#Somebody already Said/Showed this???
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Ammm...
EXCUSE ME?!
#grunkle stan#Somebody already Said/Showed this???#stanley pines#stan pines#gravity falls#how not to draw#how not to draw grunkle stan#How to draw grunkle stan
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getting hounded in the whatsapp group of my uni’s doctor who soc for saying that new earth is a good episode. wait until they discover that i think every single episode is good. yes even love and monsters. yes even dinosaurs on a spaceship. yes even fear her. yes even orphan 55. yes even in the forest of the night
#okay my one exception is kill the moon but even that has a few redeeming moments#doctor who comes as a package… i love every nuwho episode as its own entity#and most classic serials too#have a feeling i will be in conflict and defensive. somebody in the chat has already said ‘capaldi was a great doctor but had bad writing’#as if the writing for his era wasn’t the best in the whole show#i digress. i hope to autism my way to president but that will take a lot of opinion wrangling#and being likeable. if the society is a fandom-based one… you know how those people are…#ivy.txt#dw
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idk what else to say about this ep other than i think im already head over heels in love with this show, and this ep was more than enough to seal the deal for me. it was just the perfect ep 2, and I already cannot talk enough about how much i adore just how much time this show feels like it devotes to its characters. like their time on screen just feels long somehow, in the best way, like im not getting rushed through the story or just going from plot point to plot point. the story is comfortable to just put these people on screen and let a scene play out for as long as it wants, take that first scene when mohk first goes into day’s room, or any scene around the fishtank, it’s not pushing you through these scenes to get to the point of them, bc the point is the scene, so mohk can take his time noticing these things in day’s room, or day can spend as long as he wants looking at that fish tank bc those actions, and the length of them, are what tell the story. they are the point. its mohk being one of the only people let into day’s room and being that attentive to his surroundings and figuring out who he is beyond his sight, and and its day savoring those moments where he can see the world a little better bc that’s the highlight of his day and he deserves to have that happiness stretched out as long as possible. it tells the story bc what the show devotes time to is what these characters are devoting their time to, literally mohk is devoting so much of his time to being with day, and devoting in the sense that while he talks about the big paycheck, easy job, the time he spends cleaning up, looking at day’s things, doing things for him, trying to give him experiences and joy, it betrays him. he can say whatever about his reasons for being here but what we see him devote his time to, what the show shows us, how much it shows us, it tells us everything. and for day, we see him repeatedly listening to the little prince, and im not gonna explain the metaphor, we all get it, but again despite what day says and how he behaves, pushing mohk out of his room and locking himself away, it betrays him too, bc he’s devoting all this time to wishing he wasn’t lonely. but just like in the book, it’s not easy for him, it’s not just about going out into a world that scares him, he needs someone to ease him in, to devote their time to him, come at sit a little closer to him everyday until that fear starts to subside. and here mohk is everyday, trying to find the ways he can connect with him, even if to him it’s not something he’s trying to consciously do. time is just beautiful in this show, and i feel like it’s gonna be such a good way to watch the show going forward knowing it is about this impending loss of sight, that time is limited, and yet now it doesn’t feel like there’s any rush at all. and i think it’ll be great to feel the pace of the show changing as the story progresses towards that, and i think retroactively it’ll be rewarding to know that when we could, we did savour all those moments, and took all the time we wanted.
#i feel so emo about this show already somebody help#i truly don’t know how p’aof does it he is truly such a great storyteller and the way he communicates message and theme in all these ways#just astounds me and it has to be said you can’t do this if your actors can’t handle it but sea and Jimmy have come so far from vice versa#and they are the ones that hold these long scenes together and keep you engaged#last twilight
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where do i even start
#tomgreg#stay tuned for a special thing at the end#FIRST OFF CAN I JUST SAY. thinking about my own various skills and abilities tom says as he MOVES CROTCH FIRST TOWARDS GREG.#and he's just told greg his skills. he's got a big dick and fucks fast and hard. so like. there's that.#i'm either to assume he's already showed said skills off to greg and referring to it or he's literally being suggestive#either unconsciously or consciously.#also he wiggles his crotch a little. like. we get it you wanna fuck greg so bad it makes you look stupid.#ok so we've got the tom not tiptoeing around this like he did with shiv and straight up saying i'm not fucking happy#with you going off with somebody else. i don't like it. why are you happy and i'm not that's not fair.#you're mine. i'm not jealous tho haha#we've got them going through what looks like a wedding arch.#we've got them full on acting like a married couple with greg making excuses for tom and holding him back a little. acting like his wife.#we've got tom switching chiding greg for saying something and the ''don't say that!!'' and then greg agreeing#and saying that actually no tom is a lovely man. oh don't mind my husband he's just grouchy!#and then the WAY tom says you've ruined it like he's about to throw up or cry. or both.#and then greg being like ?? how i have ruined it?? and tom ''idk you just HAVE'' all petulant like#and you know what i'm gonna say. a schoolboy.#he's like thanks i hate it#it really is so much this episode. so much.#i have an idea from it of what fic i could write so there's something at least. a
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5 Hours of trying to clear m3s tonight, second week of trying.
I'm going to explode.
He was down to .2% not once,
but 5 times.
I am cursed. I am losing my mind.
This can't possibly still be happening.
No matter how much I try I'm at the whims of seven other people.
For a brief moment I considered uninstalling the game and never touching it again.
I'm so tired.
Its been like this the entire raid series so far.
I just want the stupid bike.
#just a bit of a vent#dont want anyone to take direct fire just because im frustrated#its not their fault my luck is apparently awful#“Current Tier Raids will be FUN” they said#meanwhile i have friends just flying though no problem at all#even had one start after me and get the bike already#i thought i was going to be sick the third time he was at .2#feeling like this is honestly why I stopped playing LoL years ago#and here we are again#hundreds of thousands of gil down and nothing to show for it#send...send somebody
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I don’t mean any offense by this but what do you mean you write in character when you aren’t familiar with the characters at all? How do you know you’re doing anything right? And why do you write for things you don’t know about? No hate I am just curious what you mean or if I misunderstand.
Hi !
So to clarify, I don’t write for characters I’m not at least somewhat familiar with. At most I’ll write (in a fandom I’m already familiar with, like Demon Slayer) something including a character I’m also already at least familiar with but may not know the full backstory of (like Genya and Sanemi).
Using the example of Genya and Sanemi, I’ve seen them both in canon interacting with other characters, we’ve been told a bit about their backstory, their hopes and wants and motivations, and I understand how the show and plot typically works. So even if I don’t know everything about them I consider myself familiar enough to usually be able to write the characters in a way that feels authentic to them no matter what plot happens. Even if the events of canon end up playing out differently, the characters still FEEL in-character (within the little alternate universe plot I’ve created in my own story)
I think I’m doing it right based on feedback I’ve gotten from people who are more familiar than I am (have read the manga, in this example) who say that I did a good job of staying in character. This is one of the more common comments I get on my fics, actually! (My mother is very proud /j)
I write about things I don’t know about because I think it’s fun to speculate on what might happen via writing as an exercise in analyzing/studying the media and the characters itself. Like “wow what is going to happen with X and Y character?? What if it’s this? I’m going to write it!”
That being said I don’t ever write for fandoms I’m unfamiliar with because at that point I’d just write some original fiction and use my own characters lol. And typically if I’m writing a character I am extremely unfamiliar with, they appear as a side character and not main.
