#have I used that line before I can’t remember

[luveline]

hi lovely, was wondering if you would be able to write any hotch x bombshell!reader ? maybe before they got together or any scenario/prompt you feel like!

take care of yourself and have a great day!!💝💝

The problem with Aaron Hotchner is that he’s too lovely for his own good. He might not think of himself that way. Not many, if any, of the office would agree. Morgan thinks Hotch is a hard-ass and Elle likes him in her way, but she rolls her eyes when he gets snippy, and Spencer… well, you think you and Spencer are probably on the same page. 

Hotch is kind, and a good man, and if he looks handsome when he’s frustrated that’s just how nature intended it to be. 

“Stop it.” 

“No.” 

“Stop.” Hotch levels you with a look over his computer. You’re surprised he knows how to use it, considering the semi-permanent callus on the pointer finger of his right hand. You must’ve watched him pen a thousand case files, consults and forms in a love letter to the old ways. 

He types slowly, but you’ve decided to keep your comment about it to yourself. “You’re looking at me like you know something I don��t,” he says. 

“Maybe I do.” 

“I’m sure you do. Stop bragging.” 

You lean on your elbow on the desk. He’s got a file open in front of him he’s transcribing for the sake of security. It details a case from a few months ago, and each line of the investigation is printed in Hotch’s neat script, lilting to the left over time. He frowns as he turns a page and realises it’s practically margin to margin with detail.

You want to offer to do it for him, but he’ll say no. You want to slide your foot up the leg of his slacks to see if he’ll blush as he did last Friday when you’d done the same thing, Gideon in the doorway none the wiser and somehow disapproving regardless. 

And Hotch, he’d laughed like a kid when the door closed, not turned on in the slightest but endeared by the guts it took you to try. Then he’d sort of enticed you around the desk somehow —you don’t remember the before of it, only slinking to his side with your heels tumbled on their sides under the desk still, his palms wide and open as you settled on a wooden corner. 

“I’m pretty good on the computer.” 

“I know,” Hotch says. “I authorised your computing and communications technology seminar myself.” 

“I was good at it before the mandatory company training garbage,” you say without heat, wondering how you might entice him over your side of the desk. Flirting aloud doesn’t work. Neither does footsie, and besides, what fun is that for you? But he’d looked at you in this strange way, none of his commanding sternness about him. A smile lingered on his lips; he can’t have known he was smiling at all, or it wouldn’t have shown. He’d left something honest there for you to see. 

Maybe it’s in your best interest to let down your own walls for a minute, too. 

“I could help,” you say. “Perhaps not from the same file, but I can get the laptop and start on the Maryland stuff. If you like.”

He looks at you steadily over the computer. His eyes seem lighter, the suspicious set to his mouth oddly close to smiling. “What do you want?” he teased quietly. 

“Nothing. Just figured it would make your life easier.”

“When have you ever made my life easier?” 

Your smile slips before you can stop it. Immediately, Hotch isn’t smiling either. The, “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that, honey,” almost doesn’t reach you, over that sharp second of hurt. 

“It’s fine.” You plaster on a smile again to save him the trouble. “I know you didn’t.” 

“No, really. I didn’t mean that.”

“Hotch,” you say, thumbing over his name slowly, “I know. We were teasing.” 

“Flirting,” he corrects. 

Your smile is real, then. “Flirting?” you ask. “That’s rather forward. Flirting might imply we like one another enough to, oh, I don’t know, help each other with our overflowing workloads?” 

He looks at you, all dark and him, steady, strong, all the stupid things that draw you in. You’re not just in it for his arms, however tightly corded they might seem when he’s pulling off his tie after a long day. “You do more than enough for me just sitting there,” he says, holding your gaze with a careful casualness that has your heart tripping in your chest. “Can you do that for me?” 

“Do what? Just sit here looking pretty?” 

His shoe touches your ankle. “Exactly,” he says quietly. “Just sit there exactly as you are. I promise I don’t need anything else from you.” 

Warmed from the inside out, you sit back in your chair. Grinning like a fool. “Why didn’t you just say that?” you ask. Any chance at sounding casual is lost when your voice comes out gossamer thin. 

He looks you over appraisingly. “See?” he says, turning back to his case file. “Thank you, honey. You’re a big help.” 

You swing one leg over the other to get comfortable, crossing your arms over your stomach smugly. “I know.” 

[chleem]

One shot: bf!rafe cameron x gf!reader

Summary: rafe teaches you golf

Genre: flirty/sexual tension + lil verbal fight at end (read at own caution

⋆.˚ dont copy or translate my work pls!

♡⸝⸝ russian roulette with rafe

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Rafe wasn’t sure why you decided to join him at the country club today. 

He remembers you calling golf the “most boring thing ever,” practically mocking it the last time the subject came up. 

But here you are, standing beside him on the manicured greens, your eyes scanning the course with a look of curiosity. 

He’s trying to keep his attention on the game—Topper lining up his shot, the sound of the club meeting the ball—but his eyes keep drifting back to you, walking over to the golf cart. 

The golf skirt paired with the pink polo you wear gives the perfect balance of sporty and feminine, suiting you perfectly. 

And whenever you move, the skirt hikes up just enough to expose your ass cheeks. 

He doesn’t know whether it’s the outfit or just you, but it’s definitely distracting.

“Aw, shit,” Topper mutters under his breath, the ball flies off the mark, heading straight for the trees. “I can’t catch a break today.”

Rafe remains motionless; eyes focused as you rumble through the bag of clubs. 

You have no idea which one to grab, but the way your fingers move with confidence makes it look like you’re in control.

“Rafe, your turn,” Kelce’s voice breaks through the moment, pulling Rafe back into the game.

“Wait! Lemme try,” you butt in, your voice light but with a hint of determination.

Rafe’s eyes flick back to you, a little surprised by the interruption. He watches as you step forward, confidently grabbing the club you had been fiddling with earlier. 

But before you can even get ready, Rafe steps in, stopping right in front of you.

“That’s… uh, not really the one you want,” Rafe says, his voice lowering slightly, but there's no mocking in it—just genuine concern.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing yours as he takes the club from your hand and holds it up for a moment, inspecting it. 

9-iron. 

He glances up at you, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, his gaze flicking down your frame before landing on the club again.

Yeah, your 165 ass isn’t using that one. 

He steps away for a brief moment, and comes back handing you a different club—a 7-iron, lighter and a little more forgiving.

“Here,” he says, the briefest smile on his lips, “this one’s better for you. Trust me.”

“Thanks babe,” you smile, your tone warm and easy, the words slipping out naturally.

Rafe watches you, his eyes following as you walk toward the ball (the one Rafe previously hit), but then his expression shifts—he notices the way you're positioning yourself.

You're totally off, standing at the wrong angle, about to take a swing in a way that's definitely not going to work. 

His brows furrowed as he watches, a mix of concern and amusement crossing his face. 

He hears the quiet, muffled laughter of his friends and shoots a glare their way, silencing them instantly.

Stepping in once again, he lines himself behind you, his body pressing tightly against yours as he adjusts your posture. His broad shoulders come around, and he reaches forward, his hands settling over yours. 

He’s practically hugging you from the back. 

The proximity sends a slight pulse of awareness through you—his body so close, his presence solid and sure.

“You’re holding it- completely wrong,” he murmurs, taking your hand. 

Through the rough texture of his gloves, you can feel the warmth radiating through as he steadies your grip, guiding you to the perfect hold on the club. 

Rafe then lines your arm up to the ball, but not before his hand slips briefly to your lower stomach.

“Arch your back,” he instructs softly, his breath near your ear, making the moment feel more intimate than it should.

You do- and it causes your ass to further curve into him. 

A light groan escapes his lips, the sound somewhere between a chuckle and a soft exhale. “From your hips, babe, not your waist.”

“Oh,” you reply, your voice laced with a mix of realization and a little embarrassment. You quickly adjust, shifting your weight back from your hips like he said. 

“Good,” he mutters, his voice low, lips brushing against your cheek. “legs shoulder-width apart, and knees bent.”

As you settle into position, you feel your body anchor itself, grounding you in the stance.

“This feels weird,” you comment, the unfamiliar grip suddenly feeling heavy in your hands.

Your words slip out of Rafe’s mind, his mind consumed with this position of you. The way you have it all backed up into him- it’s making it hard to keep the dent forming in his pants under control. 

“Rafe? How do I swing it?” you ask, interrupting his thoughts.

“We should try this tonight,” 

Rafe whispers to you, his voice dropping to almost a possessive tone. 

It sends a chill down to your spine, and you turn your head over to him, meeting his blue eyes. They stare lazily into yours, the color sparkling just enough for them to reflect.

“What? Golf?”

His lips twitch into a smile, not playful, almost smug. 

His gloved hands tighten its hold around yours. 

“…sure,” he murmurs. 

Taking a breath, Rafe then shifts his focus back to the sport. 

“Right,” he says, his voice a little raspier than before. “First, rotate your hips as you swing. Don’t just use your arms.”

He moves along with you, guiding you as you raise the club to the height of your waist, your arms moving in sync with the flow of the motion.

“And follow through, keep your head down and eyes on the ball.”

His lips are near your ear, voice low and steady, guiding you like he's teaching you more than just the swing.

He takes a step back, eyes scanning your stance.

You feel the space between you widen, and for a second, you almost miss the warmth of his body. 

You take a breath, focus on Rafe’s voice in your ear, rotate your hips, eyes on the ball.

The club swings down, and there's a sharp, satisfying thwack as the club hits the ball.

The ball takes off, flying straight and clean.

There’s cheers behind you from his friends, but all you focus on is Rafe’s expression. His eyes locked on you, lips slightly parted, a look of quiet approval in his gaze.

You can’t help but smile, feeling that warmth spread through you.

“That’s my girl,” he says, his voice soft but full of pride.

“She’s better than you, man,” Kelce teases. 

You play along, turning slightly and giving an exaggerated bow. “I’m a natural,” you say with a playful grin.

Rafe chuckles too, but his eyes never leave yours, affection still clear in his gaze. “Yeah you are," he mutters, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

The next one up is Kelce, and once you return to Rafe’s side, he casually slips an arm around your waist, pulling you a little closer to him. It’s a natural move, but the closeness sends a warm jolt through you.

“You think I’ll be this lucky next round?” You ask him, leaning onto his shoulder. Your eyes glue to the side of his face, watching the way his jaw tenses ever so slightly.

Rafe’s lips curl up into that half-smile of his, the kind that makes your stomach flutter. “That wasn’t luck,” he starts, “purely you…and this great teacher you have.”

He tilts his head slightly toward you, giving you a side glance, his expression playful but with that underlying intensity you’ve come to know so well.

You roll your eyes at him, earning his throaty laugh. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Cameron,” you say flirtatiously. 

But before you can add anything more, Rafe leans a little closer, his lips brushing your ear as he murmurs, “You’re driving me crazy.”

The comment is soaked with horniness, and your thoughts are confirmed when the hand around your waist slips underneath your skirt, kneading the soft fat there.

You can’t help but let out a soft, surprised whelp—louder than you’d intended. The sound catches the attention of his friends, eyes on you again. 

Flushing, you push his hand away playfully, trying to cover up your flustered reaction. “Nothing- there was a spider," you lie, mumbling shyly. 

They laugh lightly, and that’s when you notice Kelce was done with his turn. 

“Hey y/n—” Rafe pauses, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on the side of your forehead, his arm naturally wrapping around your shoulders as he pulls you back in. “How ‘bout a private sesh?”

His friends, already finished, start heading over to their golf carts, clearly ready to move on. But Rafe doesn’t seem in a hurry to follow.

You glance up at him, seeing the playful yet lusting spark in his eyes. 

He’s too easy to read, honestly. 

You bite down on your lower lip, trying to suppress the eager smile threatening to break free. “…no funny business,” you tease, while your hand gives his clothed crotch a light pat. 

Rafe’s smile deepens, taking your hand and interlocking it with his. 

He peers over your shoulder, yelling back at the guys, “You guys go ahead, we’ll, um…”

The group pauses, looking between the two of you, and then Rafe glances down at you with that familiar, devilish smirk, “don’t wait for us.”

As if on cue, the group doesn’t need another word. They exchange a few amused glances, rearranging the carts (leaving one for you two) before heading off. 

The faint chatter and laughs echo away, leaving just you and Rafe on the opened golf course. 

Rafe wastes no time, leaning in and kissing you hungrily. 

Both of you drop your clubs, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. You feel the rough glove wrap around the back of your head, angling your face so his tongue dives deeper into you. 

It’s a sloppy kiss, but one that only gets more passionate by the second. 

“Shit,” he mumbles against your mouth, hands slipping under your skirt again. He kneads your ass again, another hand going to undo the buttons of your polo. 

But you hurriedly stop him, almost panicking as you pull back. 

“Not here, Rafe-“

“There’s no one here-“

“Cameras, and people over there-“

“Let them watch-“

“No, Rafe,” your voice finally cuts through his, and distance is created through the both of you. Your chest rises and falls, from both the breathless kiss and the sudden rush of energy. 

Rafe’s smirk fades slightly, but his eyes stay locked on yours. “You sure?” he asks, voice low, a hint of challenge in it.

You hesitate for a second, your pulse hammering in your ears. “Yeah, I’m sure,” you reply, steadying your breath. 

You glance around, and you were right- someone drives by on their cart. 

“You couldn’t be patient for a couple of minutes?” You scold lightly, picking up the two golf clubs from the floor. 

Rafe’s eyes flicker briefly to the cart passing by, then back to you, the realization of you being right settling in. 

“I can,” he says, following you as you make it to the golf cart. “But you sure as hell make it difficult.”

Once you're at the cart, Rafe casually takes his gloves off, tossing them somewhere inside without a second thought. Before you can even react, he’s already taking the clubs from your hands, placing them back into the bag. 

“Just sit down already,” he tells you, a flicker of frustration in his voice. 

Somehow, he’s irritated again, the short fuse of his temper flaring up. 

Not wanting to add fuel to the fire, you hop into the driver’s seat. 

“Fuck, and you know where to go?” he asks, his voice laced with snark.

You shoot him a look, before scooting over to the passenger side. You cross your arms, deliberately not engaging with his mood.

Rafe sits down, resting his hand on the steering wheel, his eyes flicking to the wide field, as if he's suddenly noticing how much of a dick he's being.

