat there in awe, watching your protector defend you.

It was absolutely exhilarating.

Joel slowly released his hand from his shirt and backed up just the tiniest bit from Pierre, giving him room to breathe. Pierre pressed against his shirt and smoothed it out, fighting to catch his breath as his eyes were wild with fright. He took a step past Joel, but Joel stopped him, putting a strong hand against his bicep as he grasped him firmly, turning him so he could face those burning brown eyes.

“I’ll be keepin’ a close eye on ya. Better learn where your fucking place is before I put you in it,” he warned, turning his mouth into a hard scowl as his forehead hardened into wrinkles. “You do anything to give her a hard time and I will have words with you. Words that lead to fists,” he stated firmly as his right hand clenched into a tight fist.

His jaw flexed as his eyes glanced over Pierre’s timid face, finally releasing his grip and letting him run off the stage in complete fear. Not wanting to stay in Joel’s fuming presence anymore.

You sat on the floor gawking at the tall, broad man in front of you who had just saved you from God knows what. Your breath was coming out shallowly as your eyes were wide, staring at his large biceps that were flexed and pulling at his denim button up. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing those long protruding veins that you couldn’t get enough of.

You watched as his colossal hands went from tight, flexed fists to relaxed fingers against his dark jeans. His jaw went from tensed to tempered as he continued glaring in the direction that Pierre had fled in. A faint smolder setting his features that made you weak in the knees. A vision you wanted to burn into the back of your mind. The man that made you ignite with desire.

Your savior.

Joel finally dropped his tight fisted knuckles and relaxed his glare, turning in your direction. The moment he saw you he dropped his furrowed eyebrows and came to your side, kneeling down to be eye level with you.

“Are you hurt?” he asked with concerned brown eyes as he reached his arms out to place on your shoulders, making you shutter at how warm his hands were on your bare skin.

“No, I-I’m alright,” you responded breathlessly, forgetting about your aching jaw. Too focused on the gorgeous man that was right in front of you, bending at the knee to examine your frail body.

“Here, let’s get you up off this floor so I can take a look at ya.” He held out a hand, and you didn’t hestitate to take it, feeling right at home when his rough fingers met your smooth skin. Sending electricity through your fingertips.

He grabbed a hold of your waist and hoisted you up off the cold floor, bringing you over to sit on a beige upholstered bench behind the stage. He sat down next to you and turned you to face him, his concerned honey eyes looking over your face carefully. He reached out a hand and slowly lifted your chin, gently bringing his fingers to the left cheek that was raw from the hard slap.

He moved ever so gently, sliding his fingers slowly over your jaw. Examining it to make sure there was no damage to the skin. His calloused fingers brushed against your cheek, making a tingle run down your neck, sinking its way to your lower region. You fought back a blush as he continued looking you over thoroughly. He hit a sensitive spot and you winced against his touch. He apologized as he dropped his hand, leaving your cheek cold and untouched.

“I don’t see any bruises, but you might wanna ice that tonight,” he said as he ghosted his fingers over your thigh, barely putting his fingers on you. But it was enough to make you jolt in place.

“You alright?” he asked quietly, noticing your jumpiness. You couldn’t help it though. He made you feel like a complete nervous wreck, never able to fully calm yourself when he was in your presence.

“Yeah, just a little shaken up still,” you stammered out, eyes fixed on the thick fingers that laid against your thigh.

You peered back up into his face as it changed from relaxed to apprehensive as he furrowed his brows. It made your eyes go that much wider, not fully understanding why this man made you feel the things you did when you barely knew him.

“Is that the first time he’s hit you?” he asked with a serious gaze, his jaw clenching into a fist.

“Yeah, that’s the first time,” you sighed, trying not to think about how scared you were in the moment. What you were afraid he would’ve done if Joel wasn’t around. Just to spite you and take what he thought was his to take. It made you sick.

“And it’ll be the last time if I have anything to do with it,” he said with bared teeth, his eyes growing darker the more he talked about it.

You sat there gaping at him, your eyes sinking deep into his as you were swooning at the way he was talking about defending you. Making every single fiber in your body want to melt into his chest, wrap your arms around him so he’d never let go.

You got your wits about you and focused back on the brooding man that sat in front of you, his fingers still laying against your toned thigh.

“Thank you. For saving me,” you said slowly, looking up from underneath your long lashes, your fingers digging into the soft material of the bench nervously.

Joel’s large veins tightened up in his neck as he flexed his jaw again, eyes still alight with anger, but then he slowly relaxed as he gazed into your eyes. Those amber eyes simmering into yours.

“‘Course, darlin’. I wasn’t gonna let him hurt ya,” he said gently as he brought his hand to your cheek, slowly caressing you tenderly. He looked so composed, so soft as he ran slow circles across the skin, easing away your pain.

And fuck, did it feel good.

“You hungry?” he asked as he let his hand fall back to his side.

Your stomach growled at the mention of food. You were more than hungry. You were starving. Ravenous almost. “Starving,” you answered almost too quickly.

“You like Italian?” he asked with a raised brow.

“Do I like Italian? It’s my absolute favorite,” you said excitedly, almost bouncing out of your seat.

Joel noticed the response and laughed casually, his dimples forming over that beautiful mouth of his, making your insides buzz with glee.

“Alright then. C’mon, I’m taking you to eat,” he said as he stood up and held out a hand for you to take.

You glanced at his rough hand for a few seconds, blinking slowly, trying to process that Joel was about to take you to dinner. You finally got up the nerve to reach your hand out, sliding your fingers along the back of his calloused hand until he closed his fingers around you.

It felt so good. So right. Like putting on the perfect fitting glove. A warm, gentle embrace that was only for you.

He started pulling you towards the side door, but you stopped fast. Painfully pulling your hand away from his tight hold. “Just a second. Let me go change real quick,” you said hurriedly as you started to head towards your dressing room.

“Alright. I’ll be here when you’re ready,” he stated.

As you rounded the corner to the back of the stage, you turned your head, stealing one more glance at Joel. Your heart skipped when you saw he was staring back at you. You gave him a quick smile before you ran fast to your dressing room, nearly knocking over the pink wardrobe dresser as you threw off your pointe shoes and leotard, stripping your tights to expose bare skin.

You pulled on a pair of yoga pants and an oversized purple sweater, quickly slipping on the white Converse to finish the job. You swiftly undid your too tight bun and ran a hand through your messy hair, trying to tame the long waves that went down a little past your shoulder blades.

You checked yourself in the mirror one more time before you decided it was good enough. You were ready.

As you made your way out of the dressing room and rounded the corner to the stage, you found Joel with his hands in his pockets, waiting patiently. As soon as he caught a glimpse of you his eyes went wide as his brown eyes trailed down over your waves, past your long legs and then back up into your face. He looked mildly surprised, like this was the first time he was actually seeing you. And that made you shiver with anticipation.

You walked up to him slowly, batting your long eyelashes at him and giving him a gentle smile. Trying your best not to look like the absolute wreck you were and instead trying to look as flirtatious as you could come off as. “Okay, I’m ready,” you beamed, giving him your best smile.

A small smile crept up to his lips as he ran a hand through his tousled curls, making something stir deep inside you. You wanted to know what it felt like to slip your own hand through his hair, wanting so badly to tousle it even more, dig your fingers into his scalp. You wondered if it was just as smooth as you imagined, just as coarse.

He brought you back to reality as his deep voice smothered all your senses. “C’mon then. I’m gonna show ya my favorite restaurant. It’s jus’ bout a ten minute walk from here. Not too far.”

And then he was leading you out of the massive auditorium and out of the theater, stepping into the chilled breezy evening as the wind howled and the orange leaves blew across the busy road.

It didn’t take you long to get to the restaurant. Matter of fact, it took no time at all as Joel was easy with conversations. Something that came naturally to him. You weren’t usually the best talker, but with him it was different. It was simple, just like a walk in the park. It was unforced, carefree, and casual. You never felt like this with anyone else which was strange, but you’d take it. Because every minute you spent with Joel, the more you liked him. The more you wanted to be around him. The more your insides burned for him.

Once you were inside, a waiter led you to a back booth. Joel took one side and you took the other, sitting back into the black cushion as your hands went to the menu the waiter placed out for you. He took your drink orders and left the two of you alone.

As you looked around, you took in the laid-back, quiet ambience of the restaurant. A single white rose adorned each table, the chiffon curtains draped over the lavish tall windows, and soft music played over the speakers faintly. It smelled like garlic bread and serenading pasta in here, making the inside of your mouth water with hunger. The back booth that you sat at was a little private as no one sat around you. The restaurant was quiet, peaceful as the dinner rush had not yet entered. Giving you the perfect opportunity to talk to Joel without the weight of a loud crowd or overstimulating environment.

As you looked over the luxurious menu, you could feel Joel’s eyes on you, suddenly averting your gaze from the jumbled words on the page.

“Know what ya want?” he asked coolly.

You quickly scanned the menu and decided on the first thing that popped out at you. “Think I’m gonna go with the chicken Alfredo pasta.” Your go to always.

“Not a bad choice,” he nodded.

When the waiter came back, Joel ordered for you, telling the waiter you’d have the chicken Alfredo pasta and he’d have the classic Italian spaghetti. The waiter left a basket of fresh garlic bread in the center of the table before heading off and placing your order. It smelled amazing as the warm buttery scent wafted through your senses.

You reached out and grabbed a hot piece and sunk your teeth into it, quickly devouring it as the melty goodness ran down your throat. You held in a moan as the taste hit you hard, pulling at that hunger that had been attached to you all day.

“This is the best bread I’ve ever tasted,” you gushed, taking another bite without wasting time.

“Glad ya like it,” he said with a smile that curved at the corners. One that could make you weak at the knees.

After you finished the first piece and sat in silence for a few moments, Joel spoke again. “So, tell me about yourself. You go to college out here?”