To sum up:
1. I am familiar with the characters
2. I know I’m doing it right because I’m familiar enough with the source material and also my commenters seem to think I’m doing it right
3. I don’t lol
_(:3 」∠)_
#the short answer is all my theories and plots are beamed into my brain by angels and I’m a genius#lol jk#anon#but I don’t write anything I’m not at leadt a liiiittle familiar with#a good example is one time I wrote a whole Giyuu thing before I knew anything about his sister#so I got the plot wrong but he was still in character because I’d already seen him in the show#I was familiar with him but not his backstory#and now writing Genya and Sanemi I’m sure I’ll get some plot points wrong#but I know enough I think (moreso with genya) to write them in character even if the plot is wrong#and on my last fic I got comments saying they felt like I wrote sanemi in character even though I don’t know as much about him#because I I’ve still seen him in canon like I’m still familiar enough#I’m rambling now#but like if somebody said ‘ok write a fic for idk. One Piece’#I’d absolutely not be in character because I don’t know a goddamn thing about them
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Girl, this movie is so bad
#cherry says#the lighting is bad the acting is bad the writing is bad#noah baumbach ur life is horrible#IM SORRY IT WAS SO FUNNY HOW IT STARTED it looked like an snl skit already im taking a break#its hard for me from the start to connect to anybody it tries to be relatable and funny#maybe its too AMERICAN for me so some parts are hard for me to understand everything is so stiff#maybe bc for me AS A CHILD OF DIVORCE i seen this so different#divorce shows somebodys true colors as i said before my dad had good lawyers he had so many excuses to say about my mom#I JUST DONT SEE ANY OF THIS COMPLEXITY PUT IN HERE#white people holiday ....... im gonna check my eyeliner
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game time! who do you think of when I say the names: mick, pete, don, glen(n) and roger? 🤍 send this to 10 mutuals and pick your own names
mick tucker, pete ham, don henley, the name glenn always reminds me of @hellbent-for-metal's blog because of the glenn tipton posts annnd the name roger has a 50/50 chance of putting either roger taylor or roger waters in mind
#omg thank you i love this one#sometimes the name pete also puts peter gabriel in mind but i always think of him as peter with the r and pete as pete ham#like saying the name peter would put peter gabriel in mind but just pete would be pete ham#but sometimes it still puts the other in mind a second after i think about it#like somebody says pete#my mind: pete ham#my mind 2 seconds later: ...and pete(r) gabriel#and the same the other way around#although once in a while pete ham will show in mind before peter gabriel even if the name said was peter#but i don't know if that counts because pete ham's face flashes before my eyes at random times throughout the days anyway#maybe it's just that he's the default thought in mind so that's like#you say a word that turns on my brain#it's like turning on the tv#it'll turn on to any channel it was already on when it was turned off last#and then you have to change it to a different channel after it's on#that's probably how my brain works#sorry nobody can say the name pete to me in any form without me rambling nonsense forever about pete ham
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history teacher! sukuna who is known by all university to be the restrict, have the most terrifying exams, and to be a total hottie.
history teacher! sukuna whose eyes lands the first time in a total nerd of the class, the one who always performs perfectly in his exams, wears large sweaters and skirts, and has glasses that always are in the bridge of the nose. He loves seeing how your thighs are so plushy, fighting the urge to squeeze them. And my girl, in this case, the total nerd is you.
history teacher! sukuna who always loves to have your company after classes to do professional things. Like, sucking his dick under his desk like a professional, duh.
history teacher! sukuna whose groans are low and husky when you fondle his balls while sucking his dick, everything in a slow pace. You love torturing him, don't you?
history teacher! sukuna who doesn't let the torture last, and grab a fist full of hair, pushing your head down on his length, creating his own pace.
history teacher! sukuna who loves seeing the drool in your chin, and hear the gags that fill the classroom.
history teacher! sukuna who hears the door suddenly opening and slows the pace, now looking at his two students that fuck him with their eyes in every class, sitting in the front, showing their necklines to him like sluts. Poor girls, don't know that somebody else already got the dick.
history teacher! sukuna whose eyes drift down for a sec, only to look up at them again with a grin in his face.
"I guess I can't take anymore assistents. I already have one that does her job very well."
history teacher! sukuna who said that while pushing you down with brutality, forcing you to hide a loud gag.
history teacher! sukuna who sees that girls walk away with a pout, and laughs to himself.
history teacher! sukuna who quickens the pace and cums in your mouth, making you show him that you swallowed it all after.
history teacher! sukuna who puts you in his lap, grinding your soaked pussy into his dick through the lacy panties you're wearing.
history teacher! sukuna who kisses your neck up and down, showing that he's far done with you.
~ don't copy, please.
today I got a little carried on with the drabbles...
thanks for reading! bye bye, flowerssss! <3
#jjk#jjk x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna simping forever#anime#jjk men#jujutsu kaisen
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Coffee isn't enough anymore I need to be electrocuted
#insomnia or w/e kept me up until 2 but rhen i still had to get up at 5:30 for work#my coworker was trying to show me sales tax except he already showed it to me last month so i wasnt really interested#and my vision was blurring so bad. like my eyes were open and i was nodding along to what he said but i was NOT conscious#too focused on looking awake to actually be able to be awake#somebody please either stop time so i can nap or charge up the tazer im not picky
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strawberry wine
[part 2] pairing: modern au!viktor x artist!reader prompt: “if somebody were to kiss me, i’d want that person to be you” tags: you're jayces childhood bff, no use of y/n, alcohol, heavy kissing, drunk kissing, basically just a bunch of buildup towards a smutty fwb part two???, viktor being a menace wc: 4k notes: AU where nobody is sick or dying yay! also i think i managed to keep this pretty gn!reader but any future parts will be afab/fem art is from pinterest, dividers from chachachannah & webc00re
You never meant for things to get this far. You told yourself it was just a little fun, harmless and fleeting—nothing more. You had a career to focus on, friendships in the balance. But now, here you are, pacing the living room carpet thin, your cuticles raw from nervous chewing, and your thoughts spiraling into places you swore they’d never go.
It feels juvenile, almost laughable, like some smitten teenager waiting by the phone and sneaking kisses in shadowed corners. You were supposed to be above this, weren’t you? I mean, as a grown adult you should know how to keep it casual, uncomplicated.
But nothing about this is simple anymore. Not the friendship. Not the secrets. And certainly not the way your heart betrays you every time his name crosses your mind.
It definitely wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Moving back to the city hadn’t been on the bingo card for this year, but here you were. Your life had been tucked away in the quiet of rural landscapes, where your art had room to breathe—endless skies, rolling hills, and the kind of solitude that made inspiration flow without any distractions. But your career had expanded, and with that expansion came the relentless pressure of galleries, art buyers, and a future that demanded more from you than that peaceful escape ever could.
So, the city had called you back. Concrete towers, crowded streets, the city offered more. Shows. Opportunities. Jayce. The only thing about this cold, steel jungle that still felt like home. Jayce—your childhood friend, your constant in a world that had never stopped changing. Thrown together since you were practically in diapers, he was the one piece of your old life that had somehow survived the years and distance between you two. And now, after what felt like an eternity, here he was, sprawled across your tiny couch, looking too comfortable for someone who was just supposed to be a guest. The apartment was a bit small, as city apartments tended to be—packed between towering neighbors—but Jayce’s presence was the only thing about it that felt remotely like home.
"You know," he said, half-lounging. “I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”
You didn’t look up from your canvas, your brush already dipping into the paints like second nature. “Who?”
“Viktor”
You paused, only long enough for your brush to hover midair before you flicked your gaze in his direction. “Ah, yes. The famous business partner.”
Jayce’s grin didn’t falter, but there was something softer behind it now. “Yeah, something like that. But seriously, he’s a good guy. Brilliant, actually. You two would get along.”
You didn’t reply at first. Instead, you let the brush finish its arc, eyes back on your work, moving with the rhythm of a familiar task. “mhm” you murmured, distracted by the way the strokes of paint were bleeding together. “If he’s anything like you, how bad can it be?”
But Jayce, of course, wasn’t done. His voice took on that soft tone he reserved for moments when he really wanted to get his point across. “I’m serious, okay? I want you two to meet. You both mean a lot to me, and I think you’ll really hit it off.”
You didn’t look up, but you felt a weight behind his words, pushing against you with silent pressure. “Yeah? I’m sure it’ll happen, then.”
Jayce’s eyes lit up, a flash of triumph in them, like he’d just won some small but important battle. “You’ll see. I’m telling you—when you meet him, you’ll click. I know it.”
You leaned back in your chair, releasing a slow exhale, the kind that said everything without saying anything at all. A nonchalant nod was all you offered, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of saying more. “Fine. Fine. I’ll meet him. But don’t make a whole thing out of it.”
Jayce chuckled, and there was an odd note of relief in the sound, like he’d just been granted some unspoken permission. “No big deal, I swear. But you’ll see. You two are more alike than you think.”
