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ba9go · 3 months ago

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bakugou katsuki finds you annoying (he can’t stop thinking about you) pt. 1

sort-of enemies to lovers with bakugou katsuki <3

read part 2 💥 part 3 (nsfw)

from the very moment you walked into the 1-a classroom, you set off a ticking time bomb in bakugou katsuki. he hated your guts.

it was early in the morning, with about 20 minutes till class started. bakugou was seated in his chair, leaning back with his eyes closed, when all of a sudden he hears this agitating, grating voice.

his eyes snapped open and flicked to the source of the sudden noise.

you.

you stood in the doorway, bowing and apologising refusely to fucking icyhot for running into him. bakugou took one look at your stature next to todoroki’s and huffed. ‘idiot walks into a wall and apologises. what a dimwit.’

bakugou watches as todoroki awkwardly but earnestly bows back at you with a murmured apology of his own. you pause mid-bow to shake your head, “no, no, no, this was entirely my fault!” and bakugou thinks he can feel his temple twitch when you start laughing. “god, i’m sorry, we just look so stupid right now!”

‘damn right you do, fucking morons.’ bakugou tears his gaze away from your bright smiling face and spams the volume-up button on his phone until ears (jirou) can actually overhear travis scott from his earphones and flinches beside him.

bakugou closes his eyes and sighs through his nostrils. it’s way too fucking early for this.

later that day, aizawa-sensei announces that you’d be joining class 1-a as u.a.’s newest transfer student, and invites you to introduce yourself in front of the class.

you stood beside aizawa and introduce yourself with yet another beaming smile. your bright eyes roam around the classroom from face to face as you address your new classmates, until they land on bakugou, who narrows his eyes and glares at you.

bakugou feels a strange sense of satisfaction, watching you stutter mid-sentence, and he thinks you’re such an idiot, but then your eyes quickly dart away to look elsewhere and bakugou is somehow even more pissed off by you.

so he grinds his teeth and tears his gaze away from you once more to look out the window.

the rest of the week goes smoothly for you as you quickly befriended the class. with the exception of one, everyone seemed friendly and warm and genuinely interested to get to know more about you and your quirk. likewise, you were just as curious and enthusiastic about getting to know your classmates. with the exception of one.

you ignored bakugou like the plague — just as he’d wanted, bakugou thinks. you’re an eyesore, the way you’re all smiley and giggly, all of the damn time. bakugou hates it, hates the look in your eyes, like you’re so damn happy and you’re somehow just always having the time of your damn life.

‘just another fucking weakling who won’t last.’

it doesn’t take bakugou a long time to realise that his judgement of you was entirely off. you were in fact, not a weakling. you were strong, and you proved it every single time, putting your all in every training and going above and beyond with your hand stretched out to anyone who needed it, all the while with that damn smile on your face.

one training, bakugou busted one of his gauntlets. he had expected it, had already sensed that something was off when he was gearing up before training. he cursed under his breath and went to remove it, when you suddenly spawned by his side and scared the living shit out of him.

not that he’d ever admit it, but hearing your voice was enough to make his hair stand on end.

“hey, um, do you need help with that?” you asked, and bakugou freezed as you looked at him with those big, innocent eyes. “your gear, i mean.”

“hah?” bakugou flares up instinctively. it’s his default response to being approached, after all. “the fuck do you know about fixing jackshit?”

“oh, um, i tinker with a bunch of random stuff sometimes, so i figured maybe i could—”

“like hell i’m gonna let some idiot like you tinker with my shit,” bakugou sneers at you, and you flinch but you don’t take a step back. “find somethin’ else ta do if yer bored, sunshine.”

“sunshine— what—” you genuinely look a little concerned and even a little offended as you guffaw over bakugou’s words. “my quirk has nothing to do with sunshine!”

“hah?! ya think i’m stupid or some shit?! ‘course i know that it’s got shit to do with the sun, moron!”

“then why in the world would you call me that?!”

“i’ll call you whatever the fuck i want, shitface!”

then, class prez tenya iida dashes to break up the “fight”. “YOU TWO!!! BAKUGOU ESPECIALLY, CEASE YOUR SQUABBLING THIS INSTANT!!! SUCH PROFANITY IS NOT BECOMING OF A FUTURE—”

later that evening, you find yourself seated on the couch watching alien: covenant in the common room with kirishima, kaminara, sero and mina. however, you’re not paying much attention to whatever that egomaniac david’s doing in the movie, you’re still dwelling on how horribly your first proper interaction with bakugou had gone.

“y/n, darling, would you please tell us what’s wrong? this is, like, the tenth time you’ve sighed, and i know david is not that hot,” mina nudges your arm with an elbow. kaminari squawks in defiance, crying out that “if david’s not hot, i’m toast!” and kirishima reassuring him that he’ll be just fine, because “david’s just not manly, man!”.

“yeah, it’s not david,” you sighed yet again, and mina facepalms so hard you wince. “sorry, it’s just, i’m still a little peeved by what happened during training today.”

“bakugou, huh?” kirishima shoots you a wry smile, nodding sympathetically. “don’t mind it too much, bakugou’s just always like that!”

“i know, i know, but why the fuck did he call me sunshine?” you groaned, grabbing the nearest pillow and shoving your face into it.

“holy shit, okay, guys, this must be really bad,” kaminari shoots up from his horrendous slouched position and grabs sero’s shoulders to shake him like it’s the end of the world. “y/n just swore, and bakugou is acting up! i mean, that doesn’t sound like bakugou at all!”

“okay, firstly, kaminari, i hate to break it to you, bud, but i swear. like, a lot,” you dropped the pillow in your lap. “secondly, what do you mean bakugou’s acting up? doesn’t he call everyone names all the time?”

“yeah, insultingly,” jirou walks by the common room and chimes in. she points at the earphone jacks dangling from her ears. “i’m “ears.””

“i’m pinky,” mina hums in agreement.

“soy-sauce face,” sero deadpans.

“dunceface!” kaminari high-fives sero.

“and bakugou calls me shitty hair,” kirishima completes with a sigh. “what did he call you again?”

“moron, sunshine, and shitface, i think?” an awkward silence falls over the room, and you frown. “what? what does that mean? does he, like, really hate the sun or something?”

“…not that i know of? but it sounds like, uh,” kirishima scratches his head and gives you another one of those wry smiles. “sounds like you don’t completely piss bakugou off.”

extras:

yes that was an abby miller reference

yes i have walked into a wall yes i apologised

i REALLY wanna watch alien romulus in cinemas soon PLS NO SPOILERS

taglist (thank you for your support!!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @valeriyaaak @v3n7s @deimosjay @zaiban2989 @girls-overflower @notmeduhh @dreamcastgirl99 @busdriver-move-that-ass @atashiboba @kathsuhki @armeenix @channnee @antiwhores @sukunasbottomlefteyeball @kenqki @vikizzy @thesimpybitch @eempxth @hanta-seros-wifey @itztaki @thekidscallmebosss

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heytheredelulu · 8 months ago

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I was wondering if you could do maybe a like feral Bucky? Like maybe they trigger the soldat and instead of him fallowing their orders he goes after the shy curvy little intern of Tony’s? They’ve both been too shy to make a move. I’m cool with whatever spin you put on it, I LOVE your writing.

(Love all your normal kinks so feel free to add those too as you see fit! )

Thank you lovely 🥰 Can’t wait to drool over more of your writing lol

I took this and RAN with it.

It ended up becoming much longer than I had anticipated so this one will be broken up into two parts.

I struggled with trying to incorporate Bucky being triggered after the reader already being somewhat aquatinted with him, pining after him, etc. so I went the route I did and I hope it fulfills your request!

Part one will be mostly just plot building with a spicy cliff hanger leading us into a part two of pure smut.

Ready to Comply - Part One - Anon Request

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

Word Count: 2.5k

C/W: Language, discussion/implications of violence and murder, choking, blood (Bucky is strugglin’ and bites his own hand), a lil sexual tension in prep for part two, he sniffs her coochie, okay?

“Okay, stop. Stop that.” Tony whispered out of the corner of his mouth. You shot him a glance and tugged at your skirt one more time for good measure. He lets out an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes. “You look fine, Rookie. Very professional. Is that what you needed to hear?”