You looked up after wiping your hands on the crimson napkin, dabbing at the corners of your mouth. “I attended Juilliard. Just graduated a couple of years ago.”

“You went for dance I assume?” he asked with a raised brow.

“Mhm. They actually gave me a full ride after I submitted my audition and application to them. Guess they were impressed by me,” you said as you shrugged your shoulders.

Joel let out a low whistle, leaning back in his seat to take a better look at you. “Full ride, huh? Impressive,” he said with awe. “And ‘course they were impressed. I mean, look at ya. The way ya dance says it all. And not to mention you’re easy on the eyes,” he said lowly as his coffee colored eyes flicked over your face, making your cheeks burn as you simmered in his presence.

You pulled back a lock of hair behind your ear and fidgeted in your seat, suddenly a nervous wreck again from the smolder he was giving off. Making your insides complete jelly. “Oh, uhhh, thanks,” you said shyly.

“You always know that’s what ya wanted to do? To dance?” he asked as he leaned his elbows against the table, placing his hands under his chin so he could give you his full attention. You gulped at the sight.

“My parents said I was dancing before I even learned to talk. They put me in some classes after I learned to walk, and I never looked back since. That’s what I love,” you said knowingly.

He gave you a small nod and continued staring at you, making you that much more nervous. Before he could ask you anything else, you threw a question in. Wanting to know about him.

“What about you? You aren’t from around here are you? Not with that southern accent you have. Where are you from?” you asked curiously.

“Austin, Texas,” he said with a thick accent coming off the s.

You nodded in response. You should’ve guessed that. Of course he was. How could you not hear it in that sultry southern accent?

“And what on earth made you move from Texas to New York? That’s quite the change,” you said questionably, observing his stature as he sat up just the tiniest bit straighter before he spoke.

“I found some high paying contract jobs up here and couldn’t pass ‘em up. Money was too good. Thought a change of scenery might do me some good too. Been in Texas all my life, wanted to see what else was out there.”

Made sense. “And now you’re working for the theater?” you asked with raised eyebrows. Questioning his choice in work.

“Stumbled upon them from a client of mine. Said they were lookin’ for someone to help keep the theater in one piece. Always needin’ something fixed. And the pay and benefits were worth it. So now I just do contract work on the side. Keeps me busy, but that’s how I prefer it,” he said straightforward as he took a swig of his water and sat back against the booth seat.

“I see. Well, I’m…” You stopped yourself from what you were about to say, biting your tongue as you felt the tinge of blood run down the back of your throat.

He raised an eyebrow and kinked his neck while his honey eyes bore into you. Making you gulp at the sight. “Well, go on. Finish your sentence,” he urged.

You took a breath and finished what you were holding back. “I’m glad you decided to come to New York.”

“And why’s that?” he asked as he leaned forward, elbows going on the table, and eyes growing darker. Making something stir deep inside you.

You leaned forward as well, digging your fingers into the cushioned material, getting a grip on yourself. “Because I met you…” you whispered bravely, staring up into those dark eyes that turned a bit more primal but yet stayed soft. Triggering heat inside your legs.

The waiter interrupted the tense moment and placed the food on the table, quickly disappearing once again. The suspense ended as you looked down at the glorious plate of food that sat in front of you. Carbs galore. Exactly what you were craving.

You didn’t waste a second as you dug your fork into the creamy noodles, scooping up a large amount and shoving into your mouth. You nearly moaned at the taste as the marinated noodles slid down your throat, the Alfredo sauce setting off all your taste buds into a frenzy. You scooped up more and pushed another fork full into your mouth, almost forgetting Joel was right in front of you.

You nearly coughed up your food as you looked up to see him watching you carefully, an amused look on his face. He wasn’t even touching his food yet. He was just sitting there watching you closely, while a noodle was hanging out of your mouth.

How embarrassing.

You quickly swallowed the noodles and wiped your mouth with your napkin, making sure there was no sauce left on your face. You were mortified at what he just saw. He probably thought you had no table manners. Christ. You did not want to give off a bad impression to him.

“Sorry, I got a little carried away. The food is absolutely sensational,” you stated quickly as your cheeks burned bright red.

He laughed a little at your hurried apology, his eyes glowing brightly as he watched you. “No need to apologize, sunshine. Glad ya like the food.”

There it was. That nickname. Sunshine. The one that pulled at your heartstrings and made you want to shriek with admiration.

God, he got you good.

Something shifted in his eyes as he watched you twirl the spoon in the bowl full of steaming noodles. A concerned, caring look. He leaned forward again and concentrated on your facial features.

“They’re starving you, aren’t they?” he asked with fleeting brown eyes, carefully registering your hesitation to the question.

“What? Well, I wouldn’t quite say it that way…” you said too quietly, digging your fork into a cooked piece of chicken.

“Don’t lie to me, sunshine,” he warned, a serious look glossing over his eyes, causing them to grow darker.

“They…well, they don’t really let me have breaks often when I’m at the theater. And by the time I do get to the break room, someone has already thrown my food out…”

He didn’t like that answer. Not one bit. You saw his jaw clench and his lip twinge, watching as the veins in his neck bulge.

Oh, no. He wasn’t just mad. He was furious.

He leaned all his weight into the table, leaning forward so you could look him straight in the eyes, making it known that he wanted you to pay attention. “From now on you leave your lunches with me. And you will have breaks,” he said with gritted teeth.

You gasped at the force in his voice, the way he was making it known that you would be taken care of. You were swooning then, loving how protective he was being.

“But Carlotta, she doesn’t let me…”

He cut you off quick. “I don’t give a fuck what she says,” he growled, nostrils flaring as his breath came out ragged. “You will eat and you will have breaks. I’ll make damn sure of that,” he promised with a thick, deep tone as his dark eyes penetrated straight through your walls, sending you into a spiral of overdrive. “Okay?”

“Okay…” you whispered. Slowly watching as his brooding eyes turn into softer chestnut colored eyes.

“Alright, well go on and eat. Don’t want your food gettin’ cold on ya.”

He was being so dominant. Dare you say even primal which sent a shot of warmth in between your thighs, making you squeeze your legs shut at the growing arousal that was building.

He was being so vigilant with you, so careful. You just couldn’t wrap your mind that this was actually happening. That he was happening. That he cared that much about what happened to you. This was all you ever wanted. He was what you needed. A protective, overbearing, gallant man. He was exactly what you pictured in your mind over the years. And it was happening.

This was happening.

You went back to eating your pasta, making sure you took slower bites, trying to savour the rich flavor in your watering mouth. You made sure to look up every few seconds to watch Joel down his spaghetti, watch as he twirled the long strings of noodles with his fork, trying not to drool at the way he was wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb. Gaping at the way he licked his fingers clean from the red sauce. Wishing that those fingers were your own.

You didn’t realize you were staring until he cleared his throat, lurching you out of your mind numbing thoughts of the brooding man that sat in front of you. He smiled gently, the corners of his mouth crinkling up as he focused on you. Only you.

“How old are ya, sweetheart?” he asked with charm in his voice, a lilt that could hum you to sleep.

“25,” you answered as you smoothed a lock of hair behind your ear nervously. “And you? How old are you?” you asked with your ears practically perked up.

“How old do ya think I am?” he asked as he tilted his head in curiosity.

You slowly studied his features, gathering as much information as you could before you guessed a wrong number. You carefully examined him as if you were drinking him in. Taking in his sensuous big lips, going over the slight wrinkles that lined his forehead when he was tense or angry, holding yourself back from running your hands through his thick, tousled dark curls, lingering on the scruff that lined his jaw, noticing the patchy grey areas along his hair. Gazing over his calm, collected composure. Fixing your sight on those warm, inviting deep brown eyes that pulled you in. Nearly losing yourself in the way his bulky arms were clinging against his denim button up.

And then you made your assumption, finally feeling confident enough to guess an age. “38,” you said with finality in your voice.

“Good guess, but you’re wrong. I just turned 40,” he said with a smirk, leaning up against the side of the booth.

“Ahh. I was close enough,” you laughed quietly.

40 huh? The perfect age. Only 15 years older than you. And you were perfectly fine with that. You were always attracted to the older men. The way they were more experienced, knew what they wanted, were more confident, sophisticated, protective, handsome…

“That don’t bother ya now, does it? That I’m a little older?” he asked with concern flashing in his dark eyes.

“Not at all,” you said with a laugh, giving him your best smile.

“Good,” he stated, relaxing his shoulders at the answer.

You twirled your fork around a lone noodle, getting up the courage to ask your next question. You peered back up at him and asked before you lost your nerve. “You’re not seeing anyone…are you?” you asked with a nervous stutter.

“Now if I was seein’ anyone, would I be taking ya to dinner?” he asked with a raised brow, a mischievous look playing at his features. Making you gulp at the way he was looking at you.

Taking you out? Was this a date? Holy…

“Oh, I mean…I wasn’t sure. You’re uhhh…you just seemed like the type of guy to have someone is all,” you shrugged, cursing yourself for being a blubbering mess around him.

He laughed at your response, apparently finding you humorous by the way you were talking. “No, I’m not seein’ anyone. Haven’t had anyone in years,” he replied factually.

“Why not?” you asked timidly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Guess I just didn’t find the right one,” he said matter of factly. But he was looking at you with such intensity that maybe he was insinuating that someone could be you. You gulped at the thought, your eyes going wide as you recomposed yourself.

“And yourself? Seein’ anyone?” he asked with a fixed gaze, twinging his lip as he waited for a response.

“No. Can’t say that I am.” You wanted to tell him that you were seeing someone. And that someone was him.

“A beautiful girl like you isn’t seein’ anyone? I see the way guys look at you. You could have anyone,” he stated, dropping his hand against the table, just slightly brushing against the outside of your hand, sending fire along your skin.