-
When you finally did meet Viktor, Jayce was practically vibrating, his energy as unsubtle as ever. It had been after one of your gallery openings, a night you’d half-dragged yourself through on fumes and politeness. Your heels had barely cleared the threshold of his apartment before the faintest twinge of suspicion began to creep in—something about the way he hovered, grinning like a man with a secret.
“You deserve a good meal after tonight,” Jayce had said, ushering you in with the kind of charm that usually preceded one of his schemes. “Thought you’d want to celebrate somewhere that doesn’t reek of overpriced wine and small talk.”
You rolled your eyes but let yourself be corralled, the promise of food outweighing the odd note in his voice. His large apartment, at least, was familiar territory: warm, cluttered with bits of tech and sentimental junk from years past, the faint scent of whatever candles he refused to admit he hoarded lingering in the air.
And then you heard it—the low murmur of another voice, sharp-edged and vaguely amused, drifting from the kitchen.
Jayce froze, his grin faltering for a split second before it reappeared, brighter than ever. “Oh, right,” he said, far too casually. “Viktor’s here.”
You blinked, narrowing your eyes at him. “You conveniently forgot to mention that part.”
“Come on,” he pushed, throwing an arm around your shoulders and steering you toward the source of the voice. “It’s no big deal. Just dinner. You’ll like him, I promise.”
And there he was, perched by the kitchen counter with a faintly perplexed look on his face. He was slimmer than you’d expected, pale and sharp-featured, with hair that looked like it hadn’t met a comb in days. His amber eyes flicked up to meet yours, narrowing slightly as if he were trying to solve a puzzle that had just been placed in front of him.
“Ah,” he said, his accent lilting and crisp, “so this is the infamous artist.”
You shot a glare at Jayce, who was already heading for the stove with the kind of forced cheer that made it painfully clear he’d orchestrated the whole thing. “You owe me for this,” you muttered under your breath, stepping further into the kitchen.
Viktor’s lips twitched, the barest hint of a smirk appearing. “And here I thought I was being ambushed. Seems we’re both victims of his enthusiasm.”
Jayce turned from the stove, wooden spoon in hand, his expression utterly unrepentant. “You’ll thank me later.”
The dinner was simple but undeniably good—Jayce’s doing, of course. The man couldn’t let anyone step into his apartment without insisting they be properly fed, and tonight was no exception. Roast chicken, buttery vegetables with rice, warm bread that filled the space with its yeasty aroma—it was the kind of meal that made you feel at home even when you weren’t.
Conversation flowed easily around the table, mostly carried by Jayce, but Viktor wasn’t exactly quiet, either. He had a way of chiming in at just the right moment, his dry humor landing squarely between Jayce’s more exuberant anecdotes and your own occasional contributions.
“You mean to tell me,” Viktor said at one point, leaning back slightly in his chair, “that Jayce still hasn’t learned to cook rice without burning it? After all these years?”
Jayce, halfway through explaining some disastrous culinary attempt from his youth, turned to glare at him. “Excuse me, this rice was cooked perfectly.”
“It was fine,” you agreed, though the memory of a slightly crunchy bite or two made your lips twitch in amusement.
Viktor’s amber eyes sparkled as he gestured broadly. “Oh, fine! A glowing review, truly. Don’t let it go to your head.”
Jayce groaned, but there was no real bite to it. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet,” Viktor said, raising his glass in a mock toast, “here I am. Invited to dinner. Again.”
Jayce just rolled his eyes and went back to his story, leaving you to glance at Viktor with a small smile. He caught it, of course, and gave a little shrug as if to say, what can you do? For all his sharp humor, he was easy to talk to, his wit balanced by an underlying warmth that kept him from coming off as too cutting.
Which was why you were only mildly surprised when the spoon incident happened.
Dinner was winding down, Jayce had disappeared into the kitchen to fuss over coffee, leaving you and Viktor to handle the cleanup.
He moved with a surprising ease, balancing a stack of plates in one hand, his cane steady in the other. It was a casual sort of competence, as though he’d long since adapted to whatever limitations life had handed him. You hadn’t thought much of it, impressed by how naturally he maneuvered, until the soft clatter of a spoon hitting the floor broke the quiet rhythm of tidying.
“Ah,” Viktor said, glancing down at the rogue utensil with a faint frown as he set down the plate stack. “Of course.”
You paused mid-step, glancing between him and the spoon. “Need a hand?”
He tilted his head, his expression a little too innocent. “If it’s not too much trouble. You know, the leg and all...”
“Oh, for—” Jayce’s voice floated from the kitchen, half-annoyed but not quite committed to intervening.
You sighed, setting down the napkins you’d been folding. “Yeah, sure. I’ve got it.”
But just as you crouched down, Viktor shifted. A casual tap of his cane sent the spoon skittering across the floor, its metallic clink faintly echoing as it landed farther away.
You froze, staring at the spoon in disbelief, then turned your gaze to him slowly. “You’re kidding.”
Viktor’s lips twitched, the faintest glimmer of amusement flickering across his face. “What?”
“You just—”
“What?” he repeated, wider-eyed this time, his free hand gesturing vaguely toward his cane. “I’m handicapped.”
Jayce reappeared in the doorway, a coffee pot in hand and a look of pure exasperation on his face. “Viktor.”
“What?” Viktor said again, his voice laced with mock indignation. “I am!”
Jayce muttered something unintelligible as he poured coffee, his focus shifting between you and Viktor like he couldn’t decide which one of you deserved his scolding more. Meanwhile, you straightened, crossing your arms as a grin tugged at the corners of your mouth despite your best efforts.
“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you said, stepping across the room to retrieve the spoon—again.
“Very generous,” Viktor agreed, his tone breezy. “Honestly, it’s quite inspiring. Jayce, you should take notes.”
Jayce groaned, setting the coffee pot down with a little too much force. “You’re both ridiculous.”
But you were already laughing, the sound bubbling up before you could stop it. As you returned the spoon to the table with a pointed look, Viktor gave you a small, almost triumphant smile. And maybe, you could see what Jayce meant when he’d said you’d get along.
-
The first time you realized you might feel more than just friendship for Viktor was when you noticed the way your sketches had started to change.
It had been weeks—maybe even a couple of months—since that dinner with Jayce, when you had awkwardly danced around each other, getting to know one another. The initial weirdness had faded into easy companionship, and you found yourself spending more time with Viktor than you expected. You hadn’t quite noticed it happening, but somewhere along the line, you’d become an unintentional trio. Jayce had been bursting with barely-contained glee at how easily the two of you seemed to get along, and it made your chest warm, knowing how much that mattered to him. It felt... right, this newfound ease between the three of you, a quiet sort of harmony that made you smile more than you expected.
But as the days passed, something shifted without you realizing it. You were at home one evening, flipping through your sketchbook, the soft pastel dust smudging the edges of the pages as your fingers moved. The forms you’d drawn were abstract models, capturing shapes and shadows in a fluid, organic way. It wasn’t anything new—nothing that stood out. But then, you stopped.
There, in the shadows of the page, you saw it.
The subtle arch of a jawline. The curve of lips that you knew too well. Even the moles, small and almost unremarkable, but there they were—on the page, right beneath your fingertips. You blinked and flipped to another sketch, only to see it again. A line here, a shadow there. It wasn’t him exactly, but it was.
To the untrained eye, maybe it wouldn’t have been obvious. Hell, maybe even to you on any other day, it might’ve gone unnoticed. But now, in the quiet of your studio, the shapes were almost unmistakable. The soft angle of his nose, the way his eyes looked when he was thinking too hard, the way his smile would pull up on one side when he was being particularly smug.
You frowned, setting the sketchbook down, your hands hovering above it as if it had betrayed you. Was this some kind of coincidence? Or was it something more, something you had been avoiding realizing? You’d never consciously set out to draw him, but there he was, tucked into the lines and curves of your art like an uninvited guest you hadn’t known you were entertaining.
It was ridiculous, you told yourself. Of course it was just... coincidence. But even as you tried to convince yourself, there was a small, unspoken truth sitting in your chest, heavy and undeniable, and the first time you realized Viktor might see you as more than just a friend was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it hit you all the same.