You scoff and shake your head. “That’s no- I’m not fishing for compliments, I genuinely hate dressing like a fucking secretary.” You grumble, drawing a laugh out of Tony. “And don’t call me ‘Rookie.’” You add with a prod to his chest. He brushes the front of his suit jacket sarcastically in response to your poke and raises his hands defensively, a soft chuckle rising from his throat.

“A fucking secretary? Really? It’s business professional. Did you think I could let you stand next to me in a press conference wearing an old t-shirt and some torn up jeans? We need to create a semblance of professionalism.” He gestures to his own attire with a grin and there’s a teasing glint in his eye as he continues.

“And what’s wrong with ‘Rookie’? You’re my little protégé.” He jests, reaching like he’s going to pinch your cheek as if you were some adorable little toddler. You frown, swatting his hand away and brings it to his chest, clutching it dramatically. “Wow, you’re going to assault your friend, mentor and extremely rich and handsome boss?” He jokes, feigning offense.

“The only accurate adjective in that sentence is ‘boss’, Sir.” You reply dryly, crossing your arms. The corners of his lips twitch into a sly smile and he nudges you with his elbow. “I’ll accept if you don’t agree with friend and mentor.” He starts, pressing his lips into a pout. “But I might actually get a little offended if you refuse to acknowledge how devastatingly handsome I am.”

You groan in annoyance and roll your eyes, preparing a witty comeback when Pepper Potts rounds the corner with a tablet cradled in her arm, a phone nestled between her ear and shoulder and an expression of concern written across her face.

“Everything alright?” Tony asks, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me.. another offer for People’s ‘sexiest man alive’? I keep telling them, I can’t be on the cover every ye-“ Tony stops mid sentence as Pepper’s manicured forefinger lands on his lips, effectively silencing him.

“Yes. Okay. Understood. Thank you.” She says curtly into the phone before disconnecting the call. “That was Fury. We have an issue. A Barnes issue.”

Your brows furrow at this. “What’s happened with Bucky?” You ask, a sense of dread creeping up your spine. He’d been all but isolated since he’d moved into the Avenger’s tower alongside his best friend Steve Rogers and you couldn’t imagine him being the source of an issue with how reserved this man was. You weren’t at all oblivious to his past- it had been global wide news after all, but in the months since his de-conditioning in Wakanda he had been making great strides towards recovery, working to make amends.

Though your interactions with the ex-assassin had been few, he’d always been polite and kind towards you. You’d felt so out of place among the Avengers, being Tony’s intern. You weren’t on the team, hell, a few of them didn’t even know your name despite you having been trailing behind Tony for the last year. Maybe it was your own fault, considering you hadn’t really made an effort to talk to any of them but aside from the fact that they were all extremely intimidating, you were naturally a shy and quiet person.

You quickly push the self deprecating thoughts from your head. You didn’t care about any of that. You shouldn’t. It wasn’t as if you wanted to be on the team, or were there to make friends, you were here as an engineer, to learn from who was arguably the most intelligent man on the planet. Perhaps that’s why Bucky had always been cordial to you more than some of the others living here. Maybe he gravitated towards you, as someone who constantly felt so out of place, because he felt that way here as well.

Or maybe he thought you were cute.

Oh fuck, if only.

You couldn’t deny your attraction to the man or that you’d been quietly crushing on him practically since you’d started your internship. Every small interaction with Bucky left a blush on your cheeks and a kaleidoscope of butterflies flitting about your belly.

The thought of someone as absurdly good looking as Bucky fucking Barnes finding you attractive was enough to spark a surge of heat straight to your abdomen.

No, get it together. Now’s not the time.

You mentally scold your vagina for having the nerve to throb at the mere mention of Bucky Barnes regardless of the context and turn your attention back to Pepper and Tony as they argued in hushed whispers.

“What’s happened with Bucky?” You repeat, knowing they likely won’t clue you in if it’s related to Avenger’s business.

Tony offers a nervous smile and exchanges a quick glance with his wife before he checks his watch. “Terminator? He’s fine. I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably holed up with security for setting off the metal detector.” He pauses and then snaps his fingers. “Or maybe he walked past the junkyard on fifth and got snatched up by the hydraulic magnet.” He says, lifting a hand and miming a crane.

Pepper lets out a soft sigh and your gaze flicks to her. “Yeah, a big magnet or something.” She mumbles, turning her attention back to her tablet. “I don’t think that’s-“ Your cut off by Tony’s hand on the small of your back, urging you forward. “Enough about Robocop. We’re on, Rookie.” He says, his nervous expression falling away and quickly being replaced with a mask of professionalism. “Let’s go unveil our project to the press.” Pepper moves to open the door for you both and before you can open your mouth to tell Tony that if he calls you ‘rookie’ one more time you were going to strangle him with his overpriced tie, your senses are overwhelmed with an onslaught of overlapping voices and camera shutters.

You toss your blazer over the desk in your quaint office and slump over into the chair, trying not to let your mind run wild with anxious thoughts about the press conference. Despite your best efforts you couldn’t help but worry that you probably looked like a deer in headlights up at the podium alongside Tony.

You huff and rest your chin on the back of your hand, glancing over at the computer screens. Your attention is immediately drawn to security footage from one of the conference rooms when you see movement on the monitor. You lean in with your brows furrowed. It’s late and no one should be in the conference room. You expand the image and can clearly make out Tony and Steve moving about the room with tense body language.

You hover over the footage with your mouse and hesitate. You know that you absolutely should not eavesdrop on the two men but once Tony’s hands begin angrily gesturing around you give in to temptation and turn on the audio.

“What the hell do you mean, ‘back up?’” Tony shouts, beginning to pace the room.

Steve leans forward with his palms on the table and his head bowed slightly. “It’s exactly what I said, Tony.” He replies, his biceps flexing as he grips the table. “HYDRA had a fail safe. They’d planted a back up activation incase he would ever manage to be deprogrammed.” He looks up at Tony with a solemn expression. “They got to him. I should’ve been there, I should’ve-“

Tony holds out a hand, his other resting against his temple as he tries to comprehend what Steve is telling him. “Well you weren’t and they did so know we have to figure out how the fuck we navigate this.” He says firmly, shaking his head. “Do we have eyes on him? Is he in the building?”

Steve sighed and stood upright from the table. “No. He’s in the wind. We lost contact with him a few hours ago.” He admits, running a hand through his hair. “But there’s something you need to know.” He adds, looking at Tony with concern as he begins to pace again.

“Well spit it out, Rogers!” Tony yells, stopping and turning back to Steve.

“Nat received some intel. The hit HYDRA ordered is on you and your intern.” He says so quietly you can barely pick it up on the audio. Fear crawls up your spine and your hand trembles as you increase the volume on the security feed, while your heartbeat in your ears becomes near deafening.

Tony stiffens, slowly approaching Steve. “You wanna tell me why?” He asks, his voice low and dangerous. Steve nods. “The new tech you unveiled today.“ He explains.

Tony sighs, understanding why one of their enemies would be threatened by what the two of you had been working on and reaches to loosen his tie. “I’ll take Pepper and move her to the safe house before I meet you at a rendezvous point. Send someone to get my Rookie and get her off the grid. I don’t want her alone for a single second.” He says in an exasperated tone, reaching into his suit jacket and pulling out his cell phone as he stalks towards the door.

“And Rogers?” He asks, turning around one last time, his hand curled tight around the doorknob. Steve’s head snaps up and he looks at Tony with guilt ridden eyes. “Yeah?”

“Find Barnes.”

Find Barnes.

The statement echoes in your ears, sending your thoughts spinning as if a category five hurricane were waging inside your head.

No. No, no, no.

There’s a hit out on you?

To be carried out by the fucking Winter Soldier.

Oh you were so fucked.

You scoot your chair back, bracing your hands on the desk to stand with wobbly knees.

Bile rises in your throat as you take a slow step backwards, bumping the chair in your state of panic and knocking your jacket off the workbench. You jump at the sound of it slipping to the floor and clutch your chest as a result of inducing your own jumpscare and take slow breaths to steel your nerves before you bend down to pick it up. As you rise back upright, your gaze connects with a pair of vacant, icy blue eyes in the shadows across the room and your entire body seizes in terror.