You laughed nervously and shook your head. “Guys don’t look at me like that.”

“Really? Cause I’m lookin’ at ya like that.”

You froze as his eyes flicked down to your lips and back into your eyes, fixing his stare on you. You swallowed trepidatiously and stared back at his burning gaze. Making you want to melt into those simmering eyes. He was the only man that mattered. The only one you wanted attention from. And you had his attention now.

The two of you continued dinner with flirtatious smiles and small talk about mutual hobbies and life in general. You probably stayed there for two hours, just losing yourself in conversation. When the waiter had come back, Joel paid for the check like the gentleman he was. You offered him some money to pay for your portion, but he declined. Saying a lady should never pay for her own meal.

He walked you back to your apartment which was only a couple of blocks from the theater. Joel walked on the outskirts of the curb, making sure you weren’t the closest one to the crowded street. He gently put his hand on the small of your back which sent goosebumps down the whole proximity of your arms, guiding you along back to your place.

The casual conversation continued as you carelessly let yourself relax around him. Fawning over how easy it was to talk to him. He told you about some of his goals in life, what he wanted to accomplish in the next five years and even told you about his daughter. Sarah was her name and she had just turned 18, just starting her first semester at Harvard which was impressive in itself. You should’ve known he was a parent. The way he was so overprotective should’ve said it all. Maybe you’d meet her one day. Assuming this was going in the way you wanted it to.

You finally made it to the dark blue front door of your apartment, stopping just before putting your hand on the handle and turning around to face Joel. “Thank you for today. Not just for the food. But also for defending me back at the theater.”

Joel looked carefully at you, a slight twinge in his upper lip as he moved a lock of hair behind your ear delicately. You leaned into his touch as his fingers trailed along your cheek, keeping his eyes fixed on you.

“It was nothing I wouldn’t do anything,” he said nonchalantly stepping even closer to you, crowding your space. You concentrated on keeping your breathing normal as your pulse picked up, alarming you of why he might be coming closer.

Was he going to kiss you?

He flicked his eyes over you languidly, stopping just short of where your lips curled up in a smile.

Oh my God, just do it already. Please. You were begging.

You bit your lip discreetly to stop the nerves that were racing through you. You counted to three in your head, trying to stop the pounding thoughts that were swirling through your head. Come on, Joel. Do it.

He looked like he was about to lean in, but instead he trailed his eyes back up to yours and gave you a tight smile. “Go get some rest, sunshine. I’ll see ya tomorrow.” He grazed his fingers underneath your chin and then turned to head back to his place. Leaving you with disappointment written all over your face.

You leaned your head back against the door and groaned. So close. He was so close. But that wasn’t enough. Not even close. You sighed and turned to unlock your door, stepping into the empty apartment that felt somewhat hollow now. You threw your keys against the kitchen counter and decided to get ready for bed. Pushing away the disappointment that was eating you alive.

That night you tossed and turned against your sheets, trying to get him out of your head, but it was no use. He was stuck like glue, a sticky substance that you couldn’t ever get rid of. When you finally got to sleep hours later, you dreamed of dark eyes and calloused hands encompassing you slowly.

The next day at the theater was different. Pierre didn’t do anything to make you mess up in practice. You got through every dance with him unscathed. You guessed Joel really got under his skin. Carlotta still made you run through the routines more than once, but it was tolerable. As long as Pierre wasn’t making you suffer, it’d be fine.

After getting done with one of your routines, you made your way to the side of the stage behind the crimson curtain so you could wait for your next dance. Taking a small rest between dances since you were not in this particular one.

As you rounded the corner, you came to a halt. There he was. The man with the tousled salt and pepper hair and broad shoulders stood feet from you. He was busy fixing up a broken board on one of the props for the show, using his rough hands to manhandle the jagged edges. Flexing his thick fingers around the wood, making his veins fully display across his massive arms.

You were biting your lip while you watched, pretending that it was your hips he was holding down and not the broken prop. He looked up from what he was working on and found your eyes, smiling gently with that sideways smirk you couldn’t get enough of.

He dropped what he was doing and put his full attention on you, taking a few steps in your direction. “Hi, sunshine,” he said in a low voice, making your insides quake against the sound.

“Hi,” you whispered, suddenly more nervous that you had ever been around him.

He trailed his eyes over your body, going from your tight swan bodice, down to your flowing, short see through skirt and over your white stockings that clung to your toned legs, ending at the polished, shiny ballet pointe shoes.

“You look nice today. That one of your costumes for the show?” he asked as he peered back up at you, taking another step towards you.

“Thanks, it’s part of Act 1, one of my main pieces,” you said nervously as you brushed back a flyaway strand of hair.

“Sure looks good on ya. Brings out the color of your eyes.”

Brings out of the color of your eyes? Okay, Cassanova. Keep talking.

“You think so?”

“Mhm,” he groaned with a low hum coming from his throat, making your toes curl in your tight shoes.

“What else?” you asked curiously.

“What else what?” he asked questioning you with the cock of his thick eyebrow.

“What else do you like about the dress?” you asked quietly, mustering up every ounce of courage you had.

“Hmmm,” he hummed, looking over you once more. Those dark eyes eating you alive.

“I like the way it matches your complexion, how it fits you perfectly.” He took another step closer, causing you to take a step back in response.

“What else?” you asked, pushing the limits as far as you could.

This time he took two steps, his eyes growing darker. That honey color turning into black colored coffee. “The way it hugs your curves in jus’ the right places. How the sheer skirt falls short against your thighs.”

He reached out a hand and trailed his fingers lightly over your hip, down to the top of your thigh. Making you gasp as he backed you up against a post, covered up by the crimson side curtain.

He took one step closer, and his tan work boots were toe to toe with your pointe shoes. He couldn’t get any closer. Not really. Not unless he leaned into you.

Please, you practically begged. Touch me.

“Anything else?” you asked in a trance like state, voice barely audible over the music that was playing on the stage.

He reached a hand up and brushed his fingers over your jaw, trailing it down to your chin, lifting your head where it was level with his mouth, making you inaudibly gasp at how close you were.

He smirked down at you, a smoldering, devilish smirk that could make you fall to your knees. It was that powerful. He was that powerful. He ran a calloused finger against your skin, torturing you with how intense he was looking at you. Making you want to pull his mouth to yours with how big and soft they looked.

“I like how the back of it laces up, how easy it’d be to slide on and off. How absolutely gorgeous you are right now…”

Oh.

He placed a hand on your hip, flexing his fingers against the smooth material. You could feel the burn of his calloused fingers through your dress, straight over your skin that was alight with arousal.

His other hand lifted your chin higher as he leaned in and ghosted his lips over yours, not quite touching but barely grazing the surface. Able to feel just how soft they really were.

“How easy I could do this,” he whispered as he moved his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. So close. Almost fully contacting his lips. The tension was everywhere, encasing the air around you in a thick pool of arousal, fueling that chemistry, lighting a fire deep in your core.

“This what you want?” he asked with a low, raspy breath. That bedrooom voice returning in full force.

“Mhmm,” you moaned out, about to completely lose yourself in a pool of desire.

“Thought so,” he laughed, ghosting over you again, getting a hint of coffee breath from his mouth. Something you wanted to taste, drink down as you swallowed him whole.

“Joel…” you begged, grabbing a fistful of his plaid shirt, digging your fingers into him. Telling him exactly what you wanted.

“Sunshine,” he answered back with that low drawl, sending a wave of slick down your center.

He pulled your chin up again, this time not letting it fall. His pupils were blown out as his dark eyes stared at you, his eyes slowly going down to your lips, that primal desire flooding his features. Making you fucking feral for his touch. He trailed his thumb over your lower lip slowly, seductively. Teasing you in the best possible way.

He gazed into your eyes, so deep that you swore he could’ve seen right through you. Could’ve reached into your soul and taken every bit of you in that moment. And then he was moving his thumb down, leaving room for his own lips.

He flicked his eyes up to yours, asking you for approval before he put his lips on yours. You slowly nodded, giving him your full permission. A smoldering smirk ghosted over his mouth, and then he was leaning in, pulling at your hips and sinking you against his chest.

Before he could brush his lips against yours, you heard Carlotta scream in the auditorium. “Where is my swan? Get out here, you’re up! Hurry up now. We don’t have all day,” she yelled as her authoritative voice carried through the balcony, forcing Joel to stop in his tracks.

Damn it.

You internally groaned at how close Joel was, how close you were to getting exactly what you wanted. Until Carlotta ruined that moment completely.

“White swan!” she yelled again, this time her voice was more annoyed.

“Better go out there,” Joel whispered in a raspy voice. “They’re waiting,” he said quietly, still hooked around your hips, eyes devouring you.

You gulped and locked eyes with him. “You have to let me go first,” you said slowly, your breath coming out in waves.

“Oh. Right,” he said, fingers still digging into your side.

“Can someone please go find my swan? Time is being wasted!” she screamed at one of the other dancers, hearing their feet echo against the hard floor. Making you jump at the sound.

Joel slowly dropped his hand from you and took a step back, giving you room to breathe freely. Eyes still burning into you. Tempting you to go dance in the flames. You slowly backed up, drawing closer to the side opening to the stage, almost stepping into the light.

“Go knock ‘em dead, sunshine,” Joel whispered, making the floor feel like quicksand, threatening to take you under at any second.

You were still breathing heavy, eyes never leaving his, fingers flexing so hard against your skin you swore you were about to start feeling warm blood.

Once you stepped into the light Carlotta ripped into you. “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting!” She continued letting you have it, but you couldn’t hear her. Drowning out the distant screams to focus on the brooding man that stood feet away from you, still fixating his stare on you.

You turned and quickly apologized to Carlotta, getting into position to start your routine. Before the music started up, you turned your head slightly and peered up behind your long lashes, finding his gaze again.