He mentioned a piece you’d shown him, his tone thoughtful. “You’ve been doing something different lately. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s a change. It’s...” His gaze flickered to yours, then dropped back to the floor, but the brief flash in his eyes sent an unexpected flutter through your chest. “...more. More than what you usually show.”
The words themselves were harmless, even complimentary, but it was the way they hung between you that made something inside you stir—something you couldn’t name, not yet. You didn’t think much of it at first, but the way his eyes lingered just a second longer than necessary made your breath catch. The way the corners of his mouth lifted into a half-smile, not teasing, but... fond.
It was a simple thing. A fleeting moment. And yet, it lingered in your mind as you retreated to your apartment, your thoughts whirling with the possibility that Viktor—your friend, the one you had so casually laughed and bantered with for months—might be seeing you differently, too.
The shift was subtle, but it was there. And it unsettled you more than you cared to admit.
-
Everything came to a boiling point one night at your apartment. You’d ventured into town earlier that day, mostly for a change of scenery, and happened upon a small farmers market. You couldn’t resist grabbing a few bottles of strawberry wine, its sweetness and fruity undertones practically calling your name. Jayce had scoffed at it when you got back, claiming it was too sugary to have any real punch. “There’s no way I’ll even get drunk off this,” he’d muttered with a dismissive wave.
An hour later, he was sprawled out on your pullout, snoring softly with a stupid grin plastered across his face. You and Viktor stood nearby, both trying—and failing—to suppress your amusement at how quickly Jayce had succumbed to the wine’s effects. For all his size, Jayce was a surprising lightweight.
“I swear, every time,” you said, laughing quietly.
Viktor, leaning against the doorway, gave a soft chuckle. “Some people just don’t know when to stop.”
You rolled your eyes, glancing over at the slumbering man. “Guess we let him sleep it off.”
“Let him have his beauty rest,” Viktor teased, his voice light as he nodded toward the bottles. “We can always finish it ourselves.”
So you did, winding up on the roof with the cold night air around you. The worn-out couch up there had seen better days, but it was still enough to settle into and talk, a simple quiet comfort settling over you both. The soft glow of string lights and the silvered moonlight made the world feel like it was wrapped in a quiet hush despite the never ending sounds of the city. You both settled into the couch, the cushions sinking in the middle, which pushed you just a little closer to Viktor than you'd anticipated.
For a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence was easy, like you had spent years in it. You noticed how close you were sitting now—your thighs pressed together, and when you passed the bottle of wine, your fingers brushed his. A small spark of awareness ran through you each time, and you tried to ignore it, feeling your face warm despite the cool air.
The wine was sweet, fruity, and a little stronger than you expected, especially when you found yourself reaching for another sip and another, the soft buzz in your head gradually growing stronger.
By the time the bottle was halfway gone, you were both leaning more heavily into the couch, and you couldn’t help but giggle at how little wine was apparently needed to bring Jayce to the brink of passing out. You felt... lighter. Almost giddy, as if the laughter that came so easily was spilling out along with the alcohol. And Viktor, sitting just beside you, didn’t seem to be immune to it either. His face was flushed in the soft light, his lips curling into an easy smile.
“You know,” you said, leaning back and feeling the warmth of the couch soak into your bones, “I don’t do this enough. I’m so... wrapped up in work and life and... I just forget to relax.”
Viktor tilted his head, eyes slightly narrowed as he watched you. “Relaxing can be overrated,” he said with a smirk, the words a little slower than they’d been earlier. He took another drink from the bottle, his thumb brushing against the glass in an unconscious rhythm. When he passed it to you, your fingers brushed once again, and you lingered just a bit longer than necessary.
“Well, maybe for you,” you chuckled. “But, for me, it’s like... it's like a luxury, I guess. You know? I don’t remember the last time I just sat with someone and... and didn’t feel like I had to be somewhere or do something.”
“You eh–... don’t have to worry about that here,” Viktor said quietly, his voice light, with that usual teasing edge. But something was different in his tone, something that made the words feel heavier than they should have been. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but the air seemed to shift, the quiet between you stretching into something almost… charged.
You took another sip, your hand a little unsteady now. The whole situation felt absurd—awkward, even, yet strangely intimate in a way you hadn’t expected. Your gaze drifted toward his lips without thinking. It was brief, but enough to send a flutter through your stomach, and suddenly, your mind couldn’t focus on anything but that soft, confident curve of his mouth. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was something else entirely, but you couldn’t seem to think straight anymore.
Viktor shifted closer again, and the couch beneath you groaned as it sank with the weight of it. The space between you closed, and you could feel the warmth of his body pressing against yours shoulder to shoulder, like the alcohol spreading through you, making your pulse quicken.
For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. His presence was a solid thing beside you. His eyes were locked on yours, studying, but still so calm. You could feel the punch of his gaze on you, like it was seeping through your skin, sending heat rushing to your cheeks. It wasn’t just the wine now—you could feel it all over, heat blooming beneath your skin, making you fidget slightly.
“Sometimes… you get caught up in what you’re doing, and you forget about everything else,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the way your nerves were tightening your chest. “I’ve been focused on my career and—god, I’ve probably been a little… I don’t know, closed off.” You laughed lightly, but it was nervous, unsure of where this was even coming from. But suddenly all your senses were barraged by him, his smell, his eyes.
“I just—I haven’t thought about it. Relationships, I mean. Not in a long time. I don’t know if I’m even ready for anything like that. Not now, not with everything I’m doing.” You trailed off, self-conscious, suddenly feeling like you were saying too much, rambling without stopping. The words seemed to just slip out of you, tumbling over each other.
You took another shaky breath, your heart thudding in your chest as you tried to make yourself stop, but you couldn’t. It was like you were helpless.
“And, I mean, if anybody were to kiss me…” You faltered, realizing too late just how much you were giving away. Your pulse quickened, your thoughts jumbled as your mouth just kept moving. “I would want that person to be you.”
The air between you thickened, the silence stretching long and heavy. Your heart pounded in your chest, a nervous rhythm that drowned out everything else. You waited for him to say something, to break the tension that was suffocating you. But there was nothing. Just the weight of his gaze on you, steady and searching.
When you finally dared to glance at him Viktor's expression was unreadable. One thick eyebrow was cocked slightly, and his mouth hung open just enough to suggest he was about to say something, but didn't. He was so close but somehow the distance between you felt infinite.
You opened your mouth to say something, to fill the silence, but before you could speak, his hand moved, his fingers brushing against your jaw in the gentlest touch. The sudden warmth of his palm made your breath catch, and before you could even fully process it, he was pulling you in. His lips met yours, soft at first, as though testing the waters, as if the moment itself was delicate. But that softness didn't last, between the buzz of alcohol, the closeness, the heat between you—it all blurred together. The kiss deepened, quickly turning urgent, hungry. His hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the bottle slipped from your grasp, its clang against the concrete floor echoing in the quiet of the rooftop
You didn't care. You were too lost in the feeling of him against you, his lips moving against yours with a desperate kind of need. The kiss grew messier– clumsy, teeth scraping, tongues tangling. You could taste the faint sweetness of wine on him, the mix of flavors making everything feel dizzying overwhelming.
You found yourself gripping his shirt, pulling him closer, as if trying to merge your bodies together, desperate for the contact, for whatever it was that had been building between you two for so long.
-
The next day was a harsh slap of hangover reality. Your head pounded, your mouth was dry, and every time you glanced at Viktor across the room, your stomach flipped in a way that had nothing to do with the booze.
Jayce, of course, was none the wiser. He chatted away over breakfast like nothing had changed, blissfully unaware of the shift that had unraveled everything you thought you’d had under control. And you? You were wholly committed to keeping it that way. It was a one-time thing, you told yourself. Just a fleeting, drunken thing—something you could both quietly bury and move on from.
At least, that was the plan.
Until it happened again. And then again.
Now it feels like a thread being pulled tighter and tighter, until you’re not sure if you’re going to unravel completely or snap under the weight.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. But here you are. And you don’t know how to stop.