He’s not in the wind.

He’s been in here with you this entire goddamned time.

“B-Bucky?” You stutter, bringing your jacket to your chest and grasping it until your knuckles turn white. Maybe Steve and Tony were wrong. Maybe Nat’s intel was wrong. Maybe this was all a huge misunderstanding and you weren’t about to die at the hands of the ex-assassin you’ve been pining over for nearly a year.

He takes a step forward from the shadows, his face expressionless and his eyes unblinking without a single trace of emotion behind them.

Okay, yeah. You’re fucked.

“Sergeant Barnes?” You whisper, almost a plea to the man you knew, locked away somewhere in the brain of the cold and calculated killer standing in front of you.

He doesn’t speak, doesn’t register your words, as he crosses the lab in a few quick strides and catches your throat in his cybernetic hand.

Oh god.

The air leaves your lungs, his grip tightening around your windpipe as his face remains blank.

You’re going to die.

So why are you so fucking turned on?

Heat pools low in your abdomen, your core flooding with arousal, coupled with fear and unbridled lust.

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as you gasp and thrash in his grip, your thick thighs rubbing together with every kick and flail, doing nothing to alleviate the throbbing ache in your cunt.

God this is so wrong.

His brows furrow, the first hint of emotion since he stepped out of the shadows. His head tilts inquisitively and his grip slackens around your throat as he leans in, tracing his nose across your jaw line and inhaling deeply. You still, your face contorting in confusion as you swallow hard against his palm, leaning your body into his hold.

His eyes narrow as he pulls away from you and you take the opportunity to suck in a breath, massaging your neck gently while your gaze drops to observe his hands clenching and unclenching into fists at his sides.

“Bucky?” You ask, wondering what’s caused the sudden shift in his demeanor, wondering if maybe he’s somehow snapped out of the trance he’d been in. He’s still and silent for a long moment, his head bowed as his chest rises and falls heavily with every breath.

“Sergeant Barnes, are yo-“

His head snaps up, effectively silencing you.

Your mouth remains agape, stuck on your last word and as he watches you with predatory eyes, taking menacing steps toward you, you can’t seem to find your voice any longer. You stumble backwards, losing your balance and falling back against the desk, unable to regain your footing before his hands grip the flesh of your bare thighs.

He tilts you backwards, your back colliding hard with the surface of the desk, stealing the breath out of your chest. He drops to his knees, splaying his palms against your thighs, the hem of your dress rising up to expose your panties as he spreads your legs wide before him and drags his nose across the fabric.

He groans.

He fucking groans.

“You’re my mission.” He breathes out, eyes wild and fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as if he were fighting to physically restrain himself.

“I know.” You whimper, lifting your head to look down at him over the soft curve of your stomach.

“I’ve been ordered to kill you.” He chokes out, pressing his forehead against your inner thigh and drawing in a deep and shuddering breath.

“Then why haven’t you?” You ask in a broken whisper.

He turns his head and mumbles something incoherently, his breath ghosting against the damp fabric of your underwear and sending a wave of arousal crashing through your core. He stiffens, curling his flesh hand into a fist and bringing it to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles as he swallows back a moan.

He shakes his head, his teeth pressing into his skin hard enough to draw blood and you move to sit up, leaning on your palms as you look down at him where he’s slotted between your legs, visibly trembling.

He rises quickly to his feet, his left hand shooting out to curl around your neck again and he drops his bloodied flesh hand to his side.

“Because..” He says through clenched teeth, inhaling sharply as the cool metal of his thumb strokes the column of your throat.

“I can’t fucking focus when all I can smell-“

His free hand roughly cups your pussy over your panties, his voice trailing off as he kneads his palm against the thin, wet fabric.

He growls, tightening his grip around your throat and jerking you up to him, forcing you to meet his threatening gaze.

His expression grows pained and he whimpers, dipping his head to meet your forehead with his own, his breath fanning across your face with every heave of his chest.

“All I can smell is how wet you are.”

Taglist (Taglist is open):

@suz7days @blackbirdwitch22 @truthfulliarr @lilacka

Part two

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #winter soldier x plus size reader #avengers fanfiction

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drdemonprince · 10 months ago

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I don't think I have it in me to be an abolitionist because I read that horrible story about the trans teen murdered in South Carolina and my knee jerk reaction is, those people should rot in jail, ideally forever, or worse. No matter how I look at it I can't make myself okay with the idea that you should be allowed to steal someone's life in such a horrible way and then just go back to enjoying your life. Some stuff is just too over the top evil.

You can have whatever emotions you want about that person's murderous actions, but the reality is that the carceral justice system is one of the largest sources of physical, emotional, and sexual torment for transgender people on this planet.

Transgender people are ten times more likely to be assaulted by a fellow inmate and five times more likely to be assaulted by a corrections officer, according to a National Center for Transgender Equality Report.

Within the prison system, transgender people are frequently denied gender-affirming medical care, and housed in populations that do not match their identity, which increases their odds of being beaten and sexually assaulted.

The alternative to being incorrectly housed with the wrong gendered population is that transgender people are also frequently held in solitary confinement instead, often for far longer periods on average than their non-transgender peers, contributing to them experiencing suicide ideation, self harm, acute physiological distress, a shrunk hippocampus, muscculoskeletal pain, chronic condition flare-ups, heart disease, reduced muscle tone, and numerous other proven effects of solitary confinement.

The prison system is also one of the largest sites of completely unmitigated COVID spread, among other illnesses, with over 640,000 cases being directly linked to prison exposure, according to the COVID prison project.

We know that number is rampantly under-estimated because prisoners, especially trans ones, are frequently denied medical care. And even basic, essential physical care. Just last year a 27-year-old Black man named Lason Butler was found dead in his cell, having perished of dehydration. He had been kept in a cell without running water for two weeks, where he rapidly lost 40 pounds before perishing. His body was covered in rat bites.

This kind of treatment is unacceptable for anyone, no matter who they are and what they have done, and I shouldn't have to explicitly connect the dots for you, but I will. One in six transgender people has been to prison, according to Lambda Legal. One in every TWO Black transgender people has been to prison. One in five Black men go to prison in America.

THIS is the fate you are consigning all these people to when you say that prisons must exist because there are really really bad people out in the world. We should all know by not that this is not how the carceral justice system works. Hate crime laws are under-utilized, according to Pro Publica, and result in few convictions. The people who commit transphobic acts of violence tend to be given softer sentences than the prisoners who resemble their victims.

We must always remember that the violent tools of the prison system will be used not against the people that we personally consider to be the most "deserving" of punishment, but rather against whomever the state considers to be its enemy or to be a disposable person.

You are not in control of the prison system and you cannot ensure it will be benevolent. You are not the police, the judge, the jury, or the corrections officers. By and large, the people who are in these roles are racist, transphobic, ableist, and victim-blaming, and they will use the power and violence of the system to terrorize people in poverty, Black people, trans people, "mad" people, intellectually disabled people, women, and everyone else that you might wish to protect from harm with a system of "punishment." Nevermind that incaraceration doesn't prevent future harm anyway.

You can't argue for incarceration as the tool of your revenge fantasies, you have to argue for it as the tool that it actually is. The purpose of a system is what it does. And the prison system's purpose has never been to protect or avenge vulnerable trans people. It has always been to beat them, sexually assault them, forcibly detransition them, render them unemployable, disconnect them from all community, neglect them, and unperson them.

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calisources · 9 months ago

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𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All sentences on this memes are taken from different sources of literature, television and media about enemies to lovers trope and enemies and lovers trope with some angst thrown into the mix. Change pronouns, names and locations as you see fit.

Does it hurt? Loving someone who can’t love you back?

Break his crown, break his throne, rip his monarchy apart.

What are we doing?

You are capable of making my blood boil like no one else, and yet I feel a magnetic pull I cannot explain.

It’s not natural for someone to be as stupid as he is tall, and yet there you stand

Like whether you should kiss me or punch me.

Most of all, I hate you because I think of you. Often. It’s disgusting, and I can’t stop.

You make me feel things that shouldn’t exist.

Whatever this is, we should stop. I have been. . .compromised.

There’s a fine line between love and hate, and maybe we crossed it a long time ago.