And then the burn simmered over you. Scorching you alive.

There was nowhere to run or hide. Nowhere where you could kill the heat. It was too late. You were already consumed by the flames, doomed to incinerate to liquid. Branded by the man made of fire.

Part 3

[theholypeanut]

Otoya Eita x Forced Proximity

Peanut’s Wheel of Fortune Event

Cw: Otoya is a cw on its own, slight nsfw themes but no actual smut so 16+(voyeurism), suggestive, Otoya is taller than the reader, Yukimiya having a girl crush, gn!reader, 1,5 k words

Plot: You didn’t expect to get stuck in a closet with Otoya, and having to listen your friend getting handsy with his crush…

Event Masterlist

Otoya has been annoying you for a date since you started college. 

You had a couple of classes together, and even if you did not click with him right away, you and Yukimiya (one of his closest high school friends he went to college with) vibed very well. Unfortunately in your second year, you and Kenyu had fewer classes together, and instead you had to spend almost every day with Otoya Eita. And even worse he took it as a sign from god that he has a chance with you.

At first, you were absolutely not interested in any interactions with him, as he constantly tried to use the most obnoxious pickup lines on you. As time went on and you were forced into the same places together, you found out that he could actually be quite funny too. Even better, he was an amazing gossip buddy - you could always count on him to have the spiciest pieces of information on campus, and you tried not to be any worse. After a while, you could say that you kind of considered him a friend, just a very… flirty one. 

Because you ended up in a similar group of friends, you were also going to parties together. 

For the past months with Eita you’ve been trying to get Kenyu together with this girl from his English literature classes, that he would never admit that he had a crush on. To be honest he never asked you for help, even more, he even told you specifically to „stay away and not try to stir anything” but both you and Otoya were not the type to listen to his suggestions. Like, what could be wrong? If he couldn’t get together with her till now, maybe he just needs a little help? What are friends for?

And you really tried to be the best wingmen he could think of. “Accidentally” asking him to go to places she was in, always ordering coffee from the cafe she worked at, especially during her shifts, invite her on their matches… nothing worked. Yukimiya was just so dense.

This time again, nothing went as planned. It was a Friday night and you went to this huge party thrown in a building looking like a villa. The vibe seemed good, and most importantly: The Crush was also there. But something just felt off.

First of all, Yukimiya for the first time ever was drinking. At the beginning seeing him with a red plastic cup made you and Eita send each other knowing glances. It was very suspicious, especially since Kenyu always joked that he is a „sober friend” who takes care of everyone. He was, in fact, a mom friend at his finest. 

You started to look around if maybe the Pretty Literature Girl is somewhere around, and she was indeed talking to some basketball jock in the corner of the room. You could almost hear her giggling from across the room. Otoya was fast to keep up and after exchanging some secret hand gestures, he came over to Kenyu. 

„You know, for me, it feels like tonight is the night” he said and patted his friend. „You should talk to her, as you are already a little tipsy”

„I'm not tipsy” Kenyu said defensively and looked in the direction of his crush. „I don’t think there's a point.” You fast step up to the conversation, and put an arm around your tall friend. 

„Look you will never know if you won't try! Maybe she just tries to make you jealous?”

In an answer, Yukimiya only sighed and drank all of the remaining alcohol in his cup in one sip. Seeing him so gloomy made you wonder if maybe this is the type of drunk he is going to be. You felt a hand on your arm and after looking around, you saw Otoya suggesting you to go upstairs to retrieve. It was very loud in the dancing area, so without trying to yell over the music, you left your sad friend and left with a white-haired up the stairs. 

It was a big house, and you had no idea who it belonged to (Maybe Reo, the rich kid?) but the upper area was full of doors. It was still quite loud in the corridor, so Otoya opened the door to, what looked like, one of the bedrooms. You followed him there and closed the door. 

„I don't think our plan will work today” you said and sighed. „Yukimiya looks like he will start crying and talking about his childhood traumas any moment, I’m actually kind of scared of what will happen if he keeps drinking”

„Yeah, it’s really not looking good for him” Otoya nodded. „I'm pretty sure he is also more drunk than us, which is an entirely different kind of issue. I don’t think I ever saw him drinking.”

You were about to answer, when you heard a familiar voice coming from outside the door. Was it…. Kenyu’s crush? You looked at Otoya in panic, and without thinking he grabbed your hand and pulled you inside the spacious closet in the room. 

Well, it looked spacious from the outside, when the two of you fit inside, you could feel Otoya’s entire body hugging your back. 

„Move!” You whispered to him, feeling a weird tingling in your stomach from the sudden closeness. He leaned closer to your ear and his breath was tickling your neck. 

„I can’t. Just wait, maybe they won’t…” and then you heard the door to the bedroom open and close. 

„I thought you’ll never talk to me tonight” you two heard the girl. 

„Well you looked really busy with that guy…” you couldn’t believe when you recognised familiar voice. 

„Mmmm, Kenyu, are you jealous?” She purred teasingly, in a way that even you blushed. 

„Maybe” you heard your friend teasing her back. You didn’t have to see anything to know the tension between this two was very high. The girl giggled, and you could hear a sound of a kiss. Your body tensed up. 

„You know I’m yours” she said so quietly you could barely hear. You felt Otoya’s hand touching your waist and you tried to turn your head to him without making any sound. „Are they…” you whispered as quietly as you could when the sound going from outside of the closet answered your question: there was a heavy making-out session going on right outside the closet door. 

You thought you could not get more uncomfortable until you heard the girl moaning your friend’s name. What made the situation even worse is that not only you were stuck to listen to your friend getting all steamy with his crush, but you also could feel Otoya’s getting more and more aroused, as you assumed feeling a sudden pressure around your ass. 

„I’m sorry” you heard him whimper in your ear, which sent a shiver down your spine. You heard another loud moan and Yukimiya’s groans, as you assume he was kissing her neck. Well, you couldn’t really be mad at Eita right now. You turned to look at him to say something, but as your faces were so close to each other you could feel his nose brushing your cheek, you heard a sudden noise of an opening door. 

„Oooh fuck!” You heard some male voice from outside. „Sorry, I was looking for a bathroom…” 

The sudden noise made you jump and for a split second, you could feel Otoya’s lips on yours, before you turned back to face the door. From the sound of it you felt like Yukimiya and his situationship decided to stop after the sudden entrance. The door closed again and you heard Kenyu clearing his throat. 

„How about we get out of here?” He suggested. „I will just text my friends I’m too drunk and that I ordered the taxi home…” The girl giggled. 

„I don't know why you won't just tell them that we are dating” she answered. You heard Yukimiya sigh and with your imagination you knew he was massaging his temples with annoyance. „They are just so noisy and dramatic… I will tell them, one day” 

After that, the only sound going out of the room was the door opening and closing. You waited a couple of seconds, to be sure they wouldn't be coming back, and then you opened the door and walked out of the closet. 

There was an awkward silence between you two, as you felt too embarrassed to address what would have happened if both you and Yukimiya hadn’t been interrupted. 

Otoya cleared his throat. 

„I cannot believe he was keeping it a secret saying we are annoying” You smirked with relief after this comment. 

„I cannot believe Yukimiya almost hooked up with someone at a party… without closing the door.”

The atmosphere felt a little less tense. 

„I think we should leave this room before someone will think that we are here for…” you didn’t end the sentence, a little embarrassed. You saw Eita blushing before he looked away.

„Yeah right. Wouldn’t want to be cockblocked like that…” As you put your hand on the doorknob, you felt Otoya standing right behind you, as he put his forearm on the door right above your head. 

„We would at least close the door on a lock, right?” He said right to your ear.

You stood there for a second, feeling your heart speeding up to a dangerous pace. Your face felt hot when you turned the lock on the door. 

„…Right”

Bonus

[colourme-feral]

Thoughts on Love in the Big City THE MOVIE

I saw LITBC today and here are some of my spoilery thoughts on it under the cut. I have a bad memory, so I don't remember a lot of the book, which I'm rereading now to refresh my memory before the show.

It's not the same story from the book. Some of the bigger plot points do appear, but in essence, I didn't think it's what the plot of the book was like. Essentially, the beginning and end are the same, but the journey there isn't the same despite some familiar points

I didn't hate it as a movie, but it wasn't the story in the book

Yes, there is no Kylie or the urology incident, which Heung Soo fears is an STD

The movie essentially makes both Heung Soo and Jae Hee leads

It's a sanitised take on the Jae Hee chapter of Heung Soo's life, so it does feel very much like it's a movie with a gay lead, not a queer movie if that makes sense. It feels like the platonic love story of two best friends and their lives

The movie feels a lot more upbeat and comedic than the book did, ending on a fairly positive open ending for the pair's friendship and both leads are a lot less cynical than they were in the book

In the book, both leads are huge partiers who also sleep around without much care, but the movie only really focused on them partying, which I thought was the movie playing it safe because it feels like it's trying to appeal to a more mainstream audience

In the book, the two of them are unapologetic about how they live their lives, but in the movie, both characters are given scenes questioning the societal expectations of each of them

Movie Heung Soo is trapped by his fear of being outed and this is a huge point of conflict with his love interest, whom I think is a movie only character, because his love interest open about it and wants to come out to his parents, unlike Heung Soo

Movie Jae Hee has an abortion, which is caused by a one night stand, caused by her possibly getting drugged at a club while waiting for Heung Soo and when she's shouted at in the abortion clinic, she runs out and cries to Heung Soo about the frustrations of judgement on her

Movie Heung Soo's mother doesn't have cancer. While she is still very religious, he isn't sent to the psychiatric hospital

For @callipigio, your nephew, Kwak Dong Yeon plays one of Jae Hee's hook ups who gave off mummy's boy vibes

And next week, hopefully, I shall be watching some durian throwing action in The Thai Durian Show

[horizon-verizon]

Alicent is such a pussy ass bitch, “the beacon burns green when House Hightower calls their banner to war,” she wore a green dress to Rhaenyra’s wedding to signal her allegiance to her house over her husband’s and as a call to arms, and since then, she wore GREEN EVERYDAY, but now that the war that she’s been instigating for 16 years pops off, she suddenly wants to wear blue, fuck off to the forest, and pretend like it’s not what she wanted. I truly can’t stand her mosquitamuerta ass.