The silence stretches between you for a moment, and then his jaw tightens, like he's working through something. Finally, he exhales sharply, glancing over at you.

Tapping his fingers against the wheel, he says, “I didn’t mean to snap- get angry like that.”

The words hang in the air, but you don’t respond. Instead, you keep your body angled away from him, building that invisible wall between the two of you.

Rafe notices, his gaze darkening as he watches you, his lips pressing into a thin line. 

With his mood swings and your stubbornness, things can easily spiral south, and he knows it.

“C’mon, don’t do this,” he mutters under his breath, more to himself than to you, “I- I’m not even mad to begin with, c’mon babe.”

His voice drops to a softer tone, and his hand wraps around your thigh. The touch is soft, almost like a silent plea for forgiveness. 

You turn your face back to him, and meet the desperate, pretty eyes of his. 

“Just drive, Rafe,” you murmur, your voice soft but resolute, an unspoken surrender.

He pulls his hand back reluctantly, resting it back on the steering wheel. His gaze lingers a moment longer on your face, studying your features. 

“Yeah,” he mutters, a little defeated, “I’ll drive.”

He starts the cart, the hum of the engine filling the space between you. 

As he drives off the grass and onto the paved road, Rafe’s hand slides over yours, forcing it onto the wheel. His fingers curl around yours, covering your hand completely, holding it firmly in place.

When you don’t pull away or argue, he takes it as a win. 

Even more so when he feels you scoot over slightly, your head gently resting on his shoulder. He doesn’t say anything, but the subtle shift in your proximity softens him, a hint of relief washing over his features.

“…you really think I did good today?” 

You whisper over at him, and he glances down at you. 

His lips curl into a small smile, “yeah.”

He then adds on more firmly, “Yeah, you did. Join me next time.”

“Okay,” you softly whisper, the quiet affirmation slipping from your lips like a promise.

Maybe golf can be the most interesting thing ever, if you do it with Rafe. 

Plus, there’s most definitely a bonus at the end, which is, three rounds of orgasms flowing out of you. 

As soon as the two of you got back to the main building of the country club, Rafe wastes no time in fucking the brains out of you, of course, with your skirt on. 

And now, almost every time he’s on the course, you’re there with him.

-------------------------------

word count: 2.4k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: ngl, relationship with rafe is: mood swings. and its mostly rafe's. one moment he could be very loving, and then boom, he gets a bit annoyed (but thats just imo

but hope you enjoyed...whatever this was! its so fun to write about rafe

other | russian roulette w/rafe

[yutarot]

cozy. n.jm

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ childhood bff!jaemin, snowboarding au, fwb, sfw

synopsis. you and jaemin have been inseparable since you were children. when you and a few of your friends go on your annual mountain ski trip, the air grows tense when they find out that you and jaemin have been sleeping together. so what happens when an overnight snowstorm extends your trip, bringing a sudden change of plans and a very unlikely guest to your vacation: jaemins crush. will your friendship survive within the cold presence of snow or will it melt away once the sun rises.

wc: 6.8k

warnings. implied sex, suggestive, language, jaemin sucks, miscommunication (sorry), yn is wayy too nice in this

notes — ty to the anon who gave me this idea hehe i immeeediately thought of jaemin so i had to write it. i hope u enjoy this it was fun to write (also ended up being way longer than i expected butttt oh well)

the trip started 4 days ago. 

you always loved your winter ski trips. you loved the way the snow glistened under the sun, illuminating the sky line in a crisp peach orange. you loved the way you could become carefree, no worries of college or having to pick up extra shifts at the cafe. it was always perfect, a spirited culmination of a frosty vacation. 

like usual, you unpacked at lightning speed, occupying the room directly between jaemin and jisung and opposite chenle. as kids, you and mark used to argue over who got the room that you stay in, it being the only room in the cabin with a double bed, but after many years of relentless fighting, you always managed to beat him.

the five of you have been friends since before you could remember, constant pranks and silliness as kids soon became reliability and comfort as you grow into your late teens. but now that you all attend college together, you’re closer than ever.

admittedly, you’ve always been closer to jaemin than the rest, your childhood homes being next to each other, serving as a reason for you to play out in the street each evening after school. even as you entered high school and eventually college, you stayed close, despite jaemin’s tendencies to sleep around with girls and eventually ghost them soon after.

you would be mad at jaemin’s exploits, but you can’t exactly say that being mad at someone’s past actions is entirely justifiable, especially since his playboy behaviour has recently become less frequent.

the air in the cabin is surprisingly warm, a crisp layer of frost encasing the windows and blocking the breeze of snow as it falls upon the mountain that the cabin rests between. the sky, once blue, is now an iridescent hue of orange, reflecting off the snow on the ground and pulsing through the window and onto the wooden walls around you, making them glow. it is an utterly beautiful place, and you thank chenle’s parents for letting you stay here each winter unsupervised.

as you walk through the walkway and into the main room, you spot chenle upon the sofa, browsing the old vintage tv for any channels that don’t bore him profusely. mark and jaemin are playing a game of chess on the floor, resting themselves upon fluffy white cushions and muttering snarky comments to each other under their breaths. noticing your presence, chenle clears his throat, causing mark to look up at you, and eventually, jaemin to spin his body round in your direction.

“i’m bored.” you say, “that tv looks way too old to function and i don’t know how to play chess.” 

chenle speaks first, “well, i mean, maybe if you actually spend some time with us, you might have some fun.”

“sounds like a blast.” you say sarcastically, “i just think we should go out and do something in the snow instead of just being all cooped up in here for the third day in a row.”

“it’s too cold.” jaemin utters, “usually it’s not this bad.”

“and? just put on an extra layer.” you reply, looking to mark for help.

sighing, mark speaks up to agree with you, and with his help, you eventually manage to convince chenle and jaemin to go and wake up jisung, before layering up and grabbing your snowboards from the shed behind the cabin.

as you all walk across the mountain to the ski area, occasionally partaking in a small snowball fight on the way, you hurl yourselves onto the ski lifts.

you sit in between jaemin and mark, ignoring mark’s teasing as you struggle to get yourself seated.

once the lift begins to climb, you feel an immediate sense of calm. you’ve always enjoyed these trips, a moment of relaxation away from home, all with your favourite people. it is true that you wish you could bring your girl friends along, but they all hate the boys with a passion for multiple, various (and valid) reasons, and so, with their permission, you go without them.

lost in your own thoughts, you don’t notice as you suddenly begin to slip from the ski lift, the bar doing absolutely nothing to keep you in place.

“yn?”, you hear jaemin’s voice beside you, a weird sense of distress lining his voice as he quickly grabs a hold of your arm, attempting to lift you back onto the seat.

but it’s no use, the snowboard beneath you weighs you down and you slip from his grasp.

“mark, she’s slipping.” jaemin urges the other boy beside you.

“shit.”

they both try to bring you up, but as you get higher and higher to the top of the slope, the ground begins to find your feet, pulling you down with it.

you stumble before landing upside down into the snow, luckily not sliding anywhere, but unfortunately feeling a sudden frosty chill as piles and piles of snow seep into your clothing and down your back.

noticing your discomfort, jaemin bends down, lifting your face to his and, with a gentle smile, he brushes your snow-covered hair from your face.

“it’s… everywhere.” you shiver.

“everywhere?” jaemin asks.

you roll your eyes. “not the time for jokes.”

it takes you a while to notice mark standing behind jaemin, but when you do, you tell them both to continue on without you and that you’ll find your own way back to the cabin to change your clothes.

nodding after making sure that you’re okay, mark leaves to snowboard down the slope, leaving you and jaemin as you sit, still shaking, covered in ice and snow.

“i’m gonna-“ you say, getting up.

jaemin interrupts. “let me help you.”

“i don’t need help.” you reply.

there is a moment of silence before jaemin speaks again, as if he is choosing his words carefully.

“i know a better way to warm you up.”

your face lines in an expression of shock.

“we promised we wouldn’t do it here.” you say, “what if one of the others see something?”

“they won’t.” he smiles at you before pointing in the direction of the others, all enjoying themselves drifting down the snow, swerving in all kinds of directions.

it doesn’t take much for you to give in. so when you get back to the cabin, eventually changing into some fresh clothes that will eventually be pointless, jaemin turns out to be right.

he does know a way to warm you up.

his request didn’t surprise you, and you’re unsure if the others finding out that you and jaemin have been secretly hooking up for the past year is an all too bad thing. but at the thought of them having a little bit too much fun potentially teasing you both, you decided to keep it on the down-low.

it was never supposed to happen; you and jaemin are best friends. but after jaemin’s vow to stop playing with girls’ hearts and your fresh break up with your ex, you both decided that the logical thing to do is to use each other when you need it. it was simple.

over the past year, you have established 3 main rules for your ‘friends with benefits’ situation. number 1: you and jaemin can both sleep with other people if you so wish, number 2: no feelings are involved, if one person begins to feel anything for the other, then you must break it off. (this one isn’t and never will be a problem for you two, but you need to add it there anyway; you’ve heard the stories about jaemin the ‘serial heartbreaker’, and you definitely don’t want to be a victim of that) and number 3: no sleeping together during the winter ski trip. right now, you are breaking a rule, and neither you, nor jaemin, seem to care. it does scare you a little, however, considering how easily jaemin was willing to break it, and it has you wondering how strong the other rules even are.

after cleaning yourself up, you make your way to the kitchen to make yourself and jaemin a hot chocolate, sprinkling far too much powdered chocolate on the whipped cream and having to clear up all your mess soon after. jaemin follows you into the kitchen, pulling his shirt back over his head.

“can i ask you something?” jaemin says, reaching his arm past you to scoop his finger into the whipped cream and swiping it onto your nose. you push him away, watching as he giggles at you frantically wiping the cream off your nose in annoyance.

“sure.” you reply, and he leans on the counter beside you.

“when was the last time you slept with someone else?”

if you say the question doesn’t surprise you, you’d be lying. jaemin knows you can sleep with other people, it’s part of your rules. so why do you feel as though you’re in trouble?

“last saturday. that party on joomi’s street. eric sohn.”

jaemin’s face is unreadable. you continue, “if you’re worried you have competition, i wouldn’t worry. it was just one night.” you laugh.

“oh, i’m not worried.” he replies, “especially after the way you were saying my name back in there.”

his head tilts to the side to point in the direction of your room and you look over on instinct, memories of the past 30 minutes flashing in your mind and causing you to forget what you were even about to say.

but when you look over to the doorway, something else catches your attention.

or someone else.

standing at the front door, snowboard in hand and ski mask pulled down to his chin, stands a mortified, and astonished mark lee.

you freeze up, and no longer from the cold chill of snow.

he has heard everything.

you’re completely fucked.

❆ ❆ ❆

pacing around the kitchen and watching as mark looks between you both, you begin to attempt to redeem yourself.

“look, mark, that wasn’t what it sounded like, me and jaemin would never.”

mark looks at you, skeptical, before turning his attention to jaemin, who stands in the back corner of the kitchen, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed as if none of this is bothering him.

mark looks back at you. “yoooo, i mean, i guess i always knew there was something off about you guys.”

you rush towards him, clutching his shoulders. “i promise you, mark, it’s not like that-”

“we’re fucking.” jaemin finally speaks, and yours and mark’s heads both whip towards him in shock. jaemin shrugs, as if it isn’t a big deal.

“jaemin.” you say sternly, “what are you doin-”

“what? he caught us, there’s no point in denying it.”

“this is unbelievable.” mark chuckles, “i gotta go tell the others.”

“no you don’t.” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm.

he rolls his eyes. “alright, but at least give me details, man. how long? when did it start? why?”

you look to jaemin, not wanting to answer for yourself.

“about a year,” he says, “and why not?”

“why not?!” mark exclaims in disbelief, “i don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re best friends? what if you end up catching-”

“not gonna happen.” says jaemin, “we dont see eachother like that, never will.”

mark only continues to laugh, “this is nuts. you guys haven’t been doing it all weekend, have you? i don’t think i wanna hear it if you guys end up getting busy while we’re all meant to be asleep.”

“nope,” you reply. “this is the first and only time we’ve done it here. we sort of made it a rule so that this wouldn’t happen.”

before you can finish your conversation, chenle walks through the door. “so what wouldn’t happen?” he says, scanning his eyes between yours and jaemin’s lack of outdoor wear compared to mark’s.

“nothing.” you reply.

“nothing?” he asks, studying mark and jaemin’s expressions.

there is a second where no one speaks, but that seems to be enough for chenle, because the next thing he says is: “you guys fucked, didn’t you?”

mark can’t keep in his smile as he tries not to laugh and give it away, but jaemin’s stern expression speaks volumes.

chenle shrugs before taking off his coat and making his way to the fridge, “ehh, was sort of obvious anyways.”

“what?” you exclaim, “how?”

his eyebrow raises as he takes a bite of the donut he had taken out its packet, “jaemin swearing off girls the same time as you breaking up with your ex, you constantly ditching our movie nights to ‘hang out with your cat,’ and jaemin suddenly changing from being an insufferable prick to actually being half nice.” jaemin lets out a laugh at the last comment. “i have more if you want me to continu-“

 “thats okay, no thank you,” you speak up, “first of all, jaemin is still an insufferable prick.”

“thanks.” jaemin butts in.

“no problem.” you turn your head to him quickly before you continue, causing the others to laugh. “and secondly, i do actually go to hang out with my cat. i love her.” you say, offended.

“whatever.” chenle replies, a judging expression on his face.

they both took the news a lot better than you thought, so you decide to let them tell jisung, who is undoubtedly the most surprised at the revelation. but jaemin’s silence throughout the whole conversation annoys you. you don’t understand why he was being so quiet about it. but when you hear mark and jaemin whispering amongst themselves while you were meant to be in the shower, your confusion peaked.

“this isn’t like you, man.” it sounded like mark’s voice.

“i know.” jaemin replied.

that’s all you heard.

for the rest of the night, you all wrap yourselves in blankets on the sofa to watch some movie that jisung wanted to watch, the fireplace emitting a radial heat and deep hue of ember, softening you into a state of tiredness, drifting off as your head rests on the hard sofa next to you.

it’s only after you wake up that you realize it is certainly not the sofa that you were lying against, but instead, jaemin’s shoulder.

you hear the melodic birdsong as it fills the air outside, the white of snow lighting up the room. or is it chenle’s hideous singing in the shower that you hear? it’s hard to tell.

breaking yourself from jaemins sleeping grasp, you get up to look out the window. you’re meant to go home today, this is supposed to be your final morning of the trip.

but as you peek your vision out the window, around 3 feet of snow covers the floor all around the cabin, the four wheels of marks camper van not even visible.