I never thought I could detest someone so much, until the day I realized I was falling in love with you.

We may fight like enemies, but deep down, we both know that our hearts beat for each other.

You infuriate me, challenge me, drive me crazy, but damn it, at the end of the day, I can’t resist you.

It’s that tension that makes this so irresistible.

You’re like an addiction I can’t break free from, even if I wanted to.

You’re the thorn in my side, the fire in my veins, and I can’t help but crave your presence in my life.

Loving you feels like a dangerous game.

You infuriate me, yet you’re the only one who truly understands me.

You scare me to my core.

There’s no denying the fire that burns between us.

If any two men desire the same thing, which nevertheless they cannot both enjoy, they become enemies.

I thought we had agreed not to lie to each other.

Tell me you don’t feel this between us. Look at me and don’t look away while saying it.

You claim me your enemy and yet, let me crawl into your bed every night.

You are the bane of my existence, and the object of all my desires.

Do you even know all the ways a lady can be seduced? The things I could teach you.

I did not asked for this. To be plagued by these feelings.

I tried to deny it for so long, but I don’t want to anymore.

Follow me around. Look at me as if you find me fascinating. Touch me, and say nice things to me. And then, you pull away as if you did nothing at all.

There’s no need for these games.

Well, you know that old saying, “Keep your friends close and make out with your enemies.

You read me wrong. I wasn't trying to lead you on.

Is that all I am to you? A resource to be used in your scheme?

Stolas, don't act like what we have is anything more than you wanting me to fuck you, okay? You make that really clear all the time. But I just- I can't do it tonight, okay?

You'll lay a man out for implying I'm a whore, but you keep calling me one to my face.

So, the only man that can have you is one who's already tried to kill you. That's logic.

It's like a little death. Several, in fact.

Oh Max, if you really hated Kyle you couldn't have slept with him.

So go on... kiss me... kill me... Do something.

I've often wondered what this moment would be like. Me... you tied up.

Once this is over, we should really have angry sex.

Hate and love are not so very different things. Both are focused upon another. Both are intense. Both are passionate.

It just means you'd rather be with someone you hate... than be with me.

She's difficult and irritating, and she tries to hit me all the time.

We have a deal, what are you so afraid of?

Only I can hurt you this way. Only I can kiss you like this.

You dragged me down and now I can’t quit you.

This is the last time we do this.

Last night was also the last time. And yet, you keep coming back.

Better my mouth than my knife, right?

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #enemies to lovers

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demonslayerunhinged · 18 days ago

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Unhinged theory

The Passion of Sanemi Shinazugawa

Sanemi has no chill.

We all been knew this. His chill is one of the things that the fandom has accepted canonically doesn't exist, like Inosuke's uniform shirt or Zenitsu's dating standards, but the reason for his lack of chill and generally aggressive behavior is still a much debated topic to this day.

I have made two posts here and here breaking down his backstory, his trauma and socio-economical circumstances that made him the man he is today but, I still wasn't satisfied. Something nagged me about this character and his personality that I couldn't put my finger on. So I pondered, for days going through each episode, rereading the manga taking note of his actions and interactions with other characters.

Then, it finally hit me.

Ladies and gentlemen, I believe I've found the answer.

Sanemi, our sweet boy, is SEXUALLY FRUSTRATED.

Let me explain.

butt first...

What is sexual frustration?

According to Medical News Today,

Sexual frustration describes a state of irritation, agitation, or stress resulting from sexual inactivity or dissatisfaction. Sexual frustration is a common, natural feeling, and it can affect anyone.

Some symptoms include:

Feeling irritable, restless, and edgy (so Sanemi's entire personality?)

Engaging in unhealthy coping skills (like wanting to brawl with another man for no reason and after having a sexually-charged training session 🤨)

Performing riskier behaviors to fulfill sexual desires (like exposing your entire chest and leaving it vulnerable just so you can show off your tits like a slut 🤨🤨).

Compulsive or hypersexual behaviors (like wanting to grab another man by the hair just so he won't go away 🤨🤨🤨)

Depression or anxiety for men (see this post)

“Seeking revenge” against targets that are the believed source of the frustration (basically Sanemi vs Giyuu)

Displaced frustration on targets with no connection to the frustration (Sanemi vs Tanjiro vs Junior Slayers)

How did this cum to be?

Okay so, I have this headcanon that the Shinazugawa men have a high sex drive. I mean, there's the seven kids from Kyogo which means he had to be laying pipe...a lot(F's in the chat for Shizu 😔) and Genya's horniness when he breathes the same air as a girl, so it's safe to say that Sanemi also has a high sex drive.

After the tragedy that struck his family (Shizu killing the kids, not Kyogo's death because fuck that guy), Sanemi lost any hope or chance of a normal life. In the light novel Sign post of the Wind, Sanemi tells Masachika that life isn't for fun, and he has expressed his distaste for 'frivolous' things.

He denies himself these things because he believes he doesn't deserve them, why should he enjoy life when he killed his mom, when he couldn't protect his siblings, when his brother rightfully hates him, when demons still exist, when families are still being ripped apart, when his colleagues and juniors are being killed and when Genya is in constant danger. The only thing he allows himself is ohagi which is a reminder of happier times.

He has no time for friends, for love and definitely not for sex, which by extension includes masturbation. He won't be able to jerk off without seeing the faces of his mom and his siblings -and yes, that sentence was just as awkward for me writing it as you reading it- so he resigned himself to a life of solitude and sexual frustration, which caused him to develop his aggressive and no-chill personality but at least he was able to manage for a while, that was until he met Giyuu.

Cum hither Giyuu

Sanemi's no-nut journey became even more unbearable when he met Giyuu. There was just something about that sappy, derpy, stupid face that stole his heart and even though Giyuu's personality should've made it easy to stay away, the power of love and horny didn't allow that to happen.

Like I mentioned before in a previous post, what followed was a series of sexually-tense situations and interactions between the two Hashiras, so every time Giyuu happened to enter Sanemi's field of vision, I guess you could say more or less he was:

Reaching out for help

In the light of their impending doom with Muzan's arrival, Sanemi has a realization; he's obviously going to die soon, that doesn't scare Sanemi, he's accepted the fact that he's going to die anyway but to die as a virgin? Now that's not good. With the failure of trying to reach out to Giyuu in the Hashira meeting and the disaster that was the attempted eye-poking incident and being shamed by a 16-year-old Sanemi decides 'fuck it' and tries to reach out to Giyuu again.

But he can't go crawling to Giyuu and be like 'please fuck me', no no no that would not do instead he has the brilliant idea to challenge Giyuu to combat under the guise of 'training' in some misguided hope that the spar would get both their temperatures up which would in turn get Giyuu horny enough to rip off his clothes and fuck him. Yay! The plan is foolproof!

I already mentioned in this post how Sanemi's suggestion for a brawl made no sense as he could have just taken the Muichiro route and suggested they use their actual katanas, but no he wanted a full body contact brawl. Like look at how excited he was at the concept of brawling with Giyuu, like no wonder Tanjiro was scared for Giyuu!

JUST LOOK AT THIS FACE!!! LOOK AT THE DESPERATION!!! OUR BOY IS SO PENT UP HE'S ON THE VERGE OF INSANITY!!!

THIS IS THE FACE OF A MAN WHO HASN'T NUTTED IN 21 YEARS! He was literally begging BEGGING Giyuu to touch him! 😭

Tanjiro(bestest boy ❤️) was rightfully afraid for his big bro, so he intercepts (read cock blocks) Sanemi! Imagine how he felt at that moment; he was THIS close to some body contact and then comes in the same child who kills his rep at every turn! Not only that, but Tanjiro clocks in Sanemi's intentions and decided to put a stop to it by hitting him where he hurts; ohagi.

Imagine your biggest social opp coming along with his innocent, stupidly sweet face when you've finally decided to open yourself up to fucking your forever crush and killing whatever and all sexual tension with his annoying innocence!

Then, as if on a mission to destroy your spirit, reveals your secret love of ohagi! A sweet typically enjoyed by children! Right in front of his future baby daddy!

Tanjiro then drives the knife even further by asking him his ohagi preferences, talking about how his grandma used to make ohagi and shit!