"mosquitamuerta" -- I searched it up, means someone who 's doing something shady but makes themselves look innocent and not responsible for it.

Yeah, that's my other issue with Alicent. I have said several times how the green dress moment made no sense for several reasons[twitter, this one more about how she would never have chosen that particular dress], Alicent of episodes 6-7 show a "warring" Alicent. It's not just that she would never choose to wear that dress and not for the color, but it's that the writers nullified Alicent's whole arc of her becoming a true direct and rounded threat towards the blacks when we get to the 8th episode.

Or maybe they were forced to nullify it and make nothing of it after episode 7 bc they erroneously positioned the conservative "rebel". Or that it inevitably fell apart.

There is a huge difference b/t bk!Rhaenyra wearing her black dress in clear, broadcasted self-affirming defiance to the woman who is trying to get her removed from her position using her gender against her VS show!Alicent "rebelling" because Rhaenyra refused to endanger herself and tell the truth about her, Cole, & Daemon. Rhaenyra was not complying to those sexist calls made by both fans AND those who had to have been at court & went closer to the queen's party for her to just give up. This is itself a knock against patriarchy.

Whereas with show!Alicent--though yes she is clearly trying to convey she won't try to fit herself into the Targaryen family, work for the royal family's interests more, make herself more "Targ"--it is also true that she ends up still trying to genuinely [key word] trying to make Viserys comfortable, make herself his perfect wife, follow what she thinks was his wishes (and I'm talking about before he died and after episode 5), etc.. She, unlike red-black-dress-bk!Rhaenyra, is still sincerely trying to abide by the patriarchal feudal status quo's principles of wifely obedience/solicitation to punch down on Rhaenyra, the "rebel". Thus, yeah, Alicent's green dress moment just transitions into the downward spiral she vaults herself on.

It would have made way more sense for Alicent to confront Otto, the person who actually ruined her life by pimping her out to Viserys. No, she is in a repressed delusion and probably would never, but that's exactly my point--this moment is supposed to be a clarifying moment where we the viewer/reader see who has been the victim, who the harasser, who the protagonist, who the antagonist, who the beleaguered, who the harasser. Giving that to the woman who will unfairly abuse Rhaenyra for basically not complying with an abusive system as perfectly as she should is self defeating, opposite of what this story is about, and discourages female self assertion through a distortion and using a token woman to do that job for you. Look, it's a woman doing this, and a terribly abused woman, too, she has to be right! Rhaenyra is the one who should have "done her duty" and not lie to Alicent! Meanwhile, Alicent's father is trying to get Rhaenyra removed and Alicent, back in episode 3, did not tell Rhaenyra that Otto is basically forcing her to visit Viserys and become his wife. No, Alicent was telling her to not mind the political plots of the men, or mind men's business when Rhaenyra is heir (and must concern herself w/politics!) AND Otto is one of those Rhaenyra has to watch out for but Alicent is actively preventing her from doing so!! And not even purposefully, which does not make her impressive, but sad. Which isn't fun and a total downgrade from her orig self.

...Plus, Rhaenyra of the show didn't even understand wtf Alicent was doing with the green dress bc on her end she still thinks Alicent doesn't know bc Alicent has not let anyone know what Cole said to her...by contrast, it is likely that bk!Alicent understood Rhaenyra's message in her wearing the black dress at her anniversary.

That moment of episode 5 was peak gaslighting, male gaze, & manipulation.

[hannieehaee]

DOES HE KNOW ? (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: after being friends with lee chan for a good portion of your life, the boy you considered nothing but your best friend suddenly starts acting different, making you slowly fall for him. problem is, you have a boyfriend.

content: friends2lovers!chan, reader has a bf, almost cheating but not actually, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), wet dream (this is actually a huge point in the plot lol), masturbation (f receiving), dry humping, more oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 1k (teaser); 9.8k (full fic)

release date: april 17th

or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!

a/n: rewrote this so many times but finally finished it!! i love writing channie so i hope u guys enjoy<3

masterlist

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Something was clearly wrong with you.

Was Lee Chan hot?

Nothing made sense anymore, and it had been the case for a while.

You could date it back to some months ago, at one of Soonyoung's usual gatherings. This had been where it all began, or more so, where it all ended.

For some reason unknown to man, that was the day in which Chan began courting you (his words, not yours).

After years of a solid friendship between the two of you, a not-so tipsy Chan cornered you at aforementioned party and began dancing with you. This was a common occurrence between the two of you. Despite having been taken for the past few months, you were still quite liberal about your touchy relationship with your best friend. However, what happened next what was truly out of the ordinary.

"Hey," he had whispered against your ear.

"Yeah?", you giggled, entertained by the boy.

"Wanna know a secret?"

"Sure."

"I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you," and with that, the dam had broken.

You froze against his arms, eyes widening. Though he could not see, as you were holding each other far too close to make eye contact.

Maybe he was drunk?

He interrupted you before you could respond. Chan pulled away from you to look into your eyes with a fully sober look in his face.

"I'm not drunk, and I know you have a boyfriend. And I know you only see me as a friend. But give me a few weeks, and I'll change both those things," was the last thing he said before giving you a peck on the cheek (yet another common thing in your relationship) and walking away with a confident sway in his step.

Ever since then, you had been bombarded by romantic gestures from your former best friend – former because you truly had no idea how you felt about him by this point.

Chan bought you flowers, – even when it was raining – had your favorite beverage at hand any time you so happened to see him, tied your shoelaces should they ever come undone, plucked loose eyelashes from your cheeks, tucked your hair behind your ear, placed his hand at the small of your back before crossing a street, walked you to and from home, looked at you with an indescribable sweetness in his eye, he ... He did everything any girl would need to be completely swooned (and then some).

You were beyond confused as to when this change had come about. As far as you knew, you were nothing more than best friends. When had Chan even begun liking you? What had changed?

"Oh. He's always had a thing for you," was what your mutual friend Soonyoung said when you first brought it up.

"What do you mean? We've been friends for years, he's never-"

"Yeah, duh. You never showed interest, what was he supposed to do? But yeah, he's crazy about you," added Seungkwan, sipping his drink nonchalantly.

You had decided to meet up with some of your mutual friends while Chan was at work. You needed at least five minutes with your other friends without Chan getting in the way with his flirting.

"It's kinda sick, actually," interjected Soonyoung once more.

You remained quiet for a while, thinking back to every interaction you'd ever had with Chan that may have revealed his feelings for you. Unfortunately, you kept drawing blanks all the while Soonyoung stole fries from your plate, disregarding your confusion at the situation.

"But why now?", you finally asked, slapping his meddling hand away from your food.

He shrugged, "Maybe he got fed up of watching you with that guy."

"He has a name, Soonyou-"

"None of us really care enough to learn it."

That much was true. None of your friends were fans of your current boyfriend. Or of any of them, to be quite frank. You had certain lack of skill at picking them, though this time around you felt confident about your current relationship. He was nice and respectful. Maybe a little bit of a square, but you liked to think you brought out the fun in him. This was also the longest relationship you'd ever had, giving you the grand total of three months in a exclusive relationship and a month and a half of a very prolonged talking stage that took place before he ever asked you out officially.

"Is this because I've been taken for longer than usual?", you tried to assert.

"Oh! That might be it, huh?", Soonyoung agreed.

"Well, I guess he didn't want you to break your streak of failed relationships," chuckled Kwan.

With a slap to his chest, you dropped the subject, deciding to ignore the slight acceleration of your heart any time you thought about Chan's crush for too long.

At first you found it to be a bit of a joke, but his affections quickly began to wear you down. It also didn't help how blatant he was about it, constantly flirting up a storm around your friends, not caring for their amused smiles at your flustered half-rejections of his advances. The only times in which he held back were the rare occasions in which your boyfriend would join your friend group in their outings. He could be reserved at times, not really clicking with your loud friends, so his presence was not a common thing.

Being honest, you felt kind of bad at the genuine excitement Chan's crush gave you. Though you weren't sure of your feelings for him at this point, his interest flustered you tremendously. You'd always known him as a pretty and charming guy, despite never really acknowledging such things. You understood why he got so much attention from girls, though you never thought too much of it. He was your best friend, you never had any motive to consider anything further than platonic feelings for him. But now that you were questioning your feelings, you felt as if you were kind of betraying your boyfriend.

Not to misunderstand, you had no desire of pursuing anything with anyone while you were in a committed relationship. You were just not that kind of person. But the mere thought of blushing at the words of a guy who wasn't yours (all while actually having a guy of your own) made you feel ashamed. Specially considering that you already had a very grand preexisting fondness for the guy in question.

God damn you, Lee Chan.

...

read today on ko-fi or patreon by subscribing to either one<3

[dailyadventureprompts]

What’s fasinating about the d&d movie is that it is all the fun of d&d removed from the rigid restraints of the the clunky game system: Thrills and laughs and hairbrained schemes minus the minutia of needless rolls or waiting for your turn in initiative to circle around. Part of this is idealization, but as someone who’s obsessed with making my favorite game system the most fun possible I can’t help but draw some comparisons.