“uhm, guys..” you call out, grabbing the attention of a freshly showered chenle, a mid breakfast-making mark, a book occupied jisung and a half asleep jaemin. they all stop their various activities at the urgency in your voice, coming over to you and looking out the window for themselves.

it takes each of them about 5 minutes to process what this means; your trip is going to be extended. you are trapped.

and you may be trapped but yours and jaemins secret is very much free.

it finally hits 3pm and you realise that you have all spent the entire day enveloped in boredom, watching as the snow falls and continues to form on the ground. there is no way all this snow will clear in just a few days.

you are lucky that chenle had brought nearly double the amount of food that you needed originally, meaning all you had to do now was to sit and wait it out. 

lounging on the sofa, you listen to the smooth rhythm of chenles jazz vinyl playing on loop across the room. you’re bored, and you can’t even go outside. you can tell the others are bored too, that same expression of ‘i just want to go home now.’ plastered on all of their faces. 

but their expressions quickly flip when a knock rattles from the front door.

you all look at each other in question before collectively jumping up in sync, running at inhuman speeds to the door. you were about to be saved, removed from the shackles of dullness and provided passage back home. 

being the first to get to the door, you grab a hold of the handle, struggling in attempts to only slightly crack it open to keep the snow outside.

but when you open the door and poke your head through the crack, you’re met with a very familiar face.

hayun. also known as, jaemins long-time ‘secret’ infatuation: his crush. 

your mind shatters in disbelief as you pull the door fully open to let the other guys see who it is, no longer caring about the snow as it comes piling in.

all because the look on jaemins face is priceless.

the others all look to him to see what he’s going to say, and unsurprisingly, all he has to say is ‘hi.’ you wouldn’t expect more from him, he’s never spoken a word that exceeds a greeting to her before.

following jaemins poor attempt at an introduction, you take over.

“what are you doing here? are you okay?” you ask, genuine concern for the girl lining your voice. 

“well, i was here on a ski trip with my friends but, they all abandoned me.”

“what?” you ask. 

“and i remembered seeing a few of your guys’ instagram posts saying you were here so… i thought i’d knock.”

“wow.” mark says, “your friends suck.”

“i know. so, any chance i can stay here? i would go home but the weather isn’t exactly drivable.”

you turn to the rest of your group, concluding the pity in their faces before turning back to hayun. “of course! we don’t have a spare room and the sofa gets cold at night but i have a double bed if you don’t mind sharing.”

“thank you so much!” she grins before stepping inside and pulling you in for a hug. you cringe as you come into contact with the cold casing of her coat, the ice cool against your skin as you try not to push her off of you. 

in all honesty, you feel bad for her and you know that jaemin is about to get relentlessly bullied by the rest of the group. this was about to make your extended trip a whole lot more interesting.

it hasn’t been a long time since he developed a crush on hayun, spotting her across the other side of his lecture hall. he always gives you some excuse as to why he’s somehow never gotten a chance to speak to her, so you presume that he’s happy that he finally has. either that or completely terrified. either way, you’re happy for him.

yes, you are. you’re happy for him.

❆ ❆ ❆

a few hours pass as you show hayun around the cabin, making space for her things in your room. letting her unpack, you make your way to the front room, finding jaemin and mark on the sofa, seemingly midway through a conversation. 

“oh, don’t let me stop you.” you say, urging them to continue their talk after they cease talking at your arrival.

mark turns back to jaemin. “i think you should go for it, dude, what harm could come out of it, huh?” he says.

you’re curious, “you’re gonna ask her out?” you say to jaemin.

he smirks, “maybe, maybe not.”

somehow, something in your heart doesn’t like the idea of jaemin asking out hayun. you’re not sure if it’s the idea of you and him ending this whole ‘friends with benefits’ situation, or the fact that you’re probably going to have to step back from being his best friend, because, let’s face it, there’s no way she would ever let you stay as close as you now are if they got together.

you slap the idea out of your head; he hasn’t even asked her out yet. 

mark notices the internal battle you have with yourself. “something wrong with that, yn?”

if jaemin wasn’t here right now, blocking you from mark by sitting in between you, you one hundred percent would have punched him at that.

jaemin looks over to you, a questioning expression on his face. 

“uh.. no…” you reply, apprehensive.

“oh come on, i saw the face you just made. you’re jealous that he’s gonna be fucking someone else, aren’t you?” mark continues.

you don’t know what to say, caught off guard by the truth in marks words and the cold presence of jaemins gaze on you. 

“im not jel- “ you begin, but jaemin interrupts you. 

“yn.” he says. it’s just your name but it holds so much meaning. “am i not allowed to have a girlfriend?”

“‘course you can.” you reply, shrugging.

mark raises his eyebrow at you and you seriously consider getting up and kicking him. 

jaemin continues, “good. it's decided then. i'm gonna ask her out.” 

mark pats him on the back, laughing, “good luck, dude.”

you smile in acknowledgement as jaemin thanks mark before chenle comes in, completely changing the subject when he starts complaining about hayun’s infiltration of his ‘well organised fridge.’ 

you zone out their conversation to reassure yourself that you truly don't care that jaemin was going to try to get close to hayun, but you can't help but feel like you're about to be replaced. you always knew it was going to happen, that one day jaemin would want to settle down with a girl. but you're just so used to his playboy personality that you just never expected it to be so soon. 

amongst the endless drill of chatter, you feel a sudden glance in your direction, and as you look up, jaemins eyes suddenly divert away from you, as if he got caught looking. you want to ask him what he wants, but the silence in his demeanour tells you that you shouldn't. it's bittersweet; the end of his situation with you, marks the start of one with hayun. its a trade in which you don't want to be part of, but you fear you have no choice – only time can decide.

the rest of the day went by quickly. maybe it was because of your new addition to the vacation or simply because chenle found a cupboard full of dusty boardgames that you decided to occupy yourselves with. naturally, it was you and mark that beat everyone else at your very long, grueling game of monopoly, but that quickly flipped to jisung when you took your turns at scrabble. 

the entire time, you and mark teased jaemin relentlessly, catching glimpses as he (unwilling) took his seat next to hayun, pushed there by chenle and jisung and ending up on her team. you could tell that he was getting annoyed at you both giggling at him, but you didn't care; it only made the entire thing so much more fun. 

by the end of the night, it was time to sleep, so you and hayun took your rightful sides of the bed. it isn't the best sleeping situation, but you’d much rather sleep beside her than have to experience mark’s sweaty feet ever again. (that experience was not one that you want to remember.)

before you can switch the light off, though, you hear hayun sit up. 

“wait, yn, before we sleep…” she says, and you look at her expectantly, “can i ask you something?”

“sure.” you reply. 

she looks down, fiddling with her fingers. “Its jaemin. is he.. single?”

as if you hadn't heard her, you take a pause, processing her question. 

“yeah.” you let a laugh slip, “why? you like him?”

at your question, she giggles and her voice makes you cringe a little. 

“yes. a lot actually, it's sort of the reason why im here..”

you furrow your brow. “what do you mean?”

she takes a deep breath. “my friends never kicked me out.. i just saw that you guys were also here and, well, i thought it'd be a chance for me to get to know him.”

it's as if your ears are deceiving you, the late night tiredness of the conversation urging you to hallucinate. but it's all real, every last word of it. 

“wait, so, you lied?.. to get us to let you stay?”

she nods, and you don't know if you should pity her or hate her guts. 

because you know what it's like to be in love; you know what it's like to like someone so much to the point where you allow yourself to do stupid things. you understand. 

but that doesnt mean that you like her for it. 

“i know you probably think i'm a horrible person.” she says.

“no.. no, not at all.” you reply, and she smiles at your words. 

“thanks yn.”

you laugh back, “so, jaemin huh?”

she looks back down at her fingers, “yeah.. embarrassing right?”

you smile, not just to her, but to yourself. 

“totally.”

❆ ❆ ❆

all night, you debate with yourself over what hayun had told you. on one hand, you can't agree with what she did: lying like that. but her crush on him means that jaemin would be happy, and as his best friend, you can't take that away from him. therefore, amongst your deep pool of thought, her confession swimming in the depths of your mind, you decide that the best thing for you to do, is to hold off telling him that she lied; not only would it ruin their chances of getting together, but therefore, jaemin would only be upset that he never got the chance.

but just because you can't tell jaemin, doesn't mean you can't tell mark. 

“i really don't know what to think about her.” you say, standing in the kitchen over three pans of eggs. mark had asked you to have the task of cooking them, resorting to focus on the rest of the group's breakfast. you know it's because he can't cook eggs to save his life, but he'll never admit that.

“honestly,” he replies, “who cares if she likes jaemin? she’s a sneaky little liar.” 

you laugh, “i don't know, mark. maybe she's just really in love with him.”

“i’m not so sure about that. how could anyone ever be in love with someone who wears a hoodie saying ‘orgasm donor’ in public.”

you roll your eyes and mark continues, “well, i guess we all know who he's donating to now..”

you slap him around the arm, causing him to cackle at your rash response. 

“anyways,’ he continues, “i wont tell jaemin about it if you don't want me to.” 

you nod, “thanks, mark. oh, and you're burning the bacon by the way.”

“oh shit.”

❆ ❆ ❆

deciding that the weather still wasnt good enough to attempt to make the journey home, you all decided to stay another day. although the day was full of indiscriminate party games and full fledged boredom, you somehow managed to make it through to nightfall. 

you’re nearly drifting off to sleep when you hear a tap at the door of your’s and hayun’s room. turning over to see hayun fast asleep, you get up to see who’s there, wondering what idiot buffoon decided to wake you up at 4 o’clock in the morning. 

by means of absolutely no surprise, it’s a disheveled jaemin, hair sticking up in about seven different directions and a crumpled tshirt that rises ever so slightly above his pyjama pants waistline, exposing skin that you do not have the energy to be fawning over. although, that’s exactly what you’re doing.

assuming that he’s here to finally break the news to hayun in some twisted, sensual late night confession, you turn your back to jaemin to call her name. in noticing what you’re about to do, jaemin reaches an arm around your waist, pulling you close enough to him that the palm of his other hand can cover your mouth. 

“will you shut up?” you don't need to see his face to know he's rolling his eyes, “this isn't exactly something i want her to see.”

oh.

he lets go of you, spinning you round to face him by your shoulders. he’s done this before: knocking on your door in the dead of night when he needs you. but you never expected him to do it here. not after your conversation with mark a few days ago, and certainly not whilst his crush was staying in your room. it all seems so bizarre. 

but you weren't going to say no. 

❆ ❆ ❆

the next morning, you realise that you had completely and utterly fucked up. 

the warmth of jaemin next to you remains, his arm slung lazily over the front of your stomach. you expect to open your eyes to jaemins ceiling back at home, but to much avail, you are very much still on vacation.

and you had four pairs of eyes staring down on you both to prove that. 

you jump out of jaemin’s hold immediately, causing him to slowly stir before mumbling something incoherent into the sheets. when he finally realises the situation you’re in, he takes the pillow beside his head, pushing it into his face. 

“you promised you wouldn't do it here, man.” mark starts. but your focus isn't on him, it's on hayun. 

and she's livid.

you turn the attention of your words to her. “im sorry. i should have told you.”

jaemin finally gets up, picking up his discarded shirt off the ground and pulling it over his head before sitting back on the end of the bed. 

hayun eyes him for any form of an apologetic sense, but he gives off nothing, and you fear this only makes her angrier.

your fear is proven correct when she suddenly snaps at you, “you knew i liked him and you still went and did this behind my back?”

at her words, the mood in the room suddenly shifts. what was an atmosphere of laughter and mischief at them catching you and jaemin together, is now suddenly a room of tension, a room that you no longer want to be in. 

but it's jaemins reaction that formulates the world's most unfortunate predicament. 

his head turns to you, a look of disappointment and what seems to be hurt, plastered on his face. “she likes me? and you hid it from me?”

you don't know what else to say, so you just tell him the truth. “yes, but it's not that simpl-”

“i don't care, yn.” he gets up, pushing past chenle to the bathroom before shutting the door behind him. 

fuck. you’ve messed up.

but one thing is nagging at you: jaemin seems to care far more about the fact that you hid the truth from him than what the truth actually entailed. you tell yourself he’s probably just embarrassed. either that or just completely and utterly in denial about it. either way, he’s acting strange; he should be happy, not angry. 

the entire day, jaemin didn’t utter a single word to you. as for hayun, she had been hidden away in your room, not speaking to a single person and avoiding any opportunity to accidentally bump into you. you did feel bad, you should have told her about it the second that she confessed her feelings for jaemin to you. but you had assumed from jaemin’s previous conversation with you, that you were calling it off, jaemin seeming pretty aware about the fact that she was now here. how were you supposed to predict him rocking up to your room at 4am?

anyhow, you spent the day with mark, discussing the ending of titanic and eating way too much chocolate to be healthy. when night came once more, you decided that it probably wasn't the best idea to go back to your room, scared about facing the wrath of the girl who resided in it. instead, after washing up in the bathroom, you make your way to the sofa in the front room. 

your actions are halted when you hear voices coming from the other side of jaemin’s door. you know you shouldn't eavesdrop on a private conversation, but you can’t help yourself. 

you register the second voice as mark as you get close enough to hear them clearer, just enough until you can hear what they're saying.

your heart hurts in your chest when you do. 

“i'm still going to ask her out, even with things the way they are.” you hear jaemin whisper. 

it's like a sudden shot to the chest. this is exactly what you feared from the very beginning, this is exactly what you trusted jaemin enough not to do. 

he’s choosing her over his best friend; he’s choosing her over you. 

trying to remain as quiet as possible, you continue your journey to the sofa, pain causing you to wince with every footstep – he's leaving you behind.

as you lie on the sofa, the chill air of the cabin surrounding you despite the presence of the fireplace, forcing you to wrap the blanket around you tighter, you struggle to bring yourself to sleep. but when you hear footsteps from the kitchen, you peek your head over the back of the sofa to see who’s there. 

at your movement, the culprit looks up from their snack-making and their eyes meet yours.