LIKE BOYYYYYYYY

That explains why he was so salty even hours later. If I were him, I'd be pissed too! The fuck! I love how he stopped walking on the steps just to cuss Tanjiro out, like you can tell it came from the very depths of his soul.

I mean, you can literally hear the pain and frustration in his voice. That is the cry of a man who spent three hours douching, only to have his Grindr date cancel on him.

Celebrating the big O

After the events of the final showdown we see a more relaxed, almost peaceful Sanemi which tells us one thing - our boy finally got laid!

But when? and with whom?

Well Giyuu, duh. I theorize that it happened sometime during the three months of recuperation before Tanjiro woke up, and they had their last Hashira meeting. I mean, look at how they're smiling at each other, you can't tell me these guys didn't fuck at least once.

Sanemi came(lol) out(lol again!) of the encounter a changed man. He's moisturized, demure, in his lane, thriving.

Look at him here; tits covered 'cuz Giyuu has made an honest man out of him, and that peaceful look? Damn, dick was so good blud had to look up to the heavens like

In Conclusion, Sanemi's character development is really inspirational because it's a story of one man's triumph over thirst and yea I don't know how to end this post, so I'll just leave you with some words of wisdom:

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #sanemi shinazugawa #giyuu tomioka #sanemi x giyuu #giyuusane #kny sanemi #giyuu x sanemi #sanegiyuu #kny giyuu #unhinged theory #tanjirou kamado #might make edits later #shinazugawa sanemi #just unhinged #kny meta #kny anime #demon slayer anime

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gemstone-roses · 11 months ago

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New Year’s Eve.

Eddie Munson x Reader.

Summary: Eddie overhears you turn down an invite to Steve’s iconic nye party, stating you categorically hate the holiday, so, he invites you to spend the evening with him in his trailer instead.

Warnings; SMUT, 18+ only, p in v MINORS BE FUCKING GONE FROM THIS PLACE , mentions of drug dealing., anxiety, praise kink, hurt/comfort vibes, the holy trinity of my fics. Like soo much praise kink, fingering! This took forever to write but I’m proud of it ok. This work and this blog is intended for adults only. I am not responsible for what content you consume.

A:N - I wanted to post one more fic before the end of the year, I hope you all like it! Thankyou for all the love on this blog this past year, I am so happy my fics have been a source of comfort for some of you, I’m so thankful for all the love. it’s been a tough one for many, including myself, here’s hoping the next is easier on rveryone. Much love to everyone ❤️❤️

“what do you mean you’re not coming!” Steve asks with mock affront, standing at the door of your trailer, your leaning against the door, steaming mug of coffee, untouched, you give Eddie a wave as he leaves his place opposite, he sends you a wicked smile and a wink as he leaves to do his dealings of the day.

You shake your head and chuckle.

“Steve, every year you ask me, every year I say no, my answer hasn’t changed and it won’t” annoyance creeps into your voice unintentionally. Steve opens his mouth feigning hurt before breaking out into a smile.

“Sorry, I just haven’t had my coffee yet, but I hope you have a wonderful party Steve” you smile, and he nods “I understand, I just have to ask you know? Maybe this year will be the year you come”. “You’ve said that every year since we’ve known each other haven’t you” you chuckle, and he nods, swiping his hand through his hair. “Anyway, lots to do, I better be off, have a good night” he waves you off before getting back in his car. You bring your coffee to your mouth, finally. “Spending New Year’s Eve alone sweetheart”? Eddie appears from the side of your trailer, his face in a huge grin you can’t help but smile.

“Yes”. You say. Eddies brow furrows, as he steps into your doorway, his aftershave invades your senses as he places a caring hand on your arm” can’t have that darlin, I’ll be back at 5, come hang with me” he’s says it so casually but the sparkle in his eyes says he’s desperate for you to say yes. You weigh up your options in your head, you were just going to go to bed early and hide under your covers, but the man in front of you makes your breath hitch whenever you see him, and that mouth,god. “Yeah, okay”. You say. And you didn’t think it possible but eddies grin gets wider. “Just come over anytime after five sweetheart” his voice cracks at the end of his sentence and you have to do everything in your power not to groan. “Okay” you whisper. And then he’s gone, leaving you feeling empty without his presence.

5 o clock comes quicker than you thought. Swiftly slipping on a black band tee you pull on a pair of comfy joggers and head over.

The door swings open before you can even knock. “Hey darlin” his eyes are sparkling again as he steps back and does a theatrical bow to show you in. You laugh at his actions as he shuts the door behind you.

“So, sweetheart, you gonna tell me why you hate this holiday so much?” He steps closer to you, his eyes wide with interest. You frown, anxiety pooling in your stomach. “Hey” he says softly. Fingers coming to cup your chin. You look at him, his soft brown eyes make your insides melt slightly. “Did I upset you” he asks and it’s so sweet and unexpected you can’t help but let out a small laugh. “No, god no, I just, it’s silly” you trail off, looking down at the floor. “Not to me” Eddie says softly, and you look up and once more think you might get lost in those eyes. He’s got a reassuring smile on his face, waiting. “I get this impending and unrelenting feeling of doom okay” you whisper, then shut your eyes as if you can hide from the words you’ve said. Eddies fingers caress your face gently. “That’s not silly” he whispers, cupping your face with his big hand. You lean into his comforting touch. “Thankyou”. You whisper, lifting up your hand and placing it on top of his. “You have the most stunning eyes” he mutters before recoiling slightly as if he didn’t mean to say it out loud. “Erm”… he rubs the back of his neck chuckling. “So do you” you say simply. “Ha, thankyou, sweetheart” he laughs awkwardly. The tension in the air hangs between you, you look at Eddie, he looks at you and you think this might be it but then his brows shoot up and he says “Oh my god I didn’t offer you a drink I’m a terrible host” he says suddenly, tripping over himself to get you a soda. “It’s fine! Don’t worry” you assure him. He mutters sorry while he hands you the can and leads you to his room. “So, what would you like to do sweetheart” his grin has returned, and even though he’s asked you you know he’s got something in his mind. “I don’t mind, film?” You say sitting down on his bed pulling your legs up. Eddie stares, completely lost in the moment, watching you do something so ordinary, and you take his breath away. “What?” You ask, burning under his stare. “You’re fucking beautiful” he states. Your heart stops in your chest, mouth falls open and you don’t realise he’s moved closer, he’s sitting opposite you, his hands on your knees, he’s leaning forward slightly, a mix of weed and his aftershave once again enveloping you. You meet his eyes, full of adoration for you, his tongue pokes out to wet his lips and you can’t tear your eyes away. “Can I- kiss you?” He asks and your heart soars as you nod, he crashes his lips to yours and you forget to breathe. The kiss is gentle but firm, he wraps his arm around your waist as he pulls you into him, one hand holds the back of your neck as he runs his long fingers up and down, sending shivers straight to your core. You moan and he stops, panting slightly, he keeps one hand at the back of your neck.

“Eddie” you breathe. “God your incredible” he says, swiping his thumb across your puffy lips, he leans into kiss your neck. He trails sloppy open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone, you writhe underneath him, each press of his lips causing your pussy to throb. “Eddie please” you moan.

‘What do you need sweetheart?” He mutters and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. “You” you plead, clenching your thighs together to get some, any, form of relief.

“Mm, say it again” he groans, fingers waiting at the edge of your joggers. “I need you Eddie” you moan, pushing your hips up to emphasise your point. Mischief dances across his face as he slowly removes your pants, smiling at the wet patch that’s formed in your panties. He taps his fingers across your clothed pussy, watching as your head falls back in both pleasure and frustration. He bends down, breath fanning over your clothed core. “I can’t wait to feel you come around my cock” he whispers, placing an open mouthed kiss over your dripping pussy, before hooking his fingers through your underwear and pulling them down.

Eddie leans over you as his fingers dance on your inner thigh, one hand bracing on the window behind your head. He bends his head, hovering his lips next to your ear” Spread your legs wider for me darlin” he groans, and then smiles as you do. “That’s it” he says, moving his hand toward your core. “So wet” he comments, pushing his finger inside your hole, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your clit. He moans as you clench around his finger instantly. “Mm fuck Eddie” you whine as he curls his finger inside you. He captures you in another kiss as he presses his thumb into your throbbing clit. “Ah, Eddie-“ you say, your orgasm fast approaching, he continues, alternating between circling and pressing on your sensitive button, pleasure begins to cloud your vision as he pumps his finger in and out of you, wetness dripping down your thighs.