Combat: Holga’s fight scenes were a highlight of the film for me, displaying a huge amount of kinetic creativity as she pinballed between different combatants swapping out weapons, bouncing off the surrounding terrain . This is a far, far cry from how being a fighter plays out at the table, as most martial characters are focused into doing just one type of attack as good as they can because it’s their only reliable contribution to combat. Try to model Holga’s fights in game and you’d be caught in a boring slog of dealing 1d4+STR damage to a bunch of guards whittling away at their hitpoint pools, a far cry from the lighting quick flury of smashing, bashing, and flips that make her the film’s action setpiece.  

What d&d needs is a system for combat that exists alongside the traditional damage/HP paradigm: an additional layer of complexity for martial characters that encourages tactical thinking and lets those who do their damage up close feel just as cool and as clutch as casters. My mind’s already whirling thinking up something that revolves around stuns, suckerpunches, and positioning, so expect it later this week. 

Powercreep: This might be subjective but I find it fascinating that the official stats put out for the party has them hovering around level 16, a point in character progression  a)that  most characters never get to b) by which the game’s difficulty systems have begun to break down. I suspect this was done in order to keep their on-screen abilities in line with how they are in the base rules, but I can’t help but feel like its odd for the “idedalized” dnd experiance to be playing around with toys that most groups will never get their hands on. 

In my experience d&d is on a sliding scale of stakes V Shenanigans, with the exact ballance evolving over the course of a campaign:  Your group starts out as a bunch of dumbfucks and at some point while you’re making  making absolute fools out of yourselves you become a found family just in time for the consequences of your actions to circle back around and threaten the realm. First the characters start caring about eachother, then they care about the world, then they have to save that world. Level 16 is, for me, distinctly in “save the world” territory, despite the fact that the HaT crew are clearly still figuring out who they are and what they care about.  It makes me wish D&D was more free with its shenanigan enabling magic/items/class features at lower levels to help fuel these kinds of antics.  

Attunement: Perhaps the best “ oh I’m totally going to steal this” moment came from Simon’s attempt to attune to the helm of disjunction. Turning what was otherwise a rote game mechanic into an oppertunity for character growth was genius on behalf of the writers, though one I’d only really employ with items that were as necessary for my plots as the helm was for the heist. Just like Simon’s major flaw was self doubt, I could easily see delicious storytelling potential in throwing up other emotional hurdles depending on the situation: A hero’s sword refusing to attune to the haunted survivor until they’ve come to terms with what they’ve done, an otherwise altruistic character being forced to admit their sin and self interest by an evil-aligned artifact. 

Over all, I really enjoyed the movie, though paradoxically It didn’t hook me as much because for me one of the biggest charms of fantasy is the feeling of discoverying a new world, and I’ve been living the d&d world for the past 20 years so it didn’t come of as wild and magical as it could have been, having hewn so close to established d&d material. 

[nostalgebraist]

Here are some fun / amusing / potentially-interesting facts about the process of writing and plotting Almost Nowhere, if anyone's curious.

Major spoilers for the whole of Almost Nowhere under the cut.

(There's really no way to spoiler-censor this material without rendering it incomprehensible. If you haven't read the book, do that first before reading this post.)

(1)

A large fraction of the book's eventual plot emerged from my attempts to patch a single, in-some-sense trivial continuity error I made while writing the very first chapter.

The Mooncrash section of that chapter ends with this sentence (emphasis added):

All parties were used to stillness, now, for the Mooncrash was nearly four years old.

And a few paragraphs later, in the opening of the Academy section, we get this (emphasis added again):

For (as everyone knows) the Shroud is upon us and while it tolerates the Academy — as it presently is, as it has been for the last eight years, a chrysalis, preparing itself step by minuscule step [...]

So: The Mooncrash is 4 years old. The Academy crash is at least 8 years old, and indeed older.

Yet the Mooncrash is also as old as the crash system itself! It was made by humans, during the period between the discovery of the anomalings and the mass-crashing of the human race. (This is only shown in the second chapter, but I had it in mind before then.)

How long has the human race been crashed, then? At most 4 years, and at least 8 years? How could that possibly be?

It would have been easy enough to just edit the chapter, but that's not how I do things. Restrictions, famously, breed creativity. I enjoy attempting to solve puzzles I have inadvertently created for myself, and many of my best ideas have been produced through this process.

It would also have been simple and easy to merely say: "OK, I guess time elapses at different subjective rates, in different crashes."

Amusingly, I ended up doing that anyway! But for some reason, this avenue didn't occur to me at first. By the time I started asking myself whether to include this kind of effect, I already had a different solution in mind.

I spent a lot of time beating my head against the figurative wall, trying to resolve the 4-vs-8-year issue. The early parts of my AN notes are full of this stuff.

----

At some early point, I came up with the idea that the anomalings/shades would deal with troublesome crashes by "rebasing" them, rewriting their histories.

I didn't intend, initially, for this idea to take over the plot as much as it eventually did. It was just a fun idea that underscored the huge power differential between the anomalings and their captives, and felt in line with the Cartesian/Wachowskian themes of transcending a "fake"/illusory world, radically doubting one's own perceptions and memories, etc.

But, having stipulated that "rebases" were a thing, I hit upon the idea that they could be used to modify the total quantity of past (subjective) time inside a crash -- turning 8 years into 4, or vice versa, or whatever.

So, I could fix the problem by stipulating that one -- or both -- of the problematic crashes had already been rebased, in this way.

But why? And by whom?

----

Now, at this early stage, I also had the idea in mind that the character "Anne" would eventually escape from her crash, and that she would have a hand in various major events in the story -- including some events that had already occurred, relative to the "present" of the textual PoV.

But I didn't know, yet, what these interventions actually were.

(I put "Anne" in quotes, here, because in the very early stages I casually assumed that only the PoV Anne introduced in Chapter 1 would be a major character, and that her sisters were merely background material for her personal narrative, like the tower itself. Of course, in the process of thinking through the details of things, I realized that this assumption was needless and indeed counterproductive.)

As often happens when I'm plotting a story, I found that two unknowns slotted neatly into one another, each one providing a potential solution to the problem posed by the other.

We need something for "Anne" to do in the past. Something consequential, something that shows off her newfound agency -- but also something that obscures her role from view. Ideally, something kind of weird, esoteric, "advanced"; something that feels buried inside the deep, dark center of the backstory, which the reader will only "excavate" at the end of a long, strange journey.

And we need someone to rebase the Mooncrash.

That answers the "who?" question. But again -- why?

Well, it was already in the plan that Azad would join forces with Michael, when Michael went in search of his lost Anne. That Anne would meet Azad, as a result, and that it would be Azad who persuades her to return to Michael's crash.

I didn't, at the time, have much else planned for the Anne-Azad connection.

As originally conceived, the "Azad convinces Anne to return" scene was about Azad's uncertain loyalties, and about Anne's lack of exposure to other human beings (and to the power of words, as deployed by human beings with access to real human culture). That is, it merely served specific, separate purposes in the sub-stories of these two characters. There was no intent to set up, or develop, a thread connecting these sub-stories, making Azad a major character in Anne's arc and vice versa.

But that seems like kind of a shame, doesn't it? Why go to the trouble of preparing these characters, and bringing them into contact, if I didn't have anything for them to do together?

Anne and Azad.

We need someone to rebase the Mooncrash.

We need Anne to learn about real human culture, somehow, before she leaves. I knew that, already, though I didn't have a mechanism in mind.

(I also knew, by this point, that causing Azad's appointment as translator was another one of "Anne's" consequential moves. I had conceived of this, at first, as a relatively impersonal act, done only for its historical significance. Indeed, that would have been enough -- but the more the merrier, theme/motivation-wise.)

Problems paired up, interlocked, and became each others' solutions.

(1b)

As is obvious from the above, I didn't have the scenario planned out in very much detail when I wrote the first chapter.

At the time, the story had been gestating in my head for a while, but only as a bunch of vague inklings and intentions.

The proximate cause of writing-the-first-chapter was a sudden and unexpected burst of inspiration. I was riding the bus to a social event, and suddenly my mind was awash with crisp, never-before-glimpsed details about Anne and her tower, the Mooncrash, the Academy, Cordelia's blue dress -- all the stuff of Chapter 1. It felt like a crucial message was being beamed into my brain, VALIS-style, from the Muse / Higher Power.

I had an urge to bail on the social event, turn around, ride back home, and start writing immediately -- what if the magic went away, as suddenly as it had arrived? I resisted that urge and made a perfunctory appearance at the event, but then went back home and wrote as much as I could before falling asleep.

So, when I was writing that chapter, stuff like "four years" and "eight years" wasn't based on any single coherent picture, just vibes and vague inklings.

(I think 4 years probably sounded like the right amount of time for G&A to have been in the Mooncrash, character-wise. Meanwhile, Hector's ascension from the Academy had to be long enough ago that there would be no direct overlap between Hector and any of the current students. The "Bad Old Days" had to feel like something you'd only hear about in rumors, or from authority figures who probably weren't telling the full story.)

(2)

Like TNC before it, Almost Nowhere was originally conceived as relatively simple and straightforward story, only to become something much weirder and more complicated as I fleshed out the details.

As I said above, I only had a very vague "plan" at the outset of the writing process. But I kinda knew where I was going with it, in very broad strokes.

The original arc, insofar as it existed at all, was something like:

The bilateral / anomaling tension is introduced.

The bilateral PoV characters come to an understanding of their situation.

Many of the bilateral PoV characters join up with Hector Stein, who is already trying to defeat the anomalings and free humanity from the crashes.

Azad temporarily sides with the anomalings, and Anne temporarily returns to her captive state. But both them "come around" eventually.

Anne eventually triumphs over Michael, delivers a dramatic monologue castigating him for imprisoning her (etc.), and mounts a successful escape.

Shortly after Anne's escape, some (TBD!) resolution to the main conflict is achieved. Whatever it is, it is proposed/spearheaded by the bilateral faction (and specifically Anne herself), and it somehow exemplifies "the bilateral way of thinking/being."