“jaemin?” you whisper, “why are you awake?”

“hungry.” he turns back, working on spreading the peanut butter onto his bagel. “what are you doing sleeping out here? it's way too cold.”

you stand up, making your way to the kitchen to stand behind him, blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you shiver from the frost. “i don’t think hayun likes me right now.” you say.

jaemin turns to face you, biting into his bagel. “i wonder why.” he says sarcastically, mouth half-full. you hate to admit it, but he looks incredibly alluring, he always does in the middle of the night. 

you hate the fact that he’s acting this way with you, dismissive and persistent, but he has every right, you hid so much from him, and you hurt him in the process. 

you’re at war with yourself, but in all honesty you know that you were in the wrong; for your friendship to work, you need to tell him everything. everything.

“actually,” you start, taking a deep breath, “there’s something you don't know.”

jaemin’s interest in the conversation suddenly spikes, looking for you to continue. 

“hayun… she.. wasn’t actually abandoned by her friends.”

“what?”

“the night she told me she liked you, she also told me that she ditched her friends because she saw that we were here. she lied about them kicking her out so that we would feel bad and let her stay, so that then she could finally get her chance to talk to you.” you pause, attempting to read jaemin’s face but failing, getting nothing from his expression. “i should have told you, but i didn't want you to get hurt. instead… i did exactly that. i'm sorry, jaemin, really.”

when you finish speaking, you notice as jaemin’s lips slightly curl into a smile before dropping back to his cold demeanor, and it makes you question whether you really saw it or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you. 

“yn..” he trails off, whatever he wants to say interrupted by your sudden panic in not wanting to embarrassing yourself.

you ramble, scared that he won't accept your apology. “but like you said to mark earlier, if you still want to ask her out, that's fin-”

“wait, what?” jaemin says, moving from his position leaning against the counter to stand upright. 

“i, um, heard you and mark talking earlier about how you were still going to ask her out despite everything..” you say. 

jaemin laughs to himself and you grow confused. “oh, yn.” he says. 

“what? what’s so funny?”

“you never did get my hints, did you.”

your heart freezes in your throat, the cold weather no longer chilling you but instead the bitter taste of jaemin’s words as they formulate in your brain. 

he continues, noticing your confusion. “it was never her that i had a crush on. it was never her that i was planning to ask out.”

you’re struggling to breath, each intake of oxygen getting caught in your chest. 

“yeah, i thought she was kinda pretty when i first saw her across my lecture a few months ago, but that was long before i fell for who i really wanted.” he smiles, inching closer to you. “and after everyone found out that i was sleeping with you, i decided that there was no longer an excuse for me to hide my feelings.” he takes a hold of your hand, looking down at it as he plays with your fingers. “i was starting to get pretty pissed that you wouldn’t pick up any of my hints, you know? you can’t even imagined how embarrassed i was to find out that it was because you were trying to play cupid for me and someone else.”

your mind is vacant, filled with the epiphany of his words as they resonate in your head, playing a tune of melancholic rhythm as it twists into an allegro.

“but… the rule.” you say. 

jaemin chuckles, “i think we stopped caring about those rules a while ago, yn. i know i did. ”

you’re no longer cold, jaemins warmth radiating against you like the blissful aura of a flame, attracting you and drawing you closer. 

it was then that you realised that you haven't said anything to equate his long speech, but words can do nothing to describe the way that you’re feeling. its as if someone had approached you with a mirror, brutally displaying each of your own hidden thoughts and projecting them back at you. because every single word that jaemin muttered, you found deep within yourself. it all clicks, perfectly and irrevocably, into place. your jealousy, your embarrassment, your stupidity. 

your love. 

instead of attempting to sum up all of your feelings into words, you do the one thing that will live up to the emotions that reside within you. taking not a single moment to prepare yourself, you lean closer to him, his eyes finding your lips. you nod, its small but the gesture means so much. it's an agreement, a sealing of mutual understanding. it's slow and it's incredibly gentle as his lips greet yours, soft in a way unlike ever before. kisses between you and jaemin were always the result of lust, of stupidity. but now, it's the result of something far greater. 

it’s love. 

❆ ❆ ❆

when the sun rises above the horizon, you leap from jaemin’s bed, him giggling at your eagerness. 

“oh my god, it's finally clear!!” you yell, waking up each of the boys with your burst of excitement. you could finally go home. 

the morning consisted of three major revelations. one: you all contacting hayun’s friends, watching as they dragged her into their car to drive her home. two: discovering that chenle had only showered once throughout the entire holiday (you all started placing bids as to who gets to not sit next to him on the journey back.) and three: witnessing the boys’ reactions to your’s and jaemins new secret. 

“i knew you’d do it, dude.” mark said, attempting to fist bump jaemin in the most cringe-worthy interaction you’ve ever seen in your life. jisung and chenle however, were completely baffled, and it took about thirty minutes of explaining for them to understand that it was you that jaemin had a crush on, and not hayun. you’re still convinced that jisung doesn't understand.

once you had all packed your things, you grabbed your suitcases, standing in the porch as chenle locked the front door for the final time. 

“im going to miss this place.” mark says, exaggerating an act of sadness as he clutches his chest. 

“im not,” chenle replies, “i’ve never been so bored in my entire fucking life.”

“it’s been fun.” you say, smiling.

jaemin’s voice comes from next to you. “eh, could have been better.” 

you turn to him in offence. 

he continues, “i'm just saying, i never got to actually snowboard.”

“are you suggesting what i think you’re suggesting…?” mark replies, looking around the group and meeting similar grins and looks of hopefulness. 

jaemin shrugs, “i dont know, am i?”

as if on cue, you all drop your suitcases in the snow, laughter and coils of happiness springing between you as you run to the shed behind the cabin for one last time. 

no other winter ski trip ever got near to living up to that one. 

not even close. 

[twddixonn]

Stay

Daryl Dixon x Reader one shot

desc: If I had asked you to stay, would you have?

wc: 3.074k

warnings/tags: not proof read!!! (I’m so sorry I never have the patience to re-read) very slight swearing, slight(?)angst

‘Everything changed that day.

The day Rick blew up the bridge to save his family, his friends - the other community’s.

We all mourned; for a man that might not even be dead.

The changes were slow at first, no one knew what to do.

I thought our family broke the day we lost Glenn and Abraham, the day we could have lost Daryl. The day that could have been our last.

The day we lost Carl.

But then we lost rick.

Dead or alive.

We lost him.

Michonnes screams still ring in my ears at times, the kind of times where everything gets to quiet and there’s no escape from it.

The expressions that glued on to everyone’s faces like a still image at the front of my mind when I try to sleep.

And then it was over.’

Slamming your diary shut, chucking it in some random drawer on your desk: you leaned back on your chair blowing a stray hair out of your face, staring at a drawing Judith and Rj did of you and uncle Daryl.

Over time, you slowly withdrew yourself from the others.

Nothing was the same anymore, Rick wasn’t around to keep everything in check and keep everyone together and gradually - everyone split for the most part.

Maggie left, leaving with Georgie in hopes of building a new community.

Michonne was mourning the love of her life, whilst bringing up Judith and Rj; the son Rick never got the chance to know about.

Carol and Ezekiel ruled over the kingdom.

Daryl left to go find his brother.

So you kept to yourself and mourned not only Rick, but your family too.

Three knocks sounded outside your room alerting your attention and snapping you back into reality yet again.

“Coming.” You acknowledged whoever was standing on the other side of that door.

Sighing you stood up and walked over taking a grip on the door handle before pulling it open, “What?” You snapped.

Carols eyes gleamed at you as she spoke with a small smile on her lips, “Hm, pleased to see you too Y/N”

“Shit, sorry. I didn’t know it was you.” You gave a thin lipped smile back to her.

“It’s fine. Come with me.” Before you could protest she grabbed your wrist and begun to drag you downstairs, heading straight to the front door and grabbing a backpack on the way.

“What are you doing? Are you going somewhere?” Why did she drag you down and out the house if she was just going to be leaving so quick?

“No.” She stated.

“No?”

“No, I’m not going somewhere. We are. Grab your stuff. Let’s go” Carols little grin never leaving her face.

You’d like to say you’re surprised at her bluntness and secrecy but she’s always had this side to her, she just knows how and when to play it.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You’d been walking for a while, thoughts racing through your mind on what Carol could be up too: what little plan she’s concocted this time round.

You can’t remember the last time you actually saw her. It was rare for her to visit Alexandria and when she did you were always cooped up in your room or out helping with whatever was asked of you.

She never came to Alexandria unless she was-

“Stop.” You tried to assert dominance in your voice, yet the slight crack as you spoke didn’t seem very convincing.

“Stop walking Carol. I know what we’re doing out here. I need you to tell me why.” It was more of a statement than a question at this point.

She halted the second time round you spoke, muttering something to herself along the lines of ‘shit’ before turning and giving a smile, although it shared more resemblance to a grimace.

The kind of look a child gives to their parent after they’ve been caught doing something they definitely shouldnt be doing.

“Y/N.. I had to do something. You need to see him” She sounded exasperated.

“I had to do something because you haven’t. After everything we all went through.

You shut down on us.

You wouldn’t come out your room unless someone asked you for help with something.

You barely speak.

You just hide away, not letting anyone even attempt to get back in.

You let Daryl leave. You didn’t even try to stop him! You let him continue with these.. these sick delusions that Rick is still out there somewhere. You love him, and you still let him leave.”

Carols never been one to be afraid to say what she thinks: although never with you.

“You think I wanted things to be this way? I shut myself away because you left.

Maggie left. Michonne lost herself. I stepped back because it was the right thing to do at the time, furthermore it was still the right thing to do after the time passed.” Drawing in an uneven breath, you continued -

“I also didn’t let Daryl leave. He left because it’s what he wanted. You know as well as I do, had I of tried to convince him to stay, it would have been pointless. He believes his brothers out there so he went looking for him! Just like you believed Sophia was out there and we went looking for her!” Panic struck you as you realised what you had said in your last sentence, how could you be so cruel to bring up a woman’s dead daughter?

Carol let out a puff of air before placing her hand on your forearm and then dragging you into her arms, almost cradling you.

“I know you didn’t mean it. It’s okay. But we’re going to see Daryl and that’s final.” She backed up slightly, a hand cupping your jaw as she whispered, “You don’t deserve to lose the man you love, not in a world like this.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Anxiety.

It’s the only thing you could feel as you neared closer to the river Carol was due to meet Daryl at. You hadn’t seen him in.. you couldn’t even remember how long it had truly been.

All you remember was the day he packed his bag and announced he was heading out to look for Rick, entire belief filled with Rick being alive.

He came to see you before he left.

Explained why he was going: not saying how long he’d be gone.

You can still remember the feeling of his hands on your waist as he pulled you into his body, his head in the crook of your neck as tears lined up on your waterline; you remember making sure he didn’t see them fall.

You remember the way he leaned back to look at you, one hand still on your waist with the other trailing up to the back of your head as his eyes bored into yours before eventually looking all over your face- avoiding your eyes the second time round.

The way his intense stare ended up on your lips for just maybe a couple of seconds too long for this to be considered only a friendship.

You can remember his face inching closer almost as if he was going to stop fighting the thoughts in his head and finally kiss you; but it never came.

His hands left your head, left your waist.

Then he was gone.

That was the last time you saw Daryl.

Carol stopped walking and glanced back at you, noticing the distant stare and she could tell you were deep in thought, thinking of him.

“Why are you stopping? Come on! We’re pretty much here.”

A few more steps forward with your head bowed down, you saw the river edge right before your feet.

Bracing yourself to hear his voice.

It never came.

“Let’s go. He’s not here but he has to be around somewhere, his stuff’s still lying about.” Before you could complain and make the suggestion of heading back, Carols hand had yet again found its way to your wrist and she was dragging you behind her, determined to find him.

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“Hands up. Who are you and what are you doing on my property?”

Carol came to a quick halt, you bumping into her back as she dropped your wrist and slowly raised her hands, glancing at you with her eyes telling you to follow her actions.

You raised your hands right as the woman repeated her earlier questions.

You could practically hear the cogs turning in Carols brain before she decided to take on a familiar role, the role of the innocent helpless lady she’s played many times before -

“Pl- please don’t.. don’t shoot us. We don’t have anything on us. J-just trying to find a friend. We’ll leave, right now.. we’ll go. Just please.. d-don’t hurt us.”

You fought hard to not chuckle at her.

How couldn’t you?

She plays it so well.

“What’s goin’ on?”

Anything that was going to come out of your mouth, whether it be words or just air; got stuck.

He’s here.

He’s safe.

He looks healthy.

He looks.. happier.

“Y/N? Carol?” Daryl couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He’d seen Carol on and off since he left Alexandria, of course he had; she’s his best friend. Who else would care more than his best friend to keep bringing him supplies?

Seeing Y/N however, had him dumbfounded.

The look of rage the lady holding the shotgun at you and Carol had, never seem to let up before she spoke again.

“You know these people?”

“Yeah, s’my family.” He muttered to her.

Maybe this really was a mistake.

You shouldn’t have come.

Raising an eyebrow at you both, the woman whispered to Daryl then turned her back and headed inside, not without shooting you and Carol one last glare.

“Who’s ‘little miss I’m gonna shove a gun in random people’s faces and give relentless attitude until they tell me what I demand to know from them’?” Carols voice taking on a higher pitch as she mimicked the stranger.

This time you couldn’t hold back on the chuckle that left your lips.

Daryl’s eyes shot over to you, making you put your head back down and shove Carol slightly to make her talk as you hoped to just blend into the background again.

“Came to bring you stuff.” She chucked the bag at his feet before continuing on, “You were supposed to be at the river but obviously you had.. better plans. So we just followed the paths that looked most used and here we are. Surprise! Excited?” Sarcasm dripping from her voice the longer she spoke to him.

No one made any attempt to move or speak, so Carol spoke up again,

“I need to go for a pee. I’ll be back.” Her hand landing on your shoulder, her eyes looking into yours practically begging you to at least try and talk to him.

“How-“

“Is-“

You both began to speak at the same time.

You took this as the opportunity to quickly spit out some words, make him talk first to ease the tension.

“Sorry. You first.”

“How’re yer doin’?” It was a murmur, but it was something from him.

“I’m-“ taking a slight pause, debating between telling him the absolute truth or just making up a load of bullshit, the latter being more appealing.