©lilsworks 2024
#viktor x reader#viktor arcane#viktor#arcane#viktor x you#arcane x you#arcane fanfic#viktor fanfic#fwb#friends with benifits#viktor x y/n#arcane viktor#arcane fic#viktor fic#arcane x reader#lils work#mine#strawberry wine
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Vivian nods away in agreement for to her, having a considerable amount of burgers without any soda didn't seem like something that's really heard of... and yeah, perhaps there were way better palate cleansers to be had than carbonated drinks, but as this was a food truck and not a restaurant, the selection of beverages they could realistically order would understandably be a bit limited.
"Welp, I wouldn't go as far as to say I necessarily understand 'everything', per say, but yeah, once you manage to live through twenty one years on this planet, you start discovering some pretty basic stuff... like, for instance, how the human body gets thirsty if you consume salty snacks yet do not occasionally bring yourself to drink water throughout regular intervals," Vivian states. Granted, most would consider that to be 'common sense', but as per usual, she frames it more like an academic study than redundant knowledge nobody would truly bother disputing.
Either way, it doesn't take long for her bespectacled gaze to soon settle on the drinks menu, which was situated to the right side corner of the food truck... and to her delight, Coke was listed as one of the drinks that were available to order, causing her to clasp both hands together.
"Ooh, what do you know?! They do indeed have Coke! No Fanta to be seen, though... then again, at least we aren't forced to choose Pepsi, which is the mid alternative to Coke," Vivian pipes up. Of course, after the final customer leaves, she'll then finally pull out her wallet before turning to Mizumachi. "Alright, so to summarize super quickly... we want ten teriyaki cheese burgers with two cokes?" Vivian repeats in order to ensure they were on the same page.
[水]
“Bia is so smart! I love it!”
Who knew there was such a place so close by? He hadn’t found the place yet, and who knew how long it would’ve taken before he found it. The food truck now had a new fan who was bound to visit pretty often any time homesickness struck him- which was surprisingly often if he was left alone with his thoughts.
The jock laughs at the comment that the food truck wasn’t going anywhere. It wouldn’t sprout legs and run away—but it had wheels, didn’t it? Couldn’t it drive off?
“Yeah! A Teriyaki cheese burger sounds great!”
Sometimes, he’d go into restaurants and find that the food was very different compared to his expectations, but if going by the smell alone, he was sure that he was going to like the burgers here. He normally wasn’t that picky when it came to food anyways, but still! It was a kind of betrayal for someone who craved familiar tastes to walk into a restaurant and walk out of it confused over what he’d actually eaten. He learned the hard way that many ‘fusion’ places weren’t… the best. Guess not every fusion was stellar and epic. Sorry Goku and Vegeta.
“You really understand everything, huh? You’re right! If you’re going to be eating a lot of burgers anyways, ya gotta drink something that pairs well with it. Coke is the best! Fanta is also good, though.”
If you were going to be eating your fill of burgers, was there really any real difference if you chose to drink soda over water? The difference was minor at that point, so there was no point in picking straws. Water was his preferred drink for regular hours, but if he was doing rigorous exercise, then he would reach for sports drinks to replenish his electrolytes. Soda was for whenever he was treating himself to some junk food. Might as well go big or go home (and eat healthier).
#fightingthetides#║▌ ⧼ ⸢ ʚɞ ⸣︳m̲o̲d̲e̲r̲n̲. ⧽ ― ENTER THE MANLY HEROINE OF JUSTICE.#⸾ ❖︎ ⸾ ( SOCIALIZING / o3: vivian and mizumachi ) ⤹ •• 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕤.#⸾ ❖︎ ⸾ ( QUEUED ) ⤹ •• 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕣𝕪.#[ ugh the first example you used reminds me of that (1) time sb (who didn't even reply more than 2 times on our thread) pretty much sent ]#[ me an ask where they timeskipped ahead and had their muse ask out vivian (thereby skipping the whole slowburn process) WHICH WAS ]#[ EXTREMELY RANDOM and forced me to play along to the idea of her being close friends with that muse... but it ended up leaving such a ]#[ bad taste in my mouth afterwards i just ended up softblocking them because while i get being busy irl and not having much time to reply ]#[ to threads i came to the realization i did not want to write with partners who would be too lazy to write the proper development/buildup#[ that would be required for a ship. but on the off chance my muse is already shipped with sb else yeah i'll treat shippy asks as canon ]#[ when it comes to platonic relationships though there's a lot more leeway with me cause i know it can be a pain to write friendships from#[ scratch sometimes (hence why i prefer muses starting out as acquaintances than strangers around 90% of the time) but our muses have to ]#[ be friends for at least a while and actually bond before i'll be comfortable to ship vivian with another muse ]#[ AND YUP... 'the rules for thee but not for me' type you commonly see in the rpc! like what's also funny is that he implied i had jason ]#[ stalk him on my behalf when IN ACTUALITY i told him to visit this guy's blog at his own discretion (because he has a tracker installed) ]#[ and if anything jason only checked his blog a few times out of his own volition because he was curious BUT DESPITE THIS the guy still ]#[ made it out to seem as if i asked jason to keep tabs on his blog (which is something i only knew because he rambled about people ]#[ 'transparently' stalking him on somebody's behalf over on COAR... which i assume is me because i'm the only one i'm aware of he has beef#[ with) BUT YEAH thanks to this guy publicly vaguing me/accusing me of things i haven't done let alone recall doing ]#[ (as well as the fact he claims sb has been showing him my ooc posts) there had been a brief period of time where i did not want to ]#[ continue being active on tumblr as you are well aware because the one rumor milling was not me but him ]#[ in fact everything i had to say about him was based on the comments he posted on COAR or his own vagues i screenshotted cause it seemed ]#[ to be specifically attacking me (which my friends seemingly agreed with) LIKE... as a matter of fact one of my friends even said it was ]#[ obvious he was vague-blogging about me and concluded he must be block evading as well (based on how he worded a vague post) ]
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Part 3 of if Civil War didn't end in divorce and everyone lived together
Part 1 Part 2
-
Mission debrief:
Thor: Don't feel bad Banner, I mean is there anyone at this table who hasn't killed somebody?
Peter: *slowly raises hand*
Natasha: Don't worry you're still young
Peter: 😟
-
Steve: Has anyone seen my shield?
Clint: *points outside*
*Peter, Thor, and Bucky playing frisbee with it*
Steve: I guess I'm not saving those orphans today :/
-
Clint: Tony I said seedless watermelon, are you trying to kill me?
Tony: You're a big boy, you aren't gonna choke
Clint: No but it might... grow
Tony: Oh please don't tell me you still think watermelon seeds grow inside your stomach if you swallow them
Clint:
Pietro: Bro got a licence to kill but still has a Jack and the Beanstock level of education
-
2:34 am
Tony: *leaving Steve's bedroom*
Sam: *leaving Bucky's bedroom*
Tony:
Sam:
Tony: Let's never speak of this?
Sam: Yep.
-
Steve: Tony, you're the smartest person I know. You understand anything you set out to study, your passion is remarkable, innovation beyond anyone on the planet, and an incredible memory
Tony: Thank you thank you
Steve: So why do you STILL NOT CLOSE THE KITCHEN CABINETS
Tony: Uh
Steve: SOME OF US ARE TALL TONY. SOME OF US HAVE BRUISES ON THEIR FOREHEADS BECAUSE OF THIS NEGLIGENCE
-
Tony: Goodnight kid *tucks Peter into bed and kisses his forehead*
*Clint, Vision, Thor, and Dum-E waiting outside the room*
Tony: Oh come on. All of you?
*nodding*
Tony: Vision you don't even sleep. Dum-E I am not kissing you again you gave me chemical burns last time
Dum-E: *lowers head and whirs sadly*
-
Bucky: Don't sit so close to me
Sam: Why, cause I'm black 🤨
Bucky: No because you smell like ass sweat
Sam:
Sam: Why, cause I'm bl-
-
During training:
Natasha: *flips Steve and slams him onto his back*
Peter: Woah! I wanna know how to do that
Natasha: *flips Peter and slams him onto his back*
Natasha: Seems like you already know how
-
Tony: Okay Merida, you and me, darts for a hundred bucks. My suit vs. your freak self
Clint: I'll take that bet
*7 minutes later*
Tony: I have advanced AI targetting technology. SUPER. SUIT. How did I lose?!