The humbled anomalings conclude that "the bilateral way of thinking/being" has its advantages, both practically and morally.

So the story, as originally conceived, was much more straightforwardly about the "good" PoV humans fighting back against aliens.

It unabashedly took the bilateral side in the conflict, and it ended with a "beauty of our weapons" sort of moment in which the bilaterals are both victorious and righteous, and in which these two kinds of success are closely linked and almost merged.

I have to imagine that, even in counterfactual worlds where some things went differently, I never would have stuck to this version of the story all the way through.

Because, one way or the other, I would have eventually realized that.. like... this version of the story kind of sucks, right?

I mean, why go to the trouble of introducing these aliens, and trying to make them interesting, only to say "nah, actually these guys were just wrong, it's us and our existing 'ordinary' pre-conceptions that are right, and that's what the story was about all along"?

It would have been "inventing a guy to be mad at," as the saying goes.

Not a great foundation for a story. And the least interesting possible direction to go in, given this kind of setup.

It also presents a seemingly unresolvable tension, for the writer, about how to portray the distinctively "bilateral" nature of the bilateral side in the conflict.

If "bilateral" is as broad a category as the anomalings say it is -- if you and I and all of us, whatever other qualities we possess, participate equally in this sin -- then it's hard to strike a note of emotional triumph around the quality of "bilaterality" that doesn't feel wrong, vacuous, or bloodlessly abstract.

"Woo, yeah, humans are great!" I mean, are they? All of them? You don't get to say "well, only the good ones," here, or "in their ideals if not always their acts," or anything like that. Everyone is included in the relevant category, except for the guys-who-aren't that were invented for this specific story.

It's difficult to make this land properly, in the same way it would be difficult to write a story that inspires "carbon-based life pride" or "having-DNA pride" or the like in its reader.

So this version of the story was dead on arrival. And indeed, by the time I was thinking through the stuff chronicled in (1) above, this version of the story felt like a provisional placeholder, at best, in my mind.

Nonetheless, there are various echoes of it in the story I eventually landed on.

For example, in the original version of "Anne's" escape -- conceived in a much more straightforwardly positive way -- I had Anne reading "real" books in secret, drawing moral strength from them, and then including a bunch of literary quotes in her big dramatic monologue to Michael. (I took inspiration, here, from John the Savage reading Shakespeare in Brave New World.)

And I had the idea that "Anne," being an autodidact, would read omnivorously without making culture-bound distinctions familiar to you and me; that her selection of quotes, in the monologue, would put low culture alongside high culture, infamous books alongside famous ones, etc.; and as a particular case, that it'd be fun if -- before going on to quote Shakespeare and co. -- she began the whole thing by quoting Ayn Rand.

And that one idea stuck, even if the rest of it didn't.

(Or, consider how the idea of "a powerful move in the conflict that exemplifies the bilateral way of thinking/being" actually crops up multiple times in the finished story, right up to its last scenes. One can see traces of it in the "trick" that obsesses Michael, in the use of autobiographical writing to build up nostalgium, and in Annabel's improved crash design.)

(3)

I came up with the Mirzakhani Mechanism relatively late, in between writing Chapter 13 and writing Chapters 14-15 (in which the MM is introduced).

The MM was a product of looking back at the sci-fi elements that already existed in the story, like crashes and rebases, and trying to invent some single underlying explanation that covered all of them in a relatively parsimonious way.

This basically "worked," I think -- it certainly worked better than I had been expecting, after playing the dangerous game of "write a bunch of weird stuff and hope you'll be able to explain it all later." (I remember talking to one reader who was shocked that I hadn't had the MM in mind from the very beginning, which was flattering.)

It also had unintended consequences that kinda took over the story, but largely in a good way.

Earlier, I had planned to have the post-rebase crash timelines "screened off" from the outside world somehow, so that rebasing a crash wouldn't mess up the timeline of the outside world. But, once I'd fixed the idea that "rebasing is an MM event" in place, I realized that this wasn't consistent with the way MM events were meant to work. Instead, the exposition in Ch. 15 directly implies the stuff about rebases that Grant realizes much later in Ch. 41.

Once I'd noticed this, it was obvious that it was extremely important, and I re-incorporated it into the broader plot.

On a related note, I eventually decided that the account of the anomalings "going backward in time to our era" in Ch. 15 didn't really make sense. This meant I needed a different, more viable way anomalings and bilaterals to exist at the same point in time.

This line of thought, along with several others (like "what happened to all the nonhuman organisms?" and "which parts of the MM multiverse are real?"), eventually led me to invent Everywhere-Heaven and the beasts.

That happened right at the start of 2022, between Chapters 21 and 22.

It quickly became clear that the E-H/beasts stuff could be put to a lot of valuable use in story's third act, which was largely a worrying blank space in my head (even at this point!). From thereon out, I worked on fleshing out the third act behind the scenes while writing the second.

Not coincidentally, Chapter 22 contains a ton of E-H-related foreshadowing, and also some hints that human scientists (like Aidan in Ch. 15) had never fully understood the anomalings.

The use of Maryam Mirzakhani, a real (and recently deceased) mathematician, was a weird choice and arguably one in poor taste. All I can really say in defense of it is that it came to me suddenly, and had a number of properties that fit the vibe of the part of the story in which it appeared, and I have a policy of "going with my gut" when it suggests such things to me.

I felt similarly about this choice and another thing introduced in Ch. 15, the nuclear attack intended to kill scientists. Both of these things underscored the fact that the story took place in an alternate reality. And both felt sort of "edgy," "too dark," "too close to the real world" compared to the tone of the story so far. But I wanted to take the story to new places in the coming acts -- "darker," "more real" places -- and something felt right about introducing these elements at this exact point, as signposts providing an indication of where things were headed.

(4)

The phrase "NOWHERE TO HIDE" was originally "NO MERCY," in my notes.

And the abbreviation "NM" for "NO MERCY" was used throughout my notes for Nowhere-To-Hide related stuff, e.g. "NM Annes."

This wasn't the product of much thought, just the first thing that came to mind that had roughly the correct vibe. I almost immediately concluded that I'd have to replace "NO MERCY" with something else in the work itself, since it would seem like an Undertale reference that I didn't intend to make.

"Moon" was originally just a placeholder name -- a shorthand for "the 'NM Anne' who rebased the Mooncrash." But I liked the idea of actually using it, once it had occurred to me.

The corresponding placeholder name for A11 was "Ling," as in "linguist" (but also an actual name).

(5)

I went through 3 different outlines of the third act.

Really, there was a first outline, which was really bad, and then there were two slightly-different versions of a very different outline that mostly corresponds to the finished draft.

The first, bad outline was amusingly titled "notes-satisfying-ending.txt", because I explicitly used this post about "satisfying endings" as a guideline while writing it.

(To be clear, I don't think the linked post was to blame for the badness of that first outline. I didn't ultimately find the post very helpful as writing advice, but the "satisfying ending" outline wasn't even a "satisfying ending" in the post's own terms, and was also bad in unrelated ways.)

I don't want to go into much detail about the bad outline. It was really bad, and also really different from what eventually occurred. It's honestly a pretty embarrassing document.

A lot of the key ideas were there (E-H, etc.), and the very end of the story was roughly the same. But it had a ton of needless flaws that I later corrected. Various existing character arcs and motivations were dropped and never picked up, or suddenly diverted in some new and unfruitful direction; way too much time was spent on getting characters and objects from point A to point B, or otherwise sort of rambling about in a way that didn't matter in the end; it included a lot of whimsical "fun ideas" that weren't necessary and would have added clutter to an already very full canvas; etc.

I never got to the point of building a chapter-by-chapter version of this outline, but I'm sure it would have much longer than the existing third act, also.

The existing third act is pretty long, but it was actually the result of an aggressive pruning and tightening process.

If the "satisfying-ending" outline had a single greatest flaw, it was terrible pacing. Lots of slack, lots of empty space, and when big things did happen, they came out of nowhere, not really prompted by what came immediately before them.

The next draft of the ending resulted from taking the raw materials of "satisfying-ending," purging all the dross, re-thinking all the obviously flawed stuff, and then trying to rearrange the pieces in front of me in a way that was maximally "tight" and interconnected, with questions and tensions introduced and then resolved in a rapid-fire manner, and without any major thread "sitting around in the background" long enough to feel stale, or get forgotten.

That outline was in a file called "notes-good-end.txt."

Much later, I tightened up the plan even further, merging some things that were originally in separate chapters. This was in a file called "notes-true-end.txt", and -- true to its name -- was the version reflected in the book itself.

So there was "satisfying-ending," which sucked; "good-end," which was good; and "true-end," which was slightly better.

(I realize the multiplicity of the ending, and the account of deliberate "tightening" etc., is in apparent tension with my recent account of working by direct inspiration.

There are a few things I can say about this tension.

For one, it really is true that the third act of AN was more deliberately reasoned-out, and less directly-inspired, than some of the earlier stuff. This is kind of inevitable: you don't get to do anything after an ending, that's what an ending is, and so you have to deliberately try to make the final act of a story fully work as a thing unto itself, rather than writing checks in the hope of cashing them at some later point.

And separately, I do think the final version of the ending feels "more real," "more true to the work" than the satisfying-ending draft.

I think I was aware, even while composing "satisfying-ending," that it felt off and wrong in some ways. But it was only after going through the exercise of creating a complete ending -- some sort of complete ending -- that I was able to look back and say "OK, this fits, but this doesn't fit," and distill something that actually felt right.)

[haikyu-mp4]

(closed) now hiring! event

To thank you all for this follower milestone, I want to write shorter fics where the reader works in a café and you can choose the love interest + what inspires the plot!!