“I’m good. Thanks. How about you?”

“Good. I’m a’right. I’m still searching. I ain’t givin’ up. Not till I find ‘im” Daryl was fiddling with his fingers, a telltale sign to you that he was just as nervous as you were.

He nodded his head towards a little bench, signalling you to sit with him.

Your mind is telling you to run as fast as you can, escape this situation before it’s too late.

Your feet move before you can take notice of your mind.

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The silence was beginning to grow deafening. Carol was yet to return, you knew she wasn’t going to though.

Not until you and Daryl had a somewhat decent, somewhat truthful conversation.

She was probably crouched down in one of the many bushes surrounding you, eavesdropping on everything you’re yet to say to one another.

“Are you any closer? To finding him? Finding anything?” The question slipped out before you could stop it.

Truth is, you weren’t certain you wanted to know.

Either way it would end in shit creek somehow.

A grunt left Daryl, “Nah. I ain’t gonna stop till I do tho.”

All you could do was nod in acknowledgment to him.

“How’s Alexandria? Michonne ‘n the kids? Yerself?.”

How were you expected to answer this?

He’d already asked you about yourself before, why again?

You stammered over your words before sighing and deciding you may as well be honest,

“It’s fine.. I guess. I don’t really see Michonne much nowadays. The kids are great, they come see me every so often usually with a new drawing or some fun new fact Judith read in one of her homework books. Sometimes they come to see me just to see if I’m okay.” You couldn’t help but sign again.

“Tha’s good. Least the kids are okay. Y’self? Y’never answered me.”

Daryl adored those kids so much. You could only imagine how much he must miss them. Miss his home, though you’re certain he doesn’t class it as that anymore.

“Fine.” What else could you say?

“Jus’ fine?”

“I’m alive, aren’t I? That classes as fine in my books.”

“Missed yer sarcasm, missed ya.”

Daryl’s confession of missing you made your heart thump the strongest it has in a long time, before it plummeted to your stomach and presented itself as a nauseous feeling.

“You seem like you’re doing well. Got a hot new girlfriend huh?” God, you tried to crack a smile and seem like you were happy for him but the words seemed to burn your throat as they rose up and scorched your lips the minute they left.

Daryl instantly noticed the disdain you had to the words that came from your own mouth.“Nah, s’not like tha’.”

His accent came out thicker in just that short sentence. Was he lying to you, to reserve your own feelings from getting hurt? To stop you getting upset with him?

“Oh. Keeping your bed warm then.”

Once those words left your mouth you began to doubt yourself.

Perhaps you should have adjusted your tone as you spoke; made it more of a question.

“No. It’s.. s’complicated s’all.”

Daryl found his mind wandering, stirring up all the things he wishes to say.

He used to see you every morning, go on a run for supplies and come back with numerous different stories to tell you.

Even made some of them up just to have an excuse to talk to you for longer.

Now he hasn’t seen you in so so long and he’s completely jammed up. Can’t find anything to say that will make this situation better.

“Can I ask you something?” It was now or never for you. You knew you’d most likely not see him again for an incredibly long time, if at all. So it seemed like the right time to ask him what’s been playing on your mind.

He hummed at you, edging you to continue with whatever you wanted to ask me.

You were so sure of what you were about to say, but hesitation still snuck in on you from every angle.

“The day you left. When.. when you held me at my door. Did.. were..” you trailed off, you felt so fucking stupid asking him, regret for even bringing it up.

“G’on”

Now or never. “Were you going to kiss me?”

He stayed silent. Just like that day, his eyes went everywhere but your eyes.

Fidgeting with his hands again, trying to figure out what he wanted to say.

“I thought ‘bout it.” He thought about it every minute he was with you; every minute he wasn’t with you.

“Wanted to.” Wanted it like nothing else.

“I ain’t think it was the right thing to do.”

It was the right thing. He knows that.

“Why?” It’s all you could manage. You were so thankful to be sat, your knees felt weak and you’re half convinced your legs turned into literal jelly.

“Knew ya’d follow me. Couldn’t have you out ‘ere. S’not safe, ain’t wanna risk yer safety.”

“Oh.” It was all you could manage. You should have said more, you *know* you should have.

And yet you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“Makes sense. At least I know now.” You couldn’t add anything further at this point.

You wanted the conversation about this over with.

You wanted him to kiss you now to make up for it. For him to come back with you. Despite you knowing it would never happen.

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“Phew. Such a long journey for such a short toilet trip.” Carols way of announcing she was back - she had never left - broke you and Daryl out of what ever trance you were in.

“What did I miss?”

You stood up abruptly, losing your balance slightly as you did so. Daryl’s hand made its way to your waist to steady you, just like it did the day he left.

“We need to go. It was good to see you.”

You pulled away from him, grabbing your bag and chucking it over your shoulder.

Carol raises a brow at you before saying a short goodbye to Daryl and giving him a hug, telling him when she’d roughly be back with more supplies.

You began to walk off, wanting nothing more than to get back to your own personal safe haven in Alexandria.

Also before you opened your mouth and blurted something out yet again.

“Y/N”

Turning around, Daryl took a couple steps closer to you, pulling you in for a hug.

Head in the crook of your neck, you could have sworn he inhaled the scent of your hair, your skin; something.

“Be safe m’kay? Y’can come whenever ya wanna.”

Your heart throbbed. You nodded at him, despite knowing the truth yourself; you wouldn’t be back.

You both stepped back, maybe it was more on your part because you needed to escape this situation.

Carol walked ahead. You went to follow in pursuit.

“Daryl?”

“Mhm?”

“Back then. If I had asked you to stay, would you have?”

“Y’never asked. Guess we ain’t ever gonna know.”

He knows.

He would have stayed.

Times like these he thinks he should have.

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authors note!: hi! If you made it this far I hope you enjoyed it!:) I got more into this one compared to the first fic I posted (hence why there’s a bit more effort with a banner photo and such!) feedback is welcome, I’m always looking for ways to improve! Thank you all :-)

[typicalopposite]

Please give an update on Hopes & Fears. Amazing writing 👏

Here you go fren! 🫶🫶🫶

“So you liked the movie?” Tommy asks, because he could continue to argue about whether he should have been kicked from bed or not, but Evan is still rubbing circles into his exposed belly and it feels nice… so he changes the subject instead. 

“I did!” Evan exclaims, and he seems genuinely serious about it. “I, uh— I actually watched it twice,” he adds, dipping his head and smiling bashfully. 

“Twice?!”

“A- And not to mention what I saw with you before I restarted it…” he continues, and Tommy furrows his brows confused. “Oh… after you fell asleep I started it over so I could give it my full attention… I— I’m really glad because I was missing vital scenes like you said— which… you were half asleep so you probably don’t remember saying that— but I didn’t want to miss anything so—” 

“You restarted it…” Tommy wishes he had better control over the awe in his voice… or the tears in his damned tear ducts… because he’d love to not become overly emotional about this. 

Evan smiles softly, and nods. “I— I figured we could talk about it once you were up… but you slept in, and— and then this little gymnast woke up—” he laughs and rubs at the spot on Tommy’s belly where the baby seems to be trying to escape. “So I just started talking to them about it, while we waited for you to wake up and join us…” The baby rolls and kicks, as if agreeing. “They really seem to enjoy my impersonation of Vicinni’s—” 

He leans in close to the bump and gives a very accurate inconceivable and the baby kicks back towards his face. Tommy can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him at Evan quoting the famous line, causing the baby to move even more as his belly is jostled around from the laughter. It all makes Evan laugh too, spreading his hand out wide over Tommy’s belly— over their child— and then he suddenly leans in and presses his lips to the bump. 

They both freeze, and the laughter stops. 

“I— I am so sorry…” Evan gasps, pushing away from Tommy. “I can’t believe I just did that.” He starts to move across the bed and Tommy grabs his hand—

“Wait…” he says. “It— it’s fine; really…” Evan looks ready to protest, but Tommy stops him. “This is your child, Evan… you are allowed to show affection to them, I— I don’t mind.” 

“Are you sure?” Evan asks, already moving back towards Tommy. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” 

“I won’t,” Tommy quickly assures him… And he won’t… in all honesty. It makes him happy that he is able to give this to Evan, and that Evan is happy and wants to bond with their child; if Tommy gets to pretend the moments of affection extend to him as well in the process… that’s his own heartache to deal with after the baby is born. 

So, Evan gently shifts himself back to lying beside Tommy’s belly, he brings his hand back up to rest against it, and presses another kiss right where the baby is pushing a knee out. “I love you,” he says softly, and receives an equally soft kick in return. “We both do…” he gives a quick glance up to Tommy, and smiles.

Tommy feels like a boulder is lodged in his throat. He wonders if the baby knows he loves them as well… it’s not like he has ever said it before… Why has he never said it before?

Memories of a young Tommy telling his dad he loved him to only get a grunt or mean remark in return— or just to be ignored completely— overthrow the sweetness of Evan continuing to tell their child how much they both care… 

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Evan asks, and Tommy desperately tries to blink back tears. 

“Uh, yeah… Yeah— I’m just… hungry. Are you hungry?” He is (finally) pushing himself up from the bed— away from Evan… He just— He needs to get away from Evan before he starts sobbing like an idiot and looks like he actually doesn’t like the attention the baby is being given. “I’m gonna go make us some breakfast.” 

Thankfully Evan’s stomach uses the moment to growl loudly… thankfully he doesn’t insist on trying to hobble into the kitchen to help Tommy make the breakfast…

Thankfully Tommy is able to get all the emotions out before he returns with the food.

[thecoolerliauditore]

I can’t exactly remember the post or tags but you mentioned something about how fandom treats popular au’s and their creators, would you ever go into that topic in further detail? I’m intrigued with your opinions on fandom and your takes but if that’s something you don’t want to get into then I understand. Random anon signing out.

I've vagued about it quite a lot because it's a topic very interesting to me in line with the rest of the fandom meta discourse-y stuff I find very fascinating to observe unfold.

I don't think I'll ever be deep-diving on it and naming all the who's who because I fear sounding like t*rkey t*m 🤢 or someone else adjacent and I doubt many artists/writers would feel completely at ease with me making judgments on how they use their platforms or unintentionally cultivate fandom culture even if it's not coming from a malicious place (<-- trust me when I say this that no fandom person I've namedropped on here is anyone I can say I dislike. Like with what I mentioned about how I'll never post about an SMP I genuinely don't have at least somewhat positive feelings towards, if I don't like someone I'll just not mention their name at all cus doing otherwise is unproductive imo unless it's a serious situation).

I'll be honest I wrote much much more but it all ended up getting wildly away from me. In short though I think the problem mostly lies in the fandom fearing itself. Too many people are too scared to do anything genuine out of fear of not being inoffensive enough, which I think is wild considering what we are doing is inherently already transgressive to anyone outside of the fandom -- please if you have the opportunity, try explaining joelshipping to an irl who doesn't care about mcyt, it's an amazing bonding exercise.

It's difficult because, on some level, if you are marked as a Big Artist you kind of lose the ability to be not inoffensive in this fandom. It's this horrible loop of self-censorship that maintains itself by making sure it goes unchallenged.

And this might be a mean thing to say but. I think a lot of New Fandom exists almost purely out of reaction to the Old Fandom and a lot of it feels.. very cynical? I think when you engage with the series as a narrative, it's more or less unavoidable that some uncomfortable themes pop up when you take the murder game as a serious setting, but as time goes on and more and more of those uncomfortable themes become vegetables hidden in a child's dish rather than stated outright, the narrative as a whole becomes left to the wayside and all that remains is this shell that somewhat mimics having things to say. I just think there's something to be said about how somewhere during SL every popular sentiment suddenly got shot down with "not everything has to be about that!" with no one offering any real alternative. and that's become so prevalent in WL fanon that even enaging with the leftover SHELL of narrative (the celestial body thing) is seen as cringe and everything has to now be layered in irony.

One weird exception I will mention is that Scott/Pearl becoming acknowledge-able as a ship is a weird turn of events and I genuinely did not expect it but their culture is. weird and unique lmao I wrote a thing before that I deleted about Smallidarity and how queerness is central to fanon but also you can only engage with it in this sanctioned for safe consumption kinda way (see: the old discourse about the "yaoi-fication of scarian" and joelshipping) that would've been really good here but whatever man. Majormoon becoming the new toxic FH discourse was not on the bingo card but holy fuck I am intrigued

[mjrtaurus]

"Where's my other grandma?"

Gabe asks Crocodile this one day when they're reading together in the drawing room. He really shouldn't have been surprised. That particular query was bound to come up at some point, especially since Urpi's been dropping by. If this were a few months ago, he might have shut down or snapped at the boy, but Crocodile is not keen on repeating that mistake. But he also can't lie to his son.

"She passed away, hayati. She's been gone for a long time"

"Oh," he's quiet for a bit as he absent-mindedly tugs at the carpet for a minute "Did someone make a clone of her?"

Croc has to take a deep breath at that. It's not Gabe's fault in the slightest, but they really need to sit him and Gryphon down at some point and explain that regardless of what the Vegapunks cook up in their labs, cloning is not an undo-button for death. There are things and people that truly are lost for good. But that's besides the point.

"I highly doubt it. She died a long time ago and wasn't someone the World Government would have taken notice of ("at least not for that reason" is what's left unsaid)."

"Oh... what was she like?"

Hell if he knows. His mother perished before he had left the haze of infancy, and in a way that was slow and torturous. Of course he doesn't tell Gabe the last part but he's honest once more about being just as in the dark on the details as his son. Well, he did know some things.

"She had hair like mine. And there were patches of her skin that glimmered like jewels. I think they might have been fishman scales"

"Like ours?"

Ours? What could he possibly mean by that?

When he asks, Gabe climbs up on the couch and lifts his shirt sleeve so Crocodile can see the tiniest little patch of lime-green scales growing right under the transparent tube of green blood.

"You have some on your neck next to your bumpies. I saw them when you were carrying me to bed last night. We match! 😊"

(Gabe calls scutes 'bumpies' and I just find that really cute)

“… What… happened to her, Baba?” It’s asked cautiously. There’s something in Gabe that’s always felt uneasy and upset when thinking about this branch of the family tree. He can’t place it, but it all just feels sad.

And maybe that’s why he’s asking about it.

What can Crocodile even say? How can he even explain?