“That’s it, good girl, come for me sweetheart” he soothes as your orgasm crashes over. He keeps rubbing gentle circles on your clit as you come down from your high, when you open your eyes he’s staring at you, awestruck. “You did so well for me” he praises and Eddie’s cock twitches in his pants watching your reaction to his words. “Eddie, that was amazing” you breathe, and he shoots a wicked smile at you that has heat flooding your body again.

“You okay”? He checks and you nod. “Drink this” he unscrews the cap on a bottle of water for you and places it to your lips. No one has ever bothered to be anywhere near as kind and considerate and your heart once again soars because of the man currently sitting between your legs. Eddie’s cock is painfully hard in his pants as he takes in your post orgasmic state. Sweat pooled on your face, your still panting slightly, come dripping from your pussy onto his bed, Eddie thinks it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

You sit up and pull him into you, his clothed cock pressing into your naked core. He hisses at the contact. “We don’t have to, it’s completely okay if you want to stop darlin” and once again your falling hard, the softness in his voice makes you want to cry. “I don’t want to stop” you say and Eddie places a gentle kiss to your lips before pulling his pants down. His cock strains against his boxers, you reach out and tease the head with your hand. Eddie groans, it’s feral and he places his hands on your shoulders as he nips at your neck. “Lie down for me sweetheart”. Eddie removes his underwear as you do, He positions himself between your legs as you lie back, head hitting his pillow. You push up to see his hard thick cock springing up against his stomach, precum leaking from the tip, it makes your stomach flip and your mouth water. Eddie pumps his cock a few times before rolling a condom down his cock. Eddie pushes gently on your shoulders so you lie back down, he taps his cock a few times on your pussy causing you to moan unexpectedly. He positions himself at your entrance as his hand cups your face. “You okay?” He asks, waiting for your answer before he does anything. You nod, taking a deep breath as you prepare for Eddie to push into you. “Can you go slow?” You whisper, cringing slightly, hoping you didn’t kill the mood. Eddies face softens, “of course I can baby, it’s okay, I got you” he soothes softly, his other hand rubbing the inside of your thigh. His hand comes to circle your clit slowly. “Look at me” he says, and you do. The smile on his face is otherworldly, it brightens everything around you as he studies your face closely, rubbing gentle circles on your clit as he slowly pushes his cock inside you. “Breathe, baby” he comforts as your walls clench around him. “Eddie” you whine, “You’re doing so good for me” Eddie keeps praising you until his cock is nestled deep inside you. Eddie groans at the feeling of you wrapped around him. He stays put until you speak. “Move” you whisper.

Eddie thrusts into you slowly, one hand gently splayed across your lower stomach as he rocks his hips back and forth, your hands grip the sheets beneath you as Eddie’s cock reaches a spot inside you that makes your head spin.

“Mm eddie- you moan as your second orgasm builds, every nerve in your body tingling at his actions

“You feel so amazing clenching round my cock like this darlin, you’re takin me so well” he soothes, your pussy clenches at his words and Eddie moans as you squeeze his cock. “Fuck Eddie I’m gonna-

Eddie’s cock pulses as he feels you clench harder. “Eyes on me darlin” he whispers. You meet his gaze and your head clouds with pleasure again “Good, I got you, your okay, come for me baby, drench my cock, come with me, fuck!” he groans as your pussy tightens around him as you release around Eddie’s cock just as his own orgasm crashes over him.

Your ears ring as you hear muffled praise fall from Eddie’s lips, his touch grounding you as your mind clears. “You were incredible” Eddie whispers, drawing patterns on your hips with his fingers. You smile at the sight in front of you. “Eddie” you croak, voice hoarse. “Yeah darlin” he asks, and the sight of him, sweaty, curls stuck to his face, his face flushed with heat, you wish you could engrave it into your mind forever. “Can we stay like this forever?” You sigh. And Eddie chuckles before grabbing both your hands and fitting them in his. Forever sounds amazing with you”. He whispers, catching your lips in a heated kiss as fireworks light up the sky above.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you

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crownmemes · 5 months ago

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Pretentious & Poetic Sentences, Vol. 8

(Pretentious sentences from various sources for muses that like to speak in grandiose sentences. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"You could be magnificent."

"Alcohol is the anaesthesia by which we endure the operation of life."

"You would make a beautiful corpse."

"When all the facts fall short of believability, fantasy feels reassuringly solid."

"Every choice you make has a consequence in the future. One wrong choice and you lose."

"Sometimes fate deals us a strange hand."

"Do you know the difference between order and chaos?"

"Every story has a beginning, but no story truly has an end."

"Trauma scrambles the senses. It transforms even the most lucid mind into a labyrinth."

"Time is a flat circle and we are all stuck in it."

"Stories end gracefully. Everything else ends in shock and horror, falsely certain of tomorrow."

"We mortals are but shadows and dust."

"Every search for a hero must begin with something that every hero requires: a villain."

"I don't sleep. I just dream."

"A rotten tree trunk appears strong until the storm breaks it in two."

"The person who extends an open hand in friendship had better have a blade in a fist behind his back."

"A man without his word is no better than a beast."

"All the bright, precious things fade so fast, and they don't come back."

"Time is a flat circle. Everything we've ever done or will do, we're going to do over and over again."

"St Paul had to be blinded before he saw the light. I hope it doesn't take something so dramatic in your case."

"A spy can have a hundred names, a hundred faces, a hundred identities - but you only get one soul."

"To deny who you are is much more painful than confronting what you hate about yourself."

"Did you confuse reacting with feeling?"

"Any man can be a success, but it takes a madman to be great."

"We can never know in the present if the ripples created by an individual's actions will have a consequential event downstream."

"How will the world speak my name in years to come?"

"I'm going to do you the honour of letting you die superbly."

"To kill the snake, you have to cut off its head."

"We all want to be saved. Sometimes, it's just from ourselves."

"Allow me to dispel a few rumours so they don't fester into facts."

"The future is an equation with a thousand variables that keep changing."

"What we do in life echoes in eternity."

"You don't have to be a tyrant, but if you don't want to be consistently cruel, you have to be sufficiently brutal at least once to establish authority."

#rp meme #rp memes #roleplay meme #roleplay memes #rp prompts #roleplay prompts #sentence starters #assorted;#pretentious;

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matan4il · 9 months ago

Note

I have a query and I'm sorry that this question is going to upset you in advance. I see a post circling on here about Holocaust survivors apparently saying that Palestinians are exactly like them during attacks on Gaza. I just scroll past it because I have poor attention span that cannot stay focused more than one sentence but I wanted to know your opinion on this post or if you have seen it. Again, deep apologies that this ask is upsetting. Thank you for still being here and sharing with us.

Hi Nonnie!

Thank you for the kind way you approached this.

I have seen a post that might be the one you're referring to... It's a screenshot of a tweet:

The original tweet shows an interview with one Holocaust survivor. The response falsely expands this to survivors, in the plural, as if this one tweet shows a whole movement of Holocaust survivors, that people simply refuse to listen to.

The original tweet comes from an account that calls itself a "media company," but has no website (something I would expect from an actual media company), and is at least 80% tweets that are anti-Israel and anti-Jewish. I'll give you an example. We all know Elon Musk has allowed antisemitism to thrive on Twitter, all kinds of it, including the white supremacist type, and others that have nothing to do with Israel. In an attempt to educate him, he was invited to a tour of Auschwitz. But apparently, according to this "media company," that was just meant to stop anti-genocide speech on his social media platform:

Of the up to 20% of tweets this "media company" posts or shares, many are anti-democratic or in support of dictatorial regimes.

This account also amplified the words of Julius Malema, leader of the South African EFF party, as he justified the Oct 7 massacre, and demanded support for the (genocidal) Hamas and its "resistance."

Malema himself has repeatedly sang, "Kill the Boer," a song which many understand as a genocidal chant against the Boers, the South Africans of Dutch descent. This guy is a controversial figure at best, doesn't seem to have an issue with an actual genocide, and this "media company" upholds his words as if he is a role model.