Clint: It can do a lot of things Tony but at the end of the day it can't super suck this di-
-
Bucky: Sam's in medical so I'll do the mission debrief with you
Natasha: That was fast, I thought you'd still be coddling your boyfriend the rest of the day
Bucky: What. How do you know about us.
Natasha: I don't, it was a joke...
Bucky:
Natasha:
Bucky: Damn you really are good at interrogation
-
Bruce: I've taken up puzzles as a hobby. It's actually really relaxing
*Box is missing the last piece*
Bruce: *sighs, erases the 61 under the 'Days Without Hulk Incident' sign*
-
Natasha: Kings
Bucky: Go fish. Sevens?
Natasha: Nada. Fives?
Bucky: Shit. Here
Sam: I thought y'all were playing poker, are you for real playing Go Fish?
Natasha: Our pockets got cleaned out so we quit. The poker game is over by Steve
Peter: HAHA SUCK IT OLD MAN, AMERICA JUST WENT BANKRUPT *pulls giant pile of animal crackers to himself*
-
Steve: Do you want to play catch?
Wanda: What?
Steve: Um. Do you want to watch Hannah Montana?
Wanda: I don't even know what you're talking about
Steve: Maybe I could show you how to brush your teeth?
Wanda: Steve you're really scaring me
Steve: The article said to do it together! *shows phone*
Wanda: Are you getting parenting advice from wikihow? Did you even read it or were you just skimming the pictures
Steve: ...Well why'd they put toothbrushing in the photo if it wasn't a good bonding activity?
-
Sam: Why are your titties so bouncy man. Is it to deflect bullets?
Steve: What did you just say about my chest...
Sam: Hey I call em as I see em, and they're staring right at me.
-
Peter: Yo Mr. Stark wanna see a backflip?
Peter: Oh Cap come see my front handsprings
Peter: Natasha watch this aerial cartwheel!
Tony: Why did you tell him you were in the circus. Now that the idea's in his head all he does is jump around and cause noise complaints from downstairs
Clint: C'mon it's cute! He's talented
Bucky: I'm gonna tell him it doesn't count because he has superpowers and that he's a cheat
Tony: But that'll ruin his confidence
Bucky: God I hope so
#incorrect marvel quotes#incorrect mcu quotes#irondad and spiderson#marvel mcu#marvel#incorrect marvel#incorrect quotes#irondad#mcu#peter parker#tony stark#steve rogers#natasha romanoff#bucky barnes#sam wilson#clint barton#thor#bruce banner#wanda maximoff#pietro maximoff#avengers#domestic avengers#the avengers#marvel incorrect quotes#sambucky#stony#stevetony#thor odinson
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play pretend ! 𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ nsfw.
the premise of fake dating your best friend, for just a weekend, is hilarous.. and scary. but what happens after is even scarier.. it's just play pretend right?
warnings / includes — vulgar language, drinking, multiple orgasms, pussy eating
you blamed being way to drunk and jungkook for this situation. it was all his damn fault.
if he hadn't looked at his phone with that stupid look in his face, rolling his eyes at the bright message on the screen. if he hadn't leaned over to your ear, barerly managing to stand due to the beer in his system, groaning about his mom asking him about getting a serious relationship once again. if he hadn't looked at you with those damned kicked puppy eyes that he only ever pulled out when it came to you, asking — no, begging, if you could pretend to be his girlfriend for just two days, a weekend.
for the family reunion in a week.
you had pushed him away, then pulled him back to hold onto him in order to not stumble onto the nearest dancing stranger close to you, laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of his request.
you and him, a couple? nobody would believe that. like ever, especially his mom.
the mom who watched you not move a single muscle at the sight of him shirtless back when you both vacationed at their summer house, in what? junior year? the mom who watched you crush on jungkook's best friend, right in front of her eyes.
no, never would she ever believe that there was anything more then platonic feelings between you both.
but again, you couldn't quite say no when jungkook held your hair up as you puked, about an hour later. not when he gave you water, rubbed over your back in an attempt of giving you some sort of comfort during your nausea.
and you felt bad for him: you knew that jungkook and love didn't really go hand in hand, hell- everybody did. he never stayed around long enough for anything to even scratch the surface of love. you liked to imagine that he wanted it, you see the way he looks at other couples at parties, the ones that are all up in eachother faces, not in a sexual manner just like a safe space.
real, lasting, consuming love? he didn’t seem capable of holding on to it. never changed his ways, he was transparent on how long he planned on staying (which was usually a night) and that was it.
that didn't stop his mother though.
jungkook complained about it often, about how she couldn't stop comparing him to his sister. the sister who married a year ago, already has a child on the way. 'why couldn't he just be a bit more like her taking things more serious n' everything.' is something she said right to your face once when you were talking.
you knew it hurt him, more then he showed, the fact that he simply wasn't good enough. in every way, really.
well, according to his mom.
so you quietly mumble a "fine" as silence filled his living room when he sets up the uno cards on the floor, it's about 4am now. you were to restless to sleep, the loud music still thumping in your head, a little bit of an after taste of your vomit still sitting somewhere.
he didn't say anything, which was strange since he usually was so snarky. just grabbed your shirt, forcing you to sit down on the carpet with him, just muttering something about him 'winning this shit'
if you had to summarize the night, it would've been that he won two rounds.
the coming saturday was hell.
hot, burning hell — in the regard that jungkook touched you absolutly everywhere, and all that in front of his family too.
intertwined your hands at the dinner table where you had to hide a grin, slapped your ass when you helped his mom with kimchi, traced faint circles on your clothed hip when his dad showed you both the new truck he bought.
well, it wasn't just his family. there was somebody else who came, un announced to the both of you.
sooyoung, or better known as his ex.
sooyoung and jungkook were complicated. way more then that, sooyoung wanted something serious, asked to move in with him after like two months (which was the longest time you've seen him be with anyone romantically). it freaked him out and it all resulted in this huge fight, she didn't say the best things about him during it and he- too, of course.
you knew her and his sister were somewhat close but this much? she hadn't even been at the wedding.
but they seemed to be at the hip, and if they weren't, sooyoung was somewhere lurking, studying the both of you, hair short, nails long, lips always glossy.
her dresses were short too, reminding of the time where you had to go clubbing with the both of them. oh, how the tables turn.
the club was packed, a familiar chaos that Jungkook and his friends always sought out on weekends whenever he was back in his hometown. you had lost track of how many drinks you’d had, your head spinning pleasantly, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to focus.
all of a sudden you felt fingers softly digging into your cheeks, holding up your chin to meet the concerned eyes of jungkook, "are you okay?"
you blinked slowly, the world tilting slightly. “yeah, just... feeling a little warm,” you admitted, your voice slurring as you struggled to keep your balance. his brows furrowed, and before you could register what was happening, he was taking your hand and guiding you through the crowd to the bathrooms.
the bathroom door swung open, and he ushered you inside, the harsh fluorescent lights making your eyes squint.
“whoa, bright,” you mumbled, stumbling a little as you sat on the edge of the toilette, your legs spread, mind fucked. jungkook turned on the tap, splashing cool water into his hands before cupping them and splashing it on your face. You gasped, the cold jolting you back to some semblance of clarity.
"better?"
"i want you to touch me."
his hands still hovered near your face, droplets of water slipping from his fingers and onto your collarbone, but you barely registered them.
"wait, what?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper, his gaze searching your face for any sign of playfulness. but there was none.
jungkook cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair, eyes flicking to the bathroom door as if hoping someone would pull him out of this situation — "you're drunk as fuck." he groans, but the words sound more like he was convincing himself rather than you.
you tilt your head, tongue darting out to lick your lips like a damn slut as you mumbled a 'so what?' “you’re drunk too. doesn’t change the fact you’ve been looking at me all night like you wanted to fuck me, kook. don’t pretend."
the muscles in his jaw twitched, a flush covering his cheeks that wasn't just from the alcohol, "listen, let's just get you some water, okay? you've had way too much to drink tonight."
you had never seen jungkook blush before. and you don't know what's gotten into you, but you want to see it longer.
so your fingers reach out, pulling him closer by his belt, looking up to him, "tell me you don't want me, and i'll close my legs, pretend i'm not wet n' pretend like this never happened."
but he gets on his knees for you, careeses your thighs in a matter that should come of as comforting but just ends up making you wetter, leans forward to press a small kiss onto the bare skin, "i'm gonna get you home now. and you'll sleep and wake up tommorow, well rested. think about it again."
but you don't listen, of course you don't. your legs spread even wider, greedy fingers moving to his hair.
his jaw clenched so hard you thought he might crack a tooth, but then his hands ran up your thighs, the touch feather-light, as though he was restraining himself from touching you like he really wanted to.