“Hayati… you know how Tayta loves me? How he’s there for me if I’m hurt or sick, or even if it’s just to be there?” Okay, strong start. Let’s hope the comparison he’s setting up actually works.

“Yeah?” Gabe says expectantly, star-bright eyes wide.

“My father- not Pops, just to be clear- wasn’t like that for my mother. He was… not nice to her. Did bad things to her. And to me. He… didn’t love either of us.” He spoke carefully, riding the line between not wanting to sugarcoat and not wanting to distress.

“When I was four, she got very sick… and he wouldn’t help her. One night I feel asleep next to her, and when I woke up… she didn’t. I never even knew her name.” He remembers the rattle of her breath, how her scales and scutes slowly but surely lost their iridescent luster, how her hair had thinned. How still she was… too still…

Gabe looked at him as if what he was saying was the most alien thing he’d ever heard. Crocodile lays a kiss on his brow, and holds him close.

The silence is heavy, but Gabe’s tears haven’t come just yet. He can tell from the quiet that his son is putting pieces of some bigger picture together.

“…Is that why Vang covers his eyes?” The boy asks, resting his head on his father’s shoulder. He sounds… sad.

“It’s part of it…” Crocodile sighs, carding his fingers through starlight silver hair. “Though not all.”

There’s more to Rocks D Xebec than being a horrible partner and father. Much, much more. But for tonight, that’s enough to chew on.

To divert the conversation, he looks over the little scutes and scales that had cropped up on Gabe’s arm. They were new. Very new. Possibly the cause for the irritable streak the child had been having these last few days. And the voracious appetite.

They are very uniform and healthy, like little plates of bright green armor. Crocodile remembers how his had come in a little wonky, with plenty of uneven edges. He takes it as a comfort, knowing Gabe was far healthier and happier than he had been at his age.

Come to think of it, Crocodile’s had only come in when he was sixteen. He imagines early life malnourishment and eventually running out of puberty blockers had something to do with it.

“They itch when they come in, don’t they?” He asks, scarred lips turned into a lopsided smile.

“They feel like feathers, ‘cept more.”

[save-the-villainous-cat]

"Surely, there must be a reason for your visit," the villain purred. They put their elbows on the table and their head on their hands, cupping their own cheeks. "Unfortunately, I don't believe you're visiting just to see my pretty face."

The hero cocked their head.

"Why not?"

The villain looked effortlessly attractive. They always did, but today from this angle, in this pose, with those clothes…The hero’s brain betrayed them over and over again. Every now and then, their thoughts circled around their nemesis, even if they didn’t get to see each other that week.

Or perhaps, especially then.

"Because you only ever show up when you want something from me," the villain said. Although their smirk was of flirty nature and although their hand was reaching for the hero again, the disappointment in their voice didn't go by unnoticed.

It was true. In the same sense that avoiding eating the forbidden fruit was true.

The villain touched the hero's shoulder. "...you got some lint here..."

It was a poor excuse to touch them, but the hero preferred it when their nemesis had to justify it. They preferred building walls around themselves and denying this part of their personality — this horrible part that wanted the villain.

They enjoyed the flirting. The soft touches. But there couldn't be more than that.

"You know I'm busy," the hero murmured. They grabbed the villain's wrist before they could pull back their arm. "But I can totally understand if you miss me. I will arrange something."

"You make me sound desperate."

"Aren't you desperate for me?"

"Oh, please. As if I want you in that way," the villain said. Under the table, their foot was already trying to find a way to the hero's bare shins, contradicting their words easily.

Admittedly, the hero couldn't help but feel guilty. It was true that they had come to the villain once again to beg for information. It was also true that they avoided them unless it was absolutely necessary.

It was a stupid habit. A pathetic one. Something the hero had picked up in their childhood, something that had manifested when they had decided to become a hero.

No one was allowed to get too close. Least of all their supposed nemesis. Even if that nemesis wasn't a threat on the battlefield anymore. For now.

They couldn't recall when the flirting had started. The villain had always been someone very talkative, someone who could talk for hours. And apparently, in some way, this had rubbed off on them.

"Everyone in this city wants me in that way," the hero mumbled.

And it surprised even themselves that they’d said it out loud. For whatever reason, they tried to get some jealousy out of the villain. It wasn't fair to the villain, the hero knew that. It wasn't fair to flirt and make all sorts of promises, just to disappoint them in the end.

The hero was a mess, they could admit that much. People getting too close always hurt.

It was always too painful.

"I suppose they want all the perfect parts of you. The flawlessness." The villain smiled and swayed their head from left to right. The hero looked at them, trying to ignore their increasing heartbeat. "I bet no one wants all those ugly details. All those late nights, those bloody hands, that emotionless shell around you…"

Suddenly, the hero's eyes widened.

They hadn't come here to be humiliated. Or to be insulted. They knew they very far from—

"But, just so you know. If I was into you and if I wanted you in that way, I'd adore those parts. I would adore and cherish them. Because I would have chosen you with every single thing that comes with you." The villain winked and the hero's throat dried out. "You are not closer to perfection than any other human being. And I am probably the only person in this city who not only notices but also accepts this."

The hero's hand was in theirs and they led it to their lips, pressing a soft kiss to their enemy's knuckles.

The hero couldn't think. They couldn't…could not really…

"But we were talking about something else, were we not?" the villain asked.

The hero couldn't answer. They felt like crying.

"The information you wanted?"

"Oh…yeah, yes. Sorry. Long night."

Both of them knew that was a very cheap lie.

[fisherrprince]

I laughed at that post that’s as like “I read through a whole fic and realized at the end that I wrote it” but that exact situation is happening to me currently. Did. Did I write this. It’s by orphan account did I write this

[digitaldiseas3]

.

[makismei]

cw: pleasure dom toji!!!, overstim, he’s sweet, squirting. 18+ content, penetration, little hint of anal play, fingering, oral f! receiving, established relationship

“baby, chill out,” he scolds, grabbing you by the hips and dragging you back. he knocks your legs open and you whimper, resisting.

“tojiii,” you whine, all drawn out and pretty, “please, it’s too much, i can’t cum.”

he scoffs, wet fingers rubbing against your pussy. your body locks up and he holds back a groan at the tears in your eyes. “it’s only too much because you can’t stay still. you did this to yourself, doll.”

you shake your head, stubborn as ever. “‘s not my fault! you just suck!”

eye twitching, toji presses two fingers inside without warning. “i think i’ve been too nice to you, baby.” he hums, scissoring his fingers and relishing in the way your back arches. “look at ya, talking back to me.”

he thrusts his digits, forcing your leg to open wider, while his thumb massages your clit. he presses down, applying pressure and making out little shapes.

you wriggle, tears pooling in your eyes like the drama queen you are. “no! not like thaaaat!”

“why, baby?” he questions, “you cum so quick when i have ya like this.”

you whine loudly, legs starting to shake. toji licks his lips, eyes training hungrily on your cunt. you’re almost there, but you’re fighting the urge to cum, knowing it pisses him off.

it makes him regret the fact he used to make you hold back your orgasms, only letting you cum if he said so—because now look, you’re using it against him.

but toji is competitive and he loves to win.

so he crooks his fingers just right, hooking onto that one spongey spot that guarantees his victory every. single. time.

“yeah,” he goads, watching your body suddenly lock up and wetness spew from your pussy like a geyser, “‘s what i thought.”

he rubs your pussy, just to make your squirt splash around. it’s humiliating, how he toys with your body and forces you into endless pleasure until you go stupid.

but you love it, despite the fact you like resisting, toji knows all too well that it’s just an act.

you turn onto your side, quivering from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

wordlessly, he manhandles you onto your knees, shoving your face into the mattress. you moan at the feeling of his tongue lapping at your pussy, muffling a scream when his lips latch onto your swollen clit and suck, his tongue playfully flicking your little bud.

he alternates between nibbling and sucking, reducing you to a babbling, incoherent disaster.

“cumming!” you warn, more squirt splashing shamelessly onto his face and all over the sheets. you fall forward, head turned to the side and panting.

“what a mess,” he chides, clicking his tongue. “aren’t ya ashamed?”

it’s teasing, but you’re so turned on. you hike up your knees again, wiggling your ass enticingly. you look over your shoulder, pouting. “‘m sorry, toji. didn’t mean to be messy.”

“sorry?” he asks, frantically you nod. burly hand slides up and down his cock, catching your slit and using your fluids as lube. his gaze flits to you momentarily, “yer really sorry?”

you nod again, squirming, “i am! m’ so sorry.”

toji grins, watching his cock disappear into your cunt, “then cum for me again, c’mon, hurry.”

you yell, arms unable to hold yourself up.

he plows into you mercilessly, fingers digging into the plush of your ass. your eyes widen when you feel his thumb on your other hole, rubbing it teasingly.

“what if i put my thumb in here, baby? what do you think will happen?” you feel a line of spit hit your ass, his thumb collecting it before returning to teasing your other hole. “remember your little treasure chest? swore i saw some plugs in there..”

weakly, you try to support yourself on shaky arms, moaning incoherently. “i— toji, i… ahh, mmph!”

you fall back down, face first, and he just laughs, “s’ okay, you don’t have’ta say anything. ya know why?” he goads, thrusting just a little bit harder, teasing you. “‘cause your little pussy is telling me all i need to know.”

toji groans and it’s loud, feeling your cunt squeeze down, trying to milk him for everything he’s worth. “that’s right,” draping himself over your back, his hand sneaks its way to flick your bud, relishing in your squeals and they way your body squirms.

“cum, pretty, c’mon,” he breathes, leaving spit-soaked kisses on your back, “need ya to feel good for me.”

he sings praises in your ear when he hears you gush all over the already damp sheets, moaning into your skin as his thrusts grow sloppy, before he’s dumping wads of hot cum into your battered pussy.

“fuck me,” he sighs, dragging his lips along your shoulder blades and nape, hips still pushing into your ass.

you’re whining, tears blurring your vision as you ride out the pleasure toji relentlessly gives. you’ve fallen into prone bone, too fucked out to utter words besides incoherent babbles.

his hands find purchase beside your head, dropping to his forearms, but refusing to pull out but littering your skin with feverish kisses, “did so good for me, sweets.”

he’s reassuring, knowing it’s intense for you. but toji has a mean streak that he likes to keep up, so naturally he’s teasing. “my baby, so fucked out, huh? it’s okay, you’re so cute like this. always so sweet after i dick you down enough.”

he pulls out, knocking your legs apart to watch his cum drool out of your slit. “mm, yer perfect, baby.”

you flop onto your back, pinching toji’s arm and refusing to look him in the eye. he grins, “what? you want a kiss?”

you nod slowly, cheeks burning. he just knows you too well.

but he complies, all too easily. it’s you, after all.

swallowing up your little moans, he devours your lips, pushing his tongue into your mouth. burly hands cup your face, opening his eyes to see yours squeezed shut. he grins, biting your lower lip when he pulls away.

rough thumbs wipe your teary cheeks. “there’s your kiss, baby. you happy?”

“yeah…” you mutter, eyelashes fluttering as you look up at him. “another one?”

he smiles and it’s warm and full of love, leaning down, toji brushes his lips against yours. “sure doll, anything you want.”

[dashiellqvverty]

everyone always wants to talk about jenny nicholsons video essays and i’m like does ANYONE want to talk about the art of the mattress aka the sleep song. bc it plays in my head every time i see anything about her.

[calico-kiwi]

i don’t know the official day i started using tumblr (my very first account has long since been lost to the sands of time after being overrun by cobwebs) but after digging through my emails i know i’ve been here since at least May 23rd of 2020 and though that’s not nearly as long as other people, it feels like an eternity.

Happy (late) four year tumblr anniversary to me, it truly has felt i’ve been here so much longer and i love how engrained this place is in my heart

unless the site is burned to the ground with nothing left i’m pretty sure i’ll never leave <3 (despite the fact there are still problems here)

[kurooh]

DOUBLE FANTASY ★ JUJUTSU KAISEN

⊹₊˚. featuring threesomes with gojo satoru + geto suguru, nanami kento + higuruma hiromi, shiu kong + fushiguro toji, tsukumo yuki + kamo choso.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, f! reader, threesomes, oral [m&f rec], spit roasting, double penetration, some degradation, choking, rough sex, squirting, sharing a cigarette, spit, clit slaps. | 4.5K words of FILTH

xoxo, juno. comment & rb if you enjoyed <3 !

GOJO & GETO.

perhaps letting your two roommates take care of you after a messy breakup wasn’t a good idea—or is it? less than an hour ago, you’d come home sobbing, cheeks wet with tears and eyes puffy.

satoru and suguru had pulled you into a tight hug, internally thankful you’d broken things off with that asshole (they’d hated when he would come around) but also sympathetic towards you. it was a tough choice, which was then promptly celebrated over margaritas and shots on the couch. one thing led to another, and before you knew it, you were pressed flush against suguru’s strong chest, body sweltering with need hotter than a fire.

“s-sugu, i don’t think you can both fit inside.”

“not with that attitude, sweetheart,” suguru murmurs, hands settling on your hips as he places a small kiss to your cheek. “come now, anything’s possible if you believe in it.”

“bleh, you sound like confucius,” satoru fake gags dramatically, lining his cock up with his best friend’s. their sticky tips prod at your folds, and your heart races faster, rattling around in your ribcage so loudly you can hear it in your ears. although you’re a little nervous, the alcohol you’ve had helps to take the edge away; you impatiently wiggle your hips forward.

“i’m sorry . . ? do you even know who confucius is?” suguru asks incredulously, flicking his bangs to the side with a jerk of his head.

“i’ve seen you read enough of—”

“don’t do this right now,” you plead, voice whiny. “just fuck me already.”

“now, honey. you’ll have plenty of time to slut yourself out for us, don’t you worry.”

“nah, she’s right,” satoru quips, wrapping his hand around their cocks. suguru inhales sharply, unintentionally jerking his hips forward for more. “you ready for us, babe?”

you nod weakly, and the three of you moan in unison as satoru pushes their cocks inside you. it’s slow at first, but the stretch is one that you’ll remember for a lifetime—the burn of being split open on two cocks melts into something euphoric as each inch passes your entrance. satoru groans hungrily, his head falling back. snowy tufts of hair obscure his diamond blue eyes that he tightly squeezes shut, and a huff of breath leaves his lips.

suguru kisses your jaw, fingers trailing along the slopes of your body before finally sweeping over the delicate skin of your throat. you breath hitches when he whispers into your ear: “we’d always hear you begging to be choked harder. don’t you remember that, satoru?”