1. Pick a character (preferably one per request)

2. Pick your first qualification (setting)

3. Pick a second qualification (plot point) depending on your first choice

As an example: "Applying with Bokuto, I am outgoing and flexible" will get you a drabble about closing up the café with your coworker Bokuto.

Another example: “Applying with Tendo, I am organised and a problem solver” will get you a drabble where Tendo is a regular at the cafe and finally finds a way to or the courage to ask you out.

Please limit adding extra details, as it will be easier for me to complete more requests if I have some creative freedom. Use the "make a wish!" button on my profile to let me know what you'd like to see me write.

For the option where you’re coworkers (outgoing), you can also ask for it to be suggestive (add * at the end). The baseline will still be fluffy, but making it suggestive means that the reader and the character already know the other party is interested and I might include some touching/smooching.

A huge thanks to the gamemaster herself @cottonlemonade who inspired this and helped me mould the ideas into reality<3

(if you have previously sent me other requests, those are still in my drafts, so do not worry. I just want to celebrate this milestone before I get back to those!)

[love-takes-work]

Hey I’ve been thinking a lot about fusions in Steven universe as a huge fan myself but I have one big problem with Stevonnie, and that’s how mature and icky alot of the plots with them are, for example all of kevin, Lars throw away sorta crush etc. I was just curious because I read your steg post and I found it really interesting and agreed with it!

I was just curious as someone who looks way more into the show what’s your take on the topic of stevonnie and how or why they differ so much from steg!

I don't think Lars was shown as a "throw away crush"--both he and Sadie had a dazzled reaction when Stevonnie walked into the donut shop, and it was Sadie who blushed and insisted the donuts were on the house. Not only Sadie and Lars but Sour Cream and everyone who saw them at the rave were enchanted with Stevonnie.

But if you were a little grossed out by the "maturity" of that episode, you'll be very happy to know that was intentional! When speaking about the episode's intent, Rebecca Sugar said it's about how it feels to suddenly find the world responding to you differently when you're going through puberty and you suddenly have an attractive/adult body and people are presenting you with opportunities you're not familiar with and not ready for. And treating you like you should like it when you hardly even know what it is. Expecting you to play a game when you don't know the rules. A quote of Rebecca's from an interview:

"Stevonnie challenges gender norms as an individual, but also serves as a metaphor for all the terrifying firsts in a first relationship, and what it feels like to hit puberty and suddenly find yourself with the body of an adult, how quickly that happens, how it feels to have a new power over people, or to suddenly find yourself objectified, all for seemingly no reason since you’re still just you… "

You see Stevonnie just kinda enjoying that Lars and Sadie don't recognize them and treat them like something incredible and special when Connie's never been cool and Steven's always been sort of tolerated or humored by the young adults in town. But then when Kevin enters the picture it's scary. "This dance isn't fun!" They had pictures in their head of how cool a dance party would be but the actual reality of it was super uncomfortable and unforeseen.

I remember reading a LOT of disturbed reactions to this episode on a message board from when it first came out. Some of the (straight) men said they just weren't used to being the POV character while being unwillingly objectified by a strange man in a club, and had never viscerally understood until this episode why that seemed SO creepy. And a lot of the women, on the other hand, recognized it from personal experience instantly. There are several scenes that have the viewer actually seeming to see what Stevonnie sees, including when Kevin is looking them up and down.

The episode is about some of the joy and terror of that experience, from the point of view of the experience.

Some folks have wondered why Stevonnie doesn't appear to have any duplicated limbs or eyes, especially after we found out from Steg that looking totally humanoid is not a side effect of being three quarters human. I think part of the reason they made that design choice is that Stevonnie was meant to be seen during their debut venture as a stunning, magnetic person, and if they'd looked alien at all we might have interpreted the stares and gasps as reactions to a weird sight instead of a gorgeous stranger. (And it's super nice to see them interpreted by guys and gals as attractive, though Kevin clearly sees them as a girl at first and addresses them as such.)

That said, maybe they have a duplication that doesn't show. I like to headcanon that they might have two hearts. <3

[hopelesromantc23]

Look, as a viewer, I am charmed by Francesca being bi or gay or queer, and that her (spoilers) future love interest is a woman. I think further lgbtq storylines are superb, and I love that her first romance is exhibited in this earlier season.

However, as someone whose favorite Bridgerton book is, indeed, Francesca’s, I’m mildly disappointed that we won’t have the heartache and pining of Michael having to assume John’s role as the presumptive heir and then Francesca’s decision to get back on the marriage mart be due to her desire to have a child. I just cannot (truly, my imagination must be limited) wrap my head around how they will achieve that storyline.

If you’re going to set a series based on high-society Regency England (and its delightful fantasy of racial cohesion and man-made fabrics with plastic sequins and no bonnets), alright, I can get on board for the fun of it and I’m a sucker for romance and happy endings (see username). But what makes historical romance so attractive (lol) are the societal conventions, the behavioral limitations, and the repressed feelings for the sake of class dynamics and all that goes with it.

Michael Stirling is, arguably, one of the best Bridgerton love interests. He is constant, loyal, and, granted, a charming and sexy reformed rake, BUT he behaves honorably. One of the lovely parts of their love story is his friendship with Francesca. And Michael loves his cousin and best friend, John, and (in never wanting to compromise or hurt John) he loves Francesca from afar from the evening he meets her at F & J’s engagement party. His heartbreak at John’s sudden passing and feelings of emotional impotence in helping Francesca grieve, and his huge reluctance to assume the title Earl of Kilmartin are major facets of the book.

I love that Francesca is queer-coded, I think that’s great, and I love the representation in the show. The only thing that bothers me is that she already had so much going on as a character - which is fine, people are multi-faceted. The showrunners made her neurodivergent (great), they gave her a single-target obsession (piano - love it), they gave her “I’m moving far away and I don’t want a big noisy family” (solid), and not to mention marrying a handsome Black man who is also quiet and thoughtful. All of this to say, of course she can be queer - but how does this serve her story?

I just don’t know how the producers will make Michaela conflicted about inheriting a historically-male role, burden and responsibilities, and having an heir when that was a huge facet of the book and has been a previous plot point in the show. That being said, the showrunners have done other interesting things, have been really thinking ahead, and so let’s see what they do. I look forward to it.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk, feel free to let me know what you think!

[princess-aeducan]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard Gameplay Reveal Thoughts

Okay for one thing, I am so happy to be making this post. Going from people voicing doubts about the game coming out at all to a Fall 2024 release window is so exciting. 10 years and it’s finally almost here.

-The game is absolutely gorgeous. I love the design of Minrathous, I love how gobsmackingly different it is from Ferelden. Dorian’s complaints from Inquisition all make sense now, and it’s fascinating to see a place that is not repressive of magic- the fact that it resembles sci-fi levels of tech but is all powered by magic is sooo fun and interesting to me. I also think it’ll be an interesting contrast to the more classic fantasy style locations we see at the ritual site and throughout the screenshots the developers have posted. It makes the world feel so much bigger, diverse, and more fleshed out.

-Unpopular opinion and I totally respect why others dislike it as it does look quite different, I’m actually looking forward to the combat. It honestly just looks more fun to me, as I tend to favor a more action/real time style anyway. That being said, I do dislike the 3 person party change for banter reasons and do think that’ll make it feel significantly less like classic Dragon Age. I feel like I’ll get used to it pretty fast, but it is a disappointment. Controlling companions isn’t mandatory for me but it was always nice to be able to try out all the classes, so that’s a loss as well, although one I’m less bothered by.

-I like the way the characters look, but do understand it could take a little bit of adjustment. Harding got a massive glow up, she looks gorgeous. So excited she’s a companion, and that we’ll have our first romanceable dwarf! Not a huge fan of the way Solas looks in this style, but I don’t feel particularly upset about it anyway. Not sure what it is. Varric looks great, but like many others, missing his ginger hair. All in all, less drastic changes to returning characters than we’ve seen in previous titles, I will never be over how much they butchered Alistair in Inquisition. I love the designs and vibes of the new companions, Neve is a fashion icon and sooo fits in with what Dorian has set up for us to expect from Tevinter. I can’t wait to meet Davrin in particular, because god I miss Grey Wardens.

-On that point: Factions have me maybe the most excited. I cannot wait to be a Grey Warden again, I’d been holding out hope! I liked that the faction was referenced in the gameplay reveal as well, and hope it’ll change small things throughout the game, at least through dialogue. Also will have to play as an Antivan Crow at some point. A bit sad this won’t include a playable prologue like Origins, but since DA2 and DAI I wasn’t expecting it. Just always something I’ll miss.

-A red flag for me is how little Rook was prompted to make dialogue choices. I hope that because this is simply the prologue and therefore focused on binary plot progression, that this will be different in more dialogue-driven sections, but it’s something to look out for and be wary of. I’m okay with Rook speaking on their own occasionally, but if that continues, I hope it’s at least like Hawke where there’s some variation based on personality.

-Also yes, excited about the return of the purple Hawke icon! The dialogue wheel in Inquisition felt more bland to me than in DA2, so if the wheel is what we’re stuck with, I’d rather it lean more to its DA2 execution.

-On narrative: I cannot BELIEVE the game just jumps into “let’s confront Solas RIGHT NOW!” I was not expecting so much plot from the gameplay reveal. I am very intrigued by what’s coming next with the evanuris, and what it will mean for Solas’ role in the story. I’m kind of obsessed with the fact that it begins with Rook fucking things up worse, I think that will be magnificent to explore for roleplay and the repercussions for Thedas will be massive. I know there were concerns about tone, but this gives me hope that we’ll have the fucked up shit Dragon Age is known for. “Just some guy who makes things worse” is a great start for a protagonist, and reminds me of DA2 in some respects.

-My brainrot is horrendous. I have so many more thoughts all of the time, but tried to just center on the gameplay reveal so I don’t yap forever. But always feel free to send asks, and expect more posts as we get closer and closer!