"you're making this hard." he whispers between gritted teeth.
if you hadn't been so drunk, you would've seen something else being real hard but you were way to out of it. all your mind could think of was lifting up your hips, in a desperate fashion, anything to show him how much you needed it.
in the following twenty minutes, you come; not once, not twice — three fucking times. after each orgasm he kisses your clit, tells you how pretty you were, how he's gonna take care of you, with fresh release coating his lips.
and right after the third one, your head falls against the head rest, yes shut tightly before you meet his gaze again and the words slip out of your mouth, "fuck, i think i like you."
he pauses, his eyes widening as if you just pulled him out of his very own movie, "what?"
#bts fic#bts x reader#jungkook#bangtan fic#jungkook fic#bangtan x reader#jungkook imagine#jungkook smut#bangtan x you#bangtan smut#bangtan fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts jungkook#jeon jungkook#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you
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smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo
chapter one
summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.
{enemies to lovers, fake dating}
includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn
wc: 2.4k
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a/n: first series! it won’t be super long, but I hope you enjoy. send requests for more fics!
-
“Matt, you can’t back out now!” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare at your best friend where he lays on his bed, setting his phone down to look up at you.
“I’m sorry, love, something came up and I can’t make it,” he apologizes, shrugging his shoulders. “I can’t get out of it.”
You groan, throwing your head back in frustration. You had a family wedding to attend and already RSVP’d with a plus one, which was supposed to be your best friend Matt, who had lovingly agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend for the night. Your family was super invasive about you getting a boyfriend, and you wanted to avoid all of the comments and questions by just pretending to have a boyfriend for one night at the wedding, but your plan was falling apart.
“What am I supposed to do? I already told everyone I was coming with somebody, they’re gonna know I was lying if I show up by myself,” you tell him, trying to rack your brain for any ideas.
“You could bring Nick,” Matt suggests, picking his phone back up and going back to scrolling.
You scoff. “Yeah right, like Nick could pretend to be straight for an entire night. He’d be caught in less than an hour.” You shake your head, moving to sit on the edge of the bed next to Matt. “I’m gonna have to go on, like, Bumble or something and find some random to go with me.”
Matt looks up at you over his phone, waiting for you to lock eyes with him before he starts to speak. “I mean… I know one other guy you could ask.”
You tilt your head, excited to hear the suggestion, before you realize who he’s talking about and your eyes widen, head shaking rapidly. “Absolutely not,” you put your hands up, pointer fingers crossed over in an X. “I am not asking Chris, no way.”
Matt raises his eyebrows and purses his lips. “I told you I knew someone, I didn’t say you’d like what I said.”
You roll your eyes. “He would never say yes to me anyway, even if I did want to ask him.”
Matt shrugs. “Maybe. You could always bribe him, he loves a good bribe.”
You think about it for another moment, knowing it would be easier to get Chris to do it than it would to find some random guy to go to a wedding as a first date, but the thought of spending an entire night next to Chris made your skin crawl.
The two of you had never really gotten along, even with you being around as much as you were, you guys never clicked, in fact it was the complete opposite, always insulting each other any chance you got, ignoring each other, and always avoiding being in the same room by yourself, even if only for a few moments.
“I mean… I could try but I really can’t promise I won’t kill your brother, Matt,” you half joke, but not really. “Might turn you into a twin.”
“That’s fucked,” Matt laughs, using his foot to kick you lightly. “I‘ll still be a triplet, even if you kill him. I’ll just be a triplet with severe depression and no will no live.”
“You’re so dramatic,” you tell him through a laugh. “Your life would be so much quieter, wouldn’t that be nice? You’d secretly thank me for killing him.”
Matt shakes his head at you with a smile, though his eyes tell you he thinks you’re crazy, before looking back down at his phone.
“Killing who?” A voice sounds from the doorway and you look up to see the man of the hour staring back at you, a disinterested look on his face.
“You,” you smile sweetly up at Chris.
“That’s nice,” he says, flashing you a fake, tight lipped smile before turning to his brother. “Hey, can you take me to go get food?”
Matt groans and throws his head back, closing his eyes. “But I’m so comfortable,” he whines.
You take a deep breath and consider your options. Chris, who you hate but have known for years, or a random guy who might be a serial killer? You’d definitely be safer with Chris, but the thought of having to be near him without his brothers for an entire night seemed like hell. Especially having to act like you were pleased to be in his presence.
“I’ll take you,” you speak before you can stop yourself.
Both Matt and Chris look at you with shocked expressions, Chris having a bit of disgust in his eyes.
“I’d rather starve, thanks,” Chris replies. “Matt, c’mon seriously, can you take me?” He asks again.
“Chris,” you say in a stern voice, standing up from the bed and walking towards him. “Let me take you. I need to talk to you.”
Chris watches you walk past him through the doorway and then looks back at Matt, shooting him a confused look, to which his brother just shrugs, before he leaves to follow you, finding you by the front door slipping your crocs on.
“The fuck is this about?” He asks, trotting down the stairs to meet you by the front door. “You in love with me or some shit?”
You look up at him with an unamused expression. “You wish I was in love with you.” You huff. “I told you, I gotta talk to you.”
You open the front door and head outside towards your car, opening the drivers side door. You look behind you and see Chris standing in the doorway, staring after you. “I’ll buy your food,” you tell him, and he immediately shuts the door behind him and walks up to your car. “You should’ve led with that!” He says.
You both get in your car and you start driving. “Where do you want to go?” You ask him, turning your head to see him on his phone. “Chris,” you push, reaching out to smack his phone out of his hand, causing it to land on the floor.
“What the fuck, dude. Unnecessary.” Chris huffs, reaching down to grab his phone, but he tucked it between his legs instead of going back on it. “I don’t know, McDonald’s?”
You groan. “You always get McDonald’s. Can’t we get like Popeyes or something?”
Chris looks at you, raising an eyebrow. “Well I didn’t know you were gonna eat, too, jesus. Sure, Popeyes is fine.” He goes for his phone again, but you reach out and grab his hand, stopping him.
“Wait,” you start. “I actually do need to talk to you.”
Chris sighs and puts his phone away in his pocket completely, looking over at you. “Okay, spit it out then.”
You flash a glare at him quickly before returning your eyes to the road. “So… Matt was going to be my plus one for a wedding I’m going to, but he can’t go anymore because something came up, and I can’t ask Nick because he’s gay and that just won’t work, and so that just leaves you.” You tell him nervously.
“So what if he’s gay, your family homophobic or something?” Chris asks, annoyance lacing his voice.
You sigh and pull into the Popeyes parking lot, pulling into a spot and throwing the car into park before you turn your body to face Chris. “No, they’re not homophobic. It’s just… I kind of told them I was bringing a boyfriend.”
Chris stares at you for a moment before laughing, completely unserious. “You? A boyfriend? That’s hilarious. I can’t believe you’re lying to your family about having a boyfriend.”
You don’t laugh though, you just drop your eyes down to your lap, knowing that this was exactly how the conversation would go.
“Wait a minute, that means you want me to pretend I’m your boyfriend? Fuck no, I’d rather be single for the rest of my life. Forget it, dude, you’re shit outta luck with me.” Chris shakes his head, bringing a hand up to run through his hair.
You nod and start backing out of the spot, heading towards the drive-thru. “Yeah I figured that was how you’d respond,” you murmur.
You guys order your food, and you still pay for it, staying true to your word, before heading home. It was a quick but quiet ride back, both of you getting out of the car without a word, not even a ‘thank you’ shot your way. You take your shoes off and head back up to Matt’s room, seeing him in the same position you left him in, only now he was watching a movie, and you got in his bed to join him with your food.