“hngh, yeah,” he swallows hard at the memory—he and his best friend always heard everything through those paper thin walls. they’d heard your dissatisfaction and vowed to satiate you someday. “and you’d always be going deeper, deeper!”

your cheeks burn with embarrassment. had your roommates really heard everything? how did they face you so easily in the morning after being kept awake each night?

“we’ll give you everything, sweetheart.”

suguru squeezes your throat experimentally, and the corners of his lips lift when you release a moan you’d been holding back for far too long. he and his best friend slowly start to move, rocking their hips into you and developing a smooth tempo.

“both of you are so fucking big,” you mewl, back bowing off of suguru’s chest. they’re filling you up and stretching you out and just as you think it can’t get any better, satoru’s nimble fingers wander to your clit. he curiously toys with it, eyes darkening lustfully once you react how he’d been hoping you would.

“perfect size just for you,” suguru coos, yanking you down by the throat. “satoru, spank her a little.”

he obliges, reading his best friend’s mind easily—a stinging slap lands on your clit, sending prickling shocks of pleasure through your body. the tips of their cocks kiss your cervix, pushing so deep you can’t seem to breathe. satoru gifts your swollen, sensitive clit with slap after slap; the force behind each one only increases until you’re crying freely.

but you’re not begging him to stop, you’re begging him for more.

“god, i always knew you were a fucking slut,” satoru chokes out, pausing to lick some of your slick off his palm. your stomach flips around at the simple action, something hot flashing through you when he closes his eyes momentarily and savors the taste. “finally . . got you to myself.”

then he looks at suguru, who rolls his eyes. “well, for the most part.”

“no need to sound so excited,” he deadpans, huffing beneath you. “as if you’d fuck any better than that damn ex boyfriend.”

satoru scoffs in disbelief, slapping your clit with renewed strength. his hips are still moving, still burying his cock and suguru’s inside you deeper. they’ve got you entirely stuffed—maybe this would be better than some turkey on thanksgiving. your clit throbs with each punishing slap, but your eyes still roll back each time. while they bicker, your oxygen deprived brain spins with arousal and tipsiness. you shudder, going still and barely even managing to warn them of what’s about to happen.

“fuck, i’m gonna—‘m cumming,” you sob, sounding fragile just before you’re about to break. flashes of heat chase their way through you, until they finally explode out of you, in the form of a soaking orgasm. out of patterned habit, satoru’s palm smacks your puffy clit, which only prolongs your intoxicating high further. the intense contractions inadvertently push their cocks a few inches out of you, and your cum splashes on their skin, eliciting pleased groans from them both.

“baby, did you just—”

“she did, satoru,” suguru confirms, biting back a moan.

“i don’t even—i don’t know what happened,” you pant, hissing when someone’s tip bumps against your twitching clit.

“‘s called squirting,” satoru supplies, entranced as he stares at your messy cunt. a mixture of slick and cum coats your inner thighs, and he can’t help but swipe a finger across your skin and then stick it into his mouth. he releases it with a pop, and eyes suguru knowingly.

his voice is now raspy, thick with desire. “let’s make it happen again, sweetheart. we can take turns, of course. but my face comes before satoru’s.”

NANAMI & HIGURUMA.

the smooth oak wood surface of higuruma’s desk is littered with papers hastily swept to the side, and the fabric of your skirt fans out over a few of them. pens and other stationary supplies are forgotten on the floor, along with your now wrinkled blouse.

“h-holy shit—‘romi, right there! just like that.”

“one can only hope that this’ll be enough luck to carry us through the trial,” higuruma grunts, nails digging crescent shaped indents into the fat of your ass. he’s gripping you tightly, chest heaving rapidly as he vigorously fucks his cock deeper.

“ah, hiromi,” nanami huffs, pushing a few stray hairs away from his forehead. they’d escaped their neatly gelled place on his head when the three of you had rushed into higuruma’s office to discuss the final procedures before your trial. “don’t be a downer . . . this is more than lucky. we’ll win, of course.”

you sob, clawing at higuruma’s shoulders. he’d discarded his suit jacket long ago, carefully folded it on one of his bookshelves so as not to ruin the cuffs and smoothness of the fabric. now, he’s rolled the sleeves of his white shirt all the way up to his elbows, and his loosened black tie swings in your face with each of his thrusts.

“wait, hiromi,” your clammy hand pushes against his stomach insistently, “s-slow down, it’s too much, i—”

higuruma looks toward nanami for instruction, and the latter simply pauses stroking his cock. he stands, pushing back the spinning chair he’d been sitting on, and steps toward the edge of the desk. a sheen of sweat covers your forehead and disrupts the smoothness of your makeup, but nanami doesn’t take much pity on you—instead, he lightly slaps your cheek.

“need me to show you too much, angel?” his voice is low and dark, words laced with a throaty rasp that has your pussy squeezing higuruma’s cock. nanami’s eyebrow raises as he pushes your thighs apart to take a look at the mess between them.

“seems to me like she wants you to,” higuruma nods toward your pussy, then loosens his tie and collar further. “after my turn, of course.”

nanami grunts in agreement, settling on the edge of the desk beside your head instead of the chair. the desk creaks weakly from the newly added weight, and for a moment the idea of it collapsing beneath the three of you crosses your mind. higuruma snaps his hips forward, unconsciously licking the sweat away from his upper lip when he starts up.

your hand lamely pushes against his stomach again, but he shakes his head and nanami reacts immediately, intertwining his fingers with yours and slamming your hand down on the wood. whimpers leave your lips and the air is punched out of your lungs with each of higuruma’s strong thrusts; he’s so deep you can practically feel him in your chest.

“ken, i need—my clit,” you gasp, back bowing off the desk fruitlessly. your hips twist and jerk away from higuruma’s cock, for fear of being split open. “touch my clit, i need to cum—”

nanami slaps your cheek again, and your eyes roll back at the penalizing sting. “hiromi, you hear that? she wants to cum.” he mocks your words, then turns back to you, hazel eyes burning holes into your own. “and how do good girls ask to cum, baby? certainly not the way you just did.”

“‘m sorry,” you mewl, and higuruma slaps your clit and makes you shudder. “p-please, i wanna cum for you—i’ve been a good girl!”

“hm, hiromi? you think she’s been a good girl?”

you look up at higuruma pleadingly, tears gathered in your lashes and sparkling in the light. you’ve got that blissed out and dumb look on your face, completely at peace with being thrown around and shared between them.

“sluts take it,” he groans, teeth sinking into his lower lip hard. he yanks your body closer, further bullying his cock inside you. “‘nd you’ve been running from me—isn’t that right, babygirl?”

nanami clicks his tongue, and pinches one of your hardened nipples between his fingers. he looks down at you nicely, cheeks pink and hair mussed.

“maybe i’ll let you cum when it’s my turn,” he huffs, a small smile playing on his lips when you weakly moan his name as if he’ll give you permission. “for now, you’ll have to beg. now, go on and open wide, baby.”

the moment your lips part, nanami spits onto your tongue; he watches you expectantly and nodding in acceptance when you swallow, drunk on the taste of his peppermint gum.

“that’s right,” higuruma backs him up, looking down his nose at you expectantly. “speak now or forever hold your orgasm, sweetheart.”

TOJI & SHIU.

“so, princess, still up for lunch later?” shiu grunts around a chuckle, passing the lit cigarette to toji. the latter accepts it with a scoff, rolling his jade green eyes as he sticks it between his lips.

“yes,” you and toji answer at the same time, but your voice is muffled on shiu’s cock.

toji gifts your ass with a slap and exhales the smoke, handing the cigarette back to shiu with a glare. his once stagnant hips begin to move again, almost as if he’s rejuvenated from his little smoke break. shiu only laughs, cupping the crown of your head in order to ease his cock further down your throat.

“i’m surprised you’ve got the money for that, toji,” shiu teases, exhaling sharply when the tip of his cock bumps into your uvula and makes you gag. your throat constricts around his length and you let out a muffled whine in reaction to the stretch.

“you crazy or sum’n?” toji snaps, choosing to argue with his best friend while he’s balls deep inside you. his harsh thrusts make your pussy squelch, and shiu’s cum from earlier spills out onto the bedsheets below. “of course i’ve got the fuckin’ money for lunch, but you’re gonna be the one paying, dumbass.”

his fingers find your swollen clit and he pinches it, making you gasp around shiu’s cock. you choke, gagging so hard tears pool in your eyes—shiu strokes your head comfortingly as you pull off his cock, coughing hard.

“you okay, babygirl?” and he looks at toji disapprovingly, but he only continues to fuck you. the blunt head of his cock kisses your cervix lightly with each thrust, and when he feels like he’s not going deep enough, he lifts your hips to pull you back. “toji, that was mean.”

“mean . . ? shiu, my girl can fuckin’ handle it. ain’t that right, baby?” he looks to you for confirmation, quirking a brow while the scarred corner of his lip curves into a smirk.

this whole mess had started when you’d spent a night in with toji, watching movies and taking shots every now and then. you’d gotten drunk, swaying on your feet and giggling as you’d pointed to the tv screen dazedly.

“oh, toji, look! that guy looks like shiu!”

he could see the resemblance, and grunted, “damn, he does. ugly just like him too.”

“shiu isn’t ugly!” you jumped up drunkenly to defend his best friend’s appearance, waving your arms around dramatically. “he’s very good looking, actually.”

“oh, really? he doesn’t have any muscle, though.”

“toji, don’t be silly,” you laughed at your boyfriend, “‘course he does, it’s just under all those clothes of his. if he took ‘em off, you’d know what i mean!”

“so you got a crush on shiu?” toji asked in disbelief, his cheeks flaring a deeper pink as he took another vodka shot. “aw, i should let him know.”

one thing led to another, and shiu had come over for breakfast. then your little crush had gotten out, and a bet was placed—who could fuck you better? the condition for the loser was then set in place: whoever lost would buy lunch for the three of you without question.

“y-yeah, toji,” you mumble, forehead pressing into shiu’s pelvis weakly. he’d been the first to fuck you, and now it’s toji’s turn with your pussy—you’re sure you won’t walk smoothly ever again.

“can’t hear you,” toji taunts, lifting your hips and yanking you back onto his cock. the new angle forces him deeper, stretching your cunt out even further. “wanna repeat that for me, doll?”

“ngh, f-fuck,” you moan, eyes rolling back. his cock slams into that sweet, sensitive spot that’s deep inside you, and the tears that had been building in your eyes finally pour down your cheeks. the mascara and eye makeup you’d worn for the breakfast smears against shiu’s skin and makes messy tracks down your face. he curiously slips a finger beneath your chin to make you look up at him.

“aw, baby. i really can’t wait to hear who fucked you better . . . my back certainly wasn’t cracking as much as his is.”

“shut it, shiu,” toji groans, savoring the broken moans that freely leave your lips—gasping ah’s and whines that you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to. “hand me the fuckin’ cig.”

shiu obliges, chuckling softly when he notices you pawing around his thighs in search of his cock. you whimper when you finally get his tip back in your mouth (with his guidance), slowly taking him in inch by inch. he groans, tossing his head back when he finally bumps into the back of your throat.

“m-mind if i fuck your mouth, doll face?” he asks, thighs twitching expectantly. a vein in toji’s forehead bulges at the way he steals his pet name for you.

you shake your head shyly, blinking slowly while toji fucks every single thought out of your head. he’s deliberately holding himself back so you’ll go dumb on his cock, unable to scream anything but his name. yes, this is how he’ll show shiu who can fuck—show him that you’re his girl, his doll face.

tendrils of smoke waft over your break before dissipating in the air as if they were never there. you shudder as toji’s fingers reach your clit, rubbing sloppy circles on the sensitive nub even though your hips rear away. you still haven’t recovered from the overstimulation shiu caused with both his tongue and fingers, but that’s okay. he’ll have you cumming on his cock regardless.

with a deep groan, shiu cups the back of your head to keep you steady, and he shoves his hips forward, his cock slamming far down your throat. you gag, but he’s merciless—doesn’t give you more than a second to breathe before he’s at it again, setting a brutal pace that matches toji’s.

“ugh, fuck—want ya to cum on this cock for me, doll,” he groans, starting to slap his fingers against your clit. your legs kick out in reaction, and you hump your hips back against his hand. toji’s fucked you so hard you can’t even feel shiu’s cum dripping out of you anymore; he’s seconds away from replacing it with his own thick load and having you hold it inside you during lunch.

you nod dumbly on shiu’s cock, starting to sob louder as your own orgasm hurtles toward you. the high is absolutely inescapable, and your watery eyes meet shiu’s when you tip your head up. to the best of his abilities, he’s sweetly talking you through it, his words jumbled although you manage to hear a few clearly.

“how ‘bout we all cum together?” he suggests, wiping a stray tear from your face with the pad of his thumb as if he wasn’t the one that caused it.

“whatever, just as long she does first,” toji warns, his husky voice carrying a tenderness that only you can hear. “got that, shiu?”

like a cheshire cat, he smiles in response, sticking the worn down cigarette between his lips. he takes a drag and thrusts as deeply as he can go before holding your head down at his pelvis. you can hear his quiet moan beneath the clapping of skin against skin and all the other noise; his cock shoots ribbons of white down your throat and he shudders when you swallow it all eagerly, looking up at him for more.

toji throbs against your cervix, and he grabs your asscheek in one of his hands to tug and slap at. “‘m gonna cum, shit . . . wouldn’t ever wanna cum outside of this pretty pussy.”

his fingers work your clit until you’re arching your back and crying out, gushing on toji’s cock with no end in sight. wetness sprays against his pelvis and abs, and he groans, fucking you through it.

“such a mess, doll,” he groans, slipping a hand around your throat and pulling you off shiu’s cock. he instead pins you against his muscular chest, looking over your shoulder through hooded eyes at shiu, who hasn’t gone soft yet. “fuckin’ love it, though.”

toji places a few wet kisses to your neck, moving close to your ear. “so, doll face? where’s lunch gonna be? shiu’s treat, of course.”

YUKI & CHOSO.

“c’mon, you don’t really plan to just sit and watch us, do you?” yuki pushes her blonde bangs away from her forehead with an enchanting smile playing on her lips. she playfully tilts her head to the side, eyeing choso and his seated form.