But if this account tweets Israel hate, then I guess the Tumblr user who passed the tweet along has no issue with how questionable of a source this is.

I recognized the face of the survivor. This is what it looks like in the cut off screenshot in the Tumblr post I saw:

So how did I recognize him? Because the number of anti-Zionist Holocaust survivors is SO small (around 5), and I have seen every single one of them repeatedly tokenized by antisemites so much, that I'm familiar with the name and face of each. The man in this vid is Hajo Meyer, who died in 2014. He couldn't possibly make any comments about Hamas' massacre on Oct 7, 2023 and the war in Gaza since, unless this "media company" has managed to somehow contact the afterlife. Here's a screenshot from Google, showing a recent re-upload of this vid to IG:

And here's a very brief bio, mentioning his date of death:

I'm guessing that "media company" didn't name him, or specify the date out of the vid, because it didn't want people to know the guy was dead, and the views he expressed were pre-Hamas' massacre.

Hajo Meyer was, without a doubt, an anti-Zionist. But would he still be using this rhetoric after Oct 7, after the biggest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust, after better understanding the kind of threat that Israel and Jews worldwide (since Hamas has tried to target Jews in European countries as well, including in the Netherlands, where Meyer lived) are facing from this genocidal terrorist organization ruling Gaza? IDK. I'd like to think he would be better than to continue distorting the Holocaust through this false comparison, but I can't say for sure, and I'm not about to claim that I do, putting words in his mouth just to exploit a dead Holocaust survivor. The fact that the anti-Israel crowd would continue to tokenize (meaning, exploit) a dead survivor like that, as if anyone could know for sure that Meyer would continue to toe the same line, just shows there really is no moral low they can't stoop to.

And here I wanna emphasize how wrong this antisemitic practice is, tokenizing Jews. Because no marginalized group is immune to the hatred spread against it, there will ALWAYS be some of its members, who will internalize and embrace poison aimed at it. There were gay Nazis (the notorious Ernest Roehm was the highest ranking one) and we also have contemporary gay neo-Nazis. So, should we use them in order to pretend that Nazi ideology is not homophobic? That it didn't harm hundreds of thousands of gay people? No, we know that the overwhelming majority of gay people suffered due to it, and would insist that Nazism IS homophobic. So, using those few exceptions to ignore (and embolden) the homophbia of this ideology, ends up being homophobic in itself. Embracing the unrepresentative few over the representative, mainstream majority of a marginalized group in "exonerating" what the group says is hateful and harmful towards it, ends up being hateful and harmful in itself.

And that's what people who only listen to the few anti-Zionist Holocaust survivors are doing. They're basically saying, "Listen to Holocaust survivors!" but they mean only the few who say what the anti-Israel movement does. All the other survivors they ignore, dismiss, silence or even erase.

They're ignoring the voices of the overwhelming majority of Holocaust survivors who WERE (and are) Zionist. Who do not agree with this distorted narrative. Yad Vashem estimates that two thirds of Holocaust survivors came to Israel at the end of WWII, and many more supported Israel even when they chose to settle elsewhere. Just recently, we had a group of 870 American survivors (along with their descendants, altogether 2,500 Jews) thank Biden for standing with Israel after the Hamas massacre. These anti-Israel haters are also erasing the survivors who were themselves targeted on Oct 7, whether threatened, kidnapped, injured or murdered (I've talked about several in my posts on this blog). This anti-Israel mob is exploiting Hajo Meyer even in ignoring that if he had been alive and present in Israel, even just to visit a friend or family member, he would have been targeted, too. These haters are ignoring survivors who said that what Hamas has done is similar to what the Nazis did (I've talked about several of them in my posts on this blog, too. All can be found in my Israel tag).

It is unconscionable, to treat most Holocaust survivors like they don't count, and only see a (literal) handful of anti-Zionist ones as if they do. And it certainly does NOT show the respect the anti-Israel haters imply survivors are owed, through the demand that we all defer to the opinion of the survivors, but ONLY the few anti-Zionist ones.

All that said, off the top of my head, here's a small number of HUGE differences between the Holocaust, and the Israeli-Arab conflict, and anyone ignoring them IS guilty of distorting the Holocaust.

-> The Holocaust did NOT start due to Jews repeatedly murdering Germans on German soil, in an attempt to keep Germans down and prevent them from establishing self rule in the German ancestral land. The Holocaust was completely unprovoked, unjustified and one-sided. Every oppressive measure taken by the Nazis against the Jews, was motivated by antisemitism, and was NOT a reaction to Jewish anti-German terrorism, that the Nazis had to protect their German citizens from. Speaking of unprovoked, unjustified and for a very long time one-sided, that describes the Arab anti-Jewish violence that preceded the establishment of the State of Israel by almost 100 years. But Jewish self-defense in this conflict, which only started about 50 years after said violence began, was provoked, was justified, was a response to what was done to the Jews first.

-> The Holocaust did NOT consist of Jews on German soil collaborating militarily with several Jewish countries surrounding Germany, with the goal of these combined Jewish armies invading and wiping it off the map, in order to prevent German self rule. Guess what the Arabs did to the Jews...

-> The Holocaust did NOT entail repeated German efforts to find a solution for how Jews and Germans could live together on the same land. In pre-state Israel, Jews did try repeatedly to reach an understanding that would allow Jews and Arabs to peacefully share (and co-exist in) the Jewish ancestral land.

-> When Jews finally started rebelling against the Nazis, they did NOT try to get as many Jewish civilians as possible killed. On the contrary, the outbreak of the most famous Jewish revolt, the one in the Warsaw Ghetto, was postponed until the Nazis entered, and the Jewish fighters believed this to be the final 'liquidation' of the ghetto (meaning, the deportation and extermination of the roughly 60,000 Jews still alive there). Only then did they fight back, because (in their own words), they did not want their decision to rebel to cost another Jew "even one hour of life." Compare that to how Hamas has been using Palestinian civilians as human shields. Or even to the Arab leadership back in 1948, which did not hesitate in risking or displacing the entire Arab population in the Land of Israel, in favor of fighting what they called "an extermination war" against the Jews.

-> The Holocaust did NOT see a single day where Germans worked en masse to try and alleviate the suffering of Jews, whether by providing them with humanitarian aid, or by moving them to areas where they would be safe from death. That's in direct contrast to Israel's efforts to make Palestinians' lives better, whether through humanitarian aid, work permits in Israel that guarantee a higher salary and better social rights, medical treatments, warnings when a terrorist target is about to be struck, etc.

-> The Holocaust was NOT supposed to end with even one Jew alive at the end of it. The Germans were going for total extermination of the Jewish people. All Jews who had German citizens were stripped of it in 1935, even before the most murderous parts of this genocide commenced. In contrast, Israel did NOT seek to kill all Arabs, there were many calls for Arabs not to flee Israel and the war which the Arab leadership had started, at the end of the war Israel gave citizenship to 150,000 Arabs who did not leave and did not take arms against Jews, and there was even an offer for tens of thousands of Arabs to return (Weitzmann presented it to the UN), if they do so peacefully. Just a few thousands accepted that offer, but those who did, got citizenship and land.

-> The Nazis were so eager to kill every Jew, that they came to the conclusion they HAD to industrialize their genocide of the Jewish people. That's why they built extermination camps with gas chambers at their core. Auschwitz alone could, on certain days, kill about 20,000 people. No Jew was meant to leave those camps alive. The crematoria were mass murder factories. ANY crime that you want to compare to the Holocaust specifically, you have to show that it includes this industrialization element. Currently, NO GENOCIDE, no matter how horrific, has. And God help us all, I hope it stays that way (this is one of the reasons why the Holocaust mustn't be distorted or minimized. We can't prevent something from happening, if we don't understand what HAS happened, and that we're trying to stop from being repeated). There is not a SINGLE thing in the history of the Israeli-Arab conflict that comes CLOSE to being an industrialized form of massacre. Even the brutality of Hamas on Oct 7, the single bloodiest day in the history of this conflict for either side, doesn't come close.