“How’d it go?” He asked, reaching out to steal one of your fries.
“Exactly how I expected it to go. He laughed in my face and said he’d rather be single for the rest of his life than pretend to be my boyfriend,” you tell Matt, looking down at him from where you sat.
Matt smiles up at you, reaching out to pat your leg. “Sorry, kid. You tried.”
You nod and look up at the tv screen, starting to eat your dinner.
-
The next day, you’re sitting on your couch panting your toes and watching your favorite comfort show when you hear the doorbell ring, startling you as you weren’t expecting anybody over today. You look down at your toes and swear under your breath, seeing that you smeared polish along your skin.
You set down the polish on the table and stand up, walking to your door and pulling it open, jaw dropping in shock when you come face to face with Chris, the last person you expected to show up at your door unannounced. You almost wanted to rub your eyes in case you were mistaking him for another triplet, but you knew your eyes didn’t deceive you.
“Chris?” You question. “How did you get here?”
He rolls his eyes at you. “I ubered?” He says like it’s obvious. “You gonna let me in or what?”
You take a step back and let him into your house, shutting the door behind him. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?” You say, sitting back down on your couch. He follows and sits at the opposite end, looking over at you.
He ignores your question, watching you as you continue to do your toes, cleaning up the mess you made. “Why not just get your toes done?” He asks.
You look at him with an annoyed expression. “Costs money? Why spend money when I can sit around and do it myself?” You go back to painting your toes. “Why are you here?”
Chris shrugs. “Been thinking about what you said yesterday, about the wedding.”
You stop what you’re doing and put the polish back down, turning your attention on Chris completely. “Did you change your mind?” You ask him.
He sighs and licks his lips before speaking. “Consider it my charity for the year,” he smiles, tilting his head at you. “But I need a small favor from you.”
“A favor in return isn’t charity, Chris, it’s like… eye for an eye or whatever.” You look at him deadpan. Of course he’d want something in return, he could never do something for you out of the goodness of his heart.
“Whatever, dude, you want my help or not?” Chris asks. “If not I’ll just leave, doesn’t make a difference to me.”
You huff and give in. “Fine. What’s the favor?” You ask him.
He pulls out his phone, scooting a bit closer to you on the couch. “There’s this girl that will not stop hitting me up and she’s driving me crazy. I told her I’m not interested, I’ve ignored her messages, I even blocked her on snap to see if she’d get the hint but she still texts me every day.” He shows you all of the unanswered messages and your jaw drops.
“Holy shit, what does this girl see in you?” You laugh, reading how desperate she was for Chris.
“Funny,” Chris replies, unamused.
“What does this have to do with me?” You ask him, looking back up at his face.
“I think it’s only fair if I pretend to be your boyfriend at the wedding, you pretend to be my girlfriend on social media. Only for a few weeks or until she stops messaging me. Plus, you’re way hotter than her. ” Chris tells you, and by the tone of his voice, he’s completely serious.
You feel heat rising up your neck and you try to get it under control before your cheeks turn red. “You think I’m hot?” You ask him, a teasing lilt in your voice.
“Not the point,” he replies.
“So you tell me that you would rather be single for the rest of your life than pretend to be my boyfriend, and now you want me to pretend I’m your girlfriend?” You clarify, and he just nods, like it’s no big deal. “Pretending to be together at an event is one thing, but you want to take photos to look like a couple? That’s a little… intimate don’t you think?”
Chris shrugs his shoulders. “I’m a big boy, you’re a big girl. Don’t think you can handle a little physical touch without falling for me?” He smirks, leaning in closer to you.
You grimace and reach up to push his shoulder away. “Gross, dude. I could have sex with you and still not fall in love with you and your terrible personality.”
Chris gasps, fake shocked, throwing a hand to his chest. “I am a very good lover, why do you think this girl won’t stop texting me?”
Your eyes widen. “You had sex with her?!” You shriek. “Chris, no wonder she keeps blowing your shit up!”
Chris groans and throws his head back, leaning it on the back of the couch. “It was supposed to be a one time thing, I don’t know why she’s so hung up on me!”
You find yourself giggling a bit before you stop and clear your throat, not wanting to give Chris the satisfaction of making you laugh. You compose yourself and shake your head, clearly disappointed in the boy across from you. “Fine, I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend, but no kissing! I draw the line at kissing.”
“Oh, you don’t have to worry, I don’t want to kiss you,” Chris cringes. “So… I guess we should start planning this?”
You nod and smile towards him, placing your hands in your lap as you guys start to figure out how to execute both individual plans.
-
a/n: this chapter is SUPER short but it’s kinda just to get a feel of the fic and how it’s gonna play out. I really hope you guys like this series im so nervous about it!!
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This is just a mini info dump from an Arab batfamily fan because I find Damian calling his siblings Akhi... adorable (for me as a native speaker watching a writer use Arab words) and, not painful, just... itchy, it URGES me to make a pptx with 300 slides and just? Talk about Arabic?
So... أخي, Akhi, Brother.
It's not incorrect. The word is used in the right place and delivers its intended meaning. Other Arab speakers might not find a problem with it. They'd feel odd like I did but will likely go "eh" and carry on. But I'm an Arabic enthusiast, so...
Like with every language with geographically widespread users, the Arabic tongue kind of- deviated from its roots. The language has naturally branched out into so many dialects I myself can't keep track of.
Arabs from different regions can understand each other. They use the same words but for different purposes and with different pronunciations.
The original root language that holds them all (Quranic Arabic) was simplified into an easier, standard version that is used for formal speeches and as a communication bridge (seeing that you can't, say, translate something to Arabic and say it's for all Arabs if you use a certain dialect. Because an Arabic dialect is an identity at this point, tell me somebody is Syrian, and I know them already)
Now, with the fun part.
See, no Arab calls any sibling of theirs Akhi, I myself would burst laughing if mine did.
Yakhoi يَخوي (nonstandard, everyday Arabic for o, brother) , maybe, if I'm calling a stranger from the streets or an offender I'm going to give a piece of my mind.
Or, hold your breaths, my brother is crying, and the lights are out and I NEED to use the tenderest, most loving, most adoring, most revering tone I could muster so he just knows he is loved and family. Y'know? This specific situation.
And other Arabs might just say, no, I use it when, I use it when, I don't use it, etc.
The point is, nobody will mention Akhi. Because it's a Standard Arabic word, a formal word, and a word used in translated texts and stories when a foreign character we don't consider part of us call their brother. It's weird, it's devoid of emotions, and it's like watching a robot trying to be emotional, but it's a translated text. That's what translated texts use, and it's fine.
It is fine, Standard Arabic has been used for stories so much that nobody questions its influence on a character's characterisation.
I'm not saying Standard Arabic shouldn't be used for story writing, quite the opposite, in fact. I'm just saying that if Arabic is used to represent an Arab, its usage should also consider an everyday Arab experience and manners.
Now to Damian.
Akhi is robotic. Damian's personality does allow him to fall under that category. If for his well refined manners and polite, formal speech.
But even the King wouldn't call his brother Akhi.
He'd call him by his name. For my community (and most, I'm sure) siblings are called by their names, and if we look up historic Quranic (Root) Arabic speakers, they, too, call their siblings by their name. Yes, even the Sultan.
If not by actual name, then either endearing or demeaning names.
Arabs LOVE endearing names, but they're dipped in a pool of honey I don't think Damian would like to dive in.
Talia, on the other hand, would most certainly call Damian Mama. Arab parents call their kids by their own titles. It's the ultimate expression of parental love of all times, in my opinion.
(Don't make Batman call him Papa, though. Pretty sure Damian would malfunction)
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Well, I said all that, but watching writers include Arabic words in his vocabulary is still sweet. Tt is not even a word, but it's such an Arab thing it's my favourite.
If only I could make subtitles of everyday Arab talk and show you, their speech is heavy with, excuse my English, word softeners, it's like they're talking in a TV drama and not the real world.
Watching Damian adopting it would be interesting :D
#damian wayne#robin#batman#bruce wayne#talia al ghul#batfamily#dc comics#damian#batman comics#batman fanfics#batman fics#batman content#now I wonder if native English speakers feel the same when they hear me talk lol
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