“well, i . . . you said you’d teach me,” he offers lamely, his reddened cheeks only darkening. he catches your eyes on him too and awkwardly crosses his legs, trying to hide the tent in his pants.

when you’d finally had enough of your boyfriend’s ineducable inexperience, you’d decided to bite the bullet and ask your best friend. yuki had been receptive from the start, her eyes gleaming while you’d explained the situation to a willing choso.

“oh, you won’t learn anything from over there,” she laughs, waving him over to the empty space beside her on the bed. “y’know, sex is pretty hands on.”

choso settles beside her, and the bedframe creaks as it accommodates the new weight. his fingers are trembling as they brush over the tender skin of your inner thighs, and his eyes widen when they come close to your dripping pussy. slick is smeared all over your skin and shining in the low light, utterly enticing to the both of them.

yuki spreads your legs further, and you draw in a sharp breath, lower lip slipping between your teeth.

“come closer,” she coos, pointing at your clit with a smirk. “that’s her clit . . . ‘s the secret to the female orgasm, choso. go on, give her a lick.”

without question, choso adjusts himself so he’s on his stomach, and he experimentally licks your clit. his silky tongue is flexed and nervous, dipping down further to taste the wetness trickling from your slit.

“f-fuck, choso,” you cry, insides lurching deliciously at the feeling. one look at yuki—her cheeks are colored pink, tongue unconsciously darting out occasionally to sweep over her lower lip—and another at choso, whose movements are gradually becoming more insistent, has a sweltering heat coiling deep in your stomach.

your hips jerk forward, pelvic bone nearly nailing him in the bridge of his nose, and choso’s head rears back in concern. “‘m sorry, are you—”

“our girl’s loving it,” yuki hisses, not even missing a beat as she cups the crown of his head, manicured nails digging into your boyfriend’s scalp as she forces his head back down. he doesn’t resist, letting out a muffled moan when his face lands directly in your pussy. slick smears across the lower half of his face and he feels the saliva pool on his tongue from how hungry he is.

choso’s nose bumps into your swollen clit, and a pitched whine tears from your throat. “need—i need more, please,” yuki settles onto her stomach beside choso, palm leaving his head. her fingers impatiently push past his chin, stroking lightly against your dripping pussy, and she quietly moans in delight.

you watch slack jawed as yuki pushes her fingers into her mouth, and her eyes squeeze shut. her hips grind against the bed, sheets rustling softly beneath her body. choso’s too caught up to notice, dark strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

“cho—ah, shit—use your fingers, baby.”

your boyfriend obliges obediently, carefully pushing his fingers inside you and tugging back to let yuki take over with her mouth.

that heat inside you ignites into an inferno the second her mouth finds your clit. her lips lightly wrap around it and her tongue sweeps over the swollen bud; to tease you a little further, she lets her teeth occasionally nibble at it.

“this what you wanted?” choso pants, voice lilting curiously as his eyes rake over your body. he’s always been rather shameless when it comes to looking you over, but after this, he’ll finally be able to back it up with a hundred percent. the heave of your chest and parting of your bitten lips is enough of an answer, but he wants to hear it from you. his fingers curl inside you, pressing into a spot that scratches the unbearable itch in your brain perfectly.

“y-yes, cho!” and you’ve got stars in your eyes, feeling an unfamiliar pressure straining in your lower abdomen. “wanna—wanna cum on your face, please.”

“you heard her,” yuki quirks a brow, thumb working your clit in place of her tongue. she’s got a wildness in her eyes, with the lower half of her face sticky like choso’s. “let’s make our pretty girl cum together, hm?”

choso flushes all the way to his neck but nods, his two fingers pushing deeply over and over. a small sting accommodates the stretch, but is quickly forgotten when their faces push against one another’s in their rush for a taste. your slick is sweet like ambrosia, and they’re far too greedy to take turns with your cunt.

your clammy fingers push into yuki’s flowing tresses, while your other hand cups the crown of choso’s head and pushes him impossibly closer. her moans are softer than his as she finds your clit again, licking desperately, almost as if she’s begging you to cum.

meanwhile, choso places a hand above your pelvic bone, palm pressing into the soft skin—you’d mentioned that fingering wasn’t fingering without that small detail and he hasn’t forgotten it since—and it’s becoming difficult to breathe without panting. whiny moans fill the spaces in between your babbled words of bliss, and yuki knows that she won’t be able to get enough of you once this is over.

“ooh, fuck,” you sob, nearly choking on your words when your back uncontrollably arches off the bed. your fingers tighten in her hair and your nails scratch against choso’s scalp, making a mess of his once neatly tied buns. “yuki, ‘m so close, can’t hold it—”

she’d known what had been coming the moment you’d asked for choso’s fingers. she’s unable to stop herself from smiling against your clit, and choso’s tongue bumps into her own as he fights for a piece of you too. he’d initially been all for this so he could learn how to make you tick, what you really meant when you’d beg for his mouth.

his skin is hot as it pushes against hers, their cheeks puffing up a little as they fight for dominance over your clit. they’re shaking their heads all too much, and choso’s grunting while yuki does too, sending vibrations through your already sensitive clit. that pressure burns through your body, and your legs begin to tremble on either side of them as it grows more intense.

“hmph—cum for us, pretty girl.”

similarly, choso tugs away for a moment and lets out a huff, pressing down hard while his fingertips push into your sweet spot, “let us taste it, baby.”

their simple words do the trick, and with a gasp, your pussy begins to gush waterfalls right onto their faces. yuki eagerly slurps up the slick and cum from your cunt, with no regard for the way it’s still fluttering sensitively. choso barely gets a taste, only getting the tip of his tongue wet, and he pulls back with an annoyed scoff.

“yuki, that’s—”

“y-yuki!” you interrupt, voice breaking as you pathetically try to writhe away from her. with choso sitting back, she’s able to grab you by the hips and drag you close, insistently licking you through the dizzying high. “‘s too much, wait—choso!”

“yuki,” he scolds with a shake of his head, but makes no move to pull her away. honestly, if he tried, he wouldn’t be able to. “that’s no fair, i didn’t even get a taste. and she’s my girl.” choso’s words are pointed and a little whiny, and yuki just rolls her eyes.

“then come here ‘n try again. just look at her, she’s dying for more . . aren’t ya, pretty?”

[scorpiosbite]

the first time drew saw actress!reader.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── when drew was forced by madelyn to come watch this new show with her and the rest of the cast he didn’t expect to have his heart captured by the mesmerising woman on the screen.

𝜗𝜚 pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey

author’s note: this takes place in 2023 during the filming of obx 4 which is when game of thrones started airing in my timeline also actress!reader is anywhere between 19-22 years old.

drew was sprawled across the couch in his hotel room, aimlessly scrolling. after a long day of filming under the hot and heavy sun of morocco, he had no intention of doing anything that required effort. his plan was to simply scroll until his eyes got heavy and he knocked out, but knowing his insomnia that wouldn’t be until the early hours of the morning.

glancing at the time displayed on his phone ten pm it read, he let out a heavy sigh, though his body ached with exhaustion, his mind would not shut off. but before he could put down his phone and try to force himself to sleep, a knock sounded on the door “yeah?”

“drew! its maddie.”

“maddie?” he spoke softly, what’s she doing up at this time. usually she was asleep the moment she got back to the hotel. “come in, its open.”

she came tumbling through the door, coming to a stop in front of the couch where he laid. drew couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched her. “what’s up?”

“drew! you gotta come watch this new show with us!” her hands were placed on her hips as she looked down at him.

drew sighed, a noise of exhaustion. “i can’t be fucked getting up, cline.” her face scrunched up, ready to dispute him.

“drew you have to! the last episode of season one just came out and i watched the first episode when it aired and it was so good that i stopped watching so that we could binge it all when the season finished!”

recognition sparked on his face. “wait is this game of thrones? i remember you saying how good the first episode was, like two months ago.”

madelyn’s face grew excited at the fact that he remembered. “yeah! please please, you have to come watch it, jd, bailey, chase, laci, rudy and austin are already in my room waiting.”

drew mulled over the idea for a moment. either he could rot in his room until his call time tomorrow or hang out with his friends and possibly watch a good show, if maddie’s high praise was anything to go by.

“yeah, alright let’s go.” he stood up from the couch, stretching his arms and grabbing his phone to follow maddie, who was already halfway out the door, unable to wait any longer.

when they arrived at her room, the first episode was already lined up on the screen, the hbo logo blaring in the dark room. drew greeted everyone and then took a seat on the spare love seat by the window. “you guys get forced too?” he questioned.

“yup.” jd breathed out. “nah i’ve been wanting to watch this, i remember hearing about it when they started filming, it’s supposed to be like super graphic and vulgar.” madison commented. “shit, really? i know nothing about this show, other than the fact that cline can’t shut up about it.” austin added. chuckles sounded across the room, and madelyn yelled from the kitchen where the popcorn she was making turned in the microwave. “y’all are about to thank me!”

drew simply sat in silence, with the amount maddie was praising this show, his skepticism grew, no way this show was that good. someone pressed play as soon as madelyn was seated, he didn’t see who. the intro song of the show blasted through the room and drew settled back into his seat.

“yo, pass me the popcorn?” chase rolled up the bag and chucked it across the room from where he was sat, drew caught it with ease.

he couldn’t lie, the show was good, fifteen minutes in and he was hooked. and just when he thought that it couldn’t get better, you came on the screen.

“holy fuck who is that?” jd’s voice rang out, but drew felt as though his voice came from somewhere far away. he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. “she’s beautiful right?” madelyn sighed out. mummers of agreement sounded from the people sitting in the room. “her name’s y/n y/l/n.”

“y/n” drew repeated to himself softly, almost as he was testing the feel of your name in his mouth. rolling the syllables on his tongue, in that moment he decided that no other word would ever compare to the way your name felt on his lips.

dressed in a flowing dress with daring cuts exposing your seemingly soft skin, he wondered what would it feel like if he ran his palms along the smooth expansion. your hair sliver, long and loose to play visenya targaryen, the last targaryen, the daughter of rhaegar targaryen and elia martell. drew felt as though no one had ever looked more stunning in the history of the world.

“drew? you all good man?” someone asked, he didn’t know who, he couldn’t hear or think of anything beyond you and the performance you were giving. “i think starkey’s got a crush.” rudy sang out, and the rest laughed. but drew couldn’t care less, too busy watching you.

they watched two more episodes and as the third episode came to an end drew finally broke out of his trance. while the rest occasionally made comments during the show drew could not tear himself away from the screen, afraid that if he looked away he would miss you.

“i gotta hand it to you, cline, i’m hooked. that shit was amazing!” carlacia grinned. “i fucking told you guys!” she retorted back. “but aside from that, starkey? what did you think?” she smirked at him.

“yeah, that was good.” drew’s body tingling “that’s it? just good? you don’t wanna talk about the moon eyes you were making every time visenya came on screen?” drew cheeks tinged pink. “yeah, she’s pretty.” “aye, shot your shot man, she’s so fine.” madison teased.

as drew made his way back to his room he looked at the time, two am, damn he didn’t even realise time had passed that quick. sliding into his bed after taking a quick shower, he couldn’t help himself but run a quick search of you on google. “fuck.” the soft curse slipping from his lips, just when he thought you couldn’t get hotter, he saw pictures of you, not in costume, naturally a brunette, he was so fucked. fuck it, he quickly searched up your name on instagram.

you were laying in bed scrolling through instagram when a notification popped up.

drewstarkey started following you. follow back?

first one, do you like it? if you do i’ll keep writing. reblogs and comments are welcome and appreciated.

[lennythereviewer]

My favorite Kingdom Hearts fact is that one of the biggest plot-holes that Nomura has never been able to meaningfully retcon or write his way out, a plot-hole so big that it fundamentally breaks the very rules the series is written on...

Is the existence of Steamboat Willie

Let me explain for the uninitiated:

In Kingdom Hearts 2, there’s a small detour in the story involving Maleficent trying to invade Disney Castle, the home of King Mickey. She can’t step foot in the castle due to an artefact of pure light that wards off darkness locked in the basement.

Pete, who is working for Maleficent, opens a door into the past (Before Disney Castle, this land was known as Timeless River) and decides to remove the artifact from it’s place in time so it won’t be there to stop them from getting in.

Sora, Donald, and Goofy chase Pete into the past thanks to another magic door provided by Merlin, and through some shenanigans involving old cartoons and teaming up with Pete’s past-self, they lock the door the villains are using, and return the artefact to it’s proper place so it can exist in the present.

You with me so far? Pretty straightforward-ish time-travel plot right?

Here’s where it goes off the rails.

Time travel would go on to become a staple of Kingdom Hearts going forward and would come with a very strict set of rules over how it operates:

1. You can only travel to a point in time where a version of yourself exists

2. You basically give up your body to do so, and travel as a disembodied soul unless you have a vessel to inhabit

3. You can’t alter the past in a meaningful way, what’s going to happen will happen

4. You lose your memories of said trip once you return, but your actions could leave a lingering instinct on your other self that could influence their decisions

“Wait” you may be thinking “Why should anyone go through all those hoops? Wasn’t time travel super simple that first time?”

And you’d be totally right, because the existence of Timeless River completely renders all of these rules and restrictions meaningless. 

There is no version of Sora that existed in Timeless River before he step foot there, everyone kept their bodies, the trio and Pete were able to mess with the timeline as freely as they pleased, and they all very much remember their trip. 

Nomura has never been able to meaningfully explain this super simple, easy way of time travel and the more convoluted method co-existing other than a cheap-throwaway line from one of the villains saying that Merlin “broke the rules” 

The hilarious part about this line is that it implies that PETE of all characters is actually more powerful than the actual villain of the series, because Pete opened a door into Timeless River through sheer willpower and nostalgia for “the good old days”

But the all-knowing chess-master of a villain who had an evil plan several decades in the making with countless moving parts and contingencies to account for had to use the roundabout, more complicated method of time travel where a lot could go wrong.

Pete though? Dude just casually broke all the rules of time travel because he felt like it. He's just built different.

TL;DR: Steamboat Willie breaks Kingdom Hearts lore in half, Pete is more powerful than Master Xehanort, and I fucking love this beautiful trainwreck of a series you guys it means so much to me

I love Kingdom hearts so much.