-> While there are still Jews around, meaning the Holocaust as conceptualized by the Nazis failed, it was so deadly, that it DID lead to the murder of around 70-80% of the Jews living under the Nazi occupation over a short number of years. Even more than 80 years after the end of the Holocaust, Jews have not recovered demographically. Meanwhile, the Palestinian population has increased by about 10 times since Israel's Independence War. But let's say people wanna claim that just this current war is comparable to the Holocaust. There are presently around 7 million Arabs in the territories of the Jewish ancestral land, of which about 2 million are Israeli citizens. I'm gonna go with the anti-Israel narrative for a second, which claims ALL of them are occupied and oppressed by Israel (even though they're not). In order for the ruin of Palestinians to be indeed on the same level, that would mean 70-80% of them would have to be murdered by Israel during the war. Let's go with the lower percent, so it's easier for the anti-Israel crowd to reach the number of deaths that would support their claim. To have killed 70% of 7 million, that would mean Israel would have to kill 4.9 million Arabs in this so-called "genocide." Even if we exclude Israeli Arabs, and only focus on the 5 million Palestinians living in areas where the Israeli army currently operates (imagine the German Nazis allowing Jews safety inside Germany, and only killing them outside it *eyeroll*), that would mean at least 3.5 million Palestinians killed. But after almost 5 months of this war, the number of Palestinian fatalities, as claimed by Hamas, is around 30,000 people (I'm putting aside the fact that at least 12,000 are Hamas terrorists). The gap between what is happening, and what people who make this false comparison are implying is happening, is incomprehensible.

Sorry for the length, but I hope this is helpful!

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

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spnhunter4life · 11 months ago

Text

Not So Bad

Summary: Bad information on a hunt leads to a tense situation that ends in confessed feelings.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: none

Masterlist

I sighed as I flipped through the pages of the dusty old book I’d picked up out of a mix of nerves and boredom. The Winchester boys and I were in New York of all places. I hated it here. The constant loud noise of the bustling city, the air that was so far from the fresh country air I’d grown used to at the bunker, and, worst of all, the tall buildings that blocked out the sky mixing with the thick crowds of people made me feel severely claustrophobic.

But there was a monster here that needed to be killed, and the Winchesters always went where they were needed. And wherever they went, I went. So here I was, sitting in the library while the brothers went off to kill the thing. It was some sort of demi god named Daemon.

I’d never been much of one for fighting. I preferred to be the designated researcher, helping out in a mental capacity instead of physical. Both brothers insisted I at least learn basic self defense and worked with me on occasion, wanting me to be able to defend myself if the worst were to happen, but they never pushed me to come face down monsters with them.

The book I was currently looking through was one of the three I’d been able to find in this library about Daemon. I’d already found the information I was looking for and reported it to the Winchesters. But now my options were to sit here and wait for the hunt to be over so the boys could come pick me up, or make my way back to the motel on my own, and I was perfectly comfortable where I was. Or at least, comfortable enough that it wasn’t worth braving the crowded streets.

I turned another page, skimming the words quickly, barely absorbing what I was reading. Somewhere in the back of my mind I made the distant realization that I was in a library and could go find a more interesting book to pass the time. I didn’t give the idea much thought, knowing that it would be difficult to lose myself in a book when my boys were in danger. I knew how long they’d been living this life and how capable they were, but that didn’t make it any less scary anytime they took off. I knew every time could be the last, and I didn’t take that for granted.

I was about to close the book and at least find something to occupy myself that wasn’t a detailed explanation of the very thing the boys were facing down, when the sentence I’d just read actually registered in my mind. With a sharp inhale, my eyes darted back to the beginning of the paragraph.

It is a common misconception that Daemon is susceptible to oak stakes dipped in lamb’s blood – a rumor no doubt started by the mischievous deity himself – which is actually quite harmless to him. What most do not know is that Daemon is not a demigod at all, but the offspring of a demon and a faerie. As such, his one and only weakness is a silver blade dipped in holy water.

The blood drained from my face. I’d given the boys the wrong information and now they were off to face an angry demigod – or faerie demon hybrid, apparently – with weapons that may as well have been toothpicks for all the use they would be.

How could I have been stupid enough to not double check the information? I should know better than that!

I didn’t have time to wonder if maybe this bit of information was the incorrect one. Something in my gut told me it was right, and even if it wasn’t, I couldn’t risk letting them go to their deaths, thinking they had the upper hand. I pulled my phone out and immediately dialed Sam’s number. It rang a few times before going to voicemail. Cursing quietly to myself, I tried Dean instead. Voicemail again.

Fear for my boys overrode everything else. They were all I had left in the world and I absolutely could not lose them. I couldn’t live without my sweet, steady Sam. He was an invaluable source of knowledge on all topics imaginable and he had a calm, comforting disposition that seemed to instantly ease everyone in his vicinity. His sense of humor may not have been as pronounced as Dean’s, but I appreciated it just the same and wondered what would happen if I never got to hear his laugh or see his smile again.

And Dean. I couldn’t even let myself think what all I would be losing if he was gone. To an outsider, our relationship looked perfectly polite and comfortable. And it was, I suppose – we always got along well and never had a bad word to say to each other – if not a little strained. Although, that may have been just on my end. He never did seem to feel the tension that I did. I couldn’t blame him for not noticing either. After all, I did everything I could to keep him from knowing just how much I cared for him. Just how much I loved him.

Without stopping to think about it, I quickly exited the library and rushed out into the crowded streets I so despised. I ran in the direction of Daemon’s lair – we had known its location since early in the investigation and had only been working on the details of how to kill him – roughly shoving through crowds of people when necessary.

I was severely winded by the time I reached the abandoned building that Daemon resided in. I was panting in short breaths that seemed to fill my lungs with fire. I didn’t have time to stop though. I spotted the Impala parked in the alley and fumbled a key out of my pocket. I threw the trunk open, grabbed a silver knife and poured a generous helping of holy water over it. I barely remembered to slam the trunk shut before rushing inside.

I slowed down once I was inside. The building was large and I had no idea where any of the current occupants might be. I was just peeking around an open door, knife held at the ready, when a huge crash followed by a yell of pain sounded off to my right. My heart stopped. That was Dean.

Please let him be ok. Please let him be ok. And Sam too. Let them both be ok, I pleaded to any god who would listen.

I crept as quickly and quietly towards the sound of distress as I could, sounds of a fight leading me there. Fear like I’d never felt before ran like ice through my veins, but kept me moving forward. I rounded a corner and felt my heart stop again before picking up a racing rhythm at what I saw. Sam was sprawled on the ground. He’s only unconscious, I told myself. The alternative was unacceptable. Across the room was Dean, pinned to a wall by Daemon, straining to break the hybrid’s grip and thrust his oak stake into its side. Daemon clearly had the upper hand and wrenched the stake away from him, throwing it behind him. I barely stopped myself from calling out Dean’s name.

“You think you can kill me? A puny man, kill a god?” Daemon spat, the rage clear in his voice.

I charged towards them, knife raised and ready. I was only a few steps away when Dean saw me over Daemon’s shoulder. His eyes widened in surprise before he could stop the involuntary reaction. I saw him immediately look away again, not wanting to give me away, but it was too late. Daemon had seen it. He whirled around to face me and knocked me aside without a thought. It was as easy as if he’d been swatting at an irritating fly. Dean yelled my name just as I collided with the wall. My breath, which I hadn’t even quite gotten back after my long sprint here, left me in a whoosh.

I watched in fascination and horror as Dean took advantage of the momentary distraction to rush at Daemon. He kicked his legs out from under him before climbing on top of him, pinning him to the ground. They struggled for a few seconds before Dean was able to snatch the oak stake from where it had been discarded on the ground.

“No, Dean! The knife!” I yelled to him. I had dropped it at some point between Daemon’s blow and hitting the wall. Dean didn’t question me, didn’t hesitate before dropping the useless weapon and searching for the knife. But it was out of his reach and it was clear he wouldn’t be able to hold Daemon down much longer. I started to struggle to my feet to grab it for him, but before I was able to, a large body ran into my line of sight, blocking my view of Dean, and stooping to pick up the knife.

I tensed, terrified that there was some unknown second thing to deal with now, but soon realized it was only Sam. He picked up the knife and turned to his brother. Without speaking a word to each other, Dean rolled out of the way just as Sam plunged the knife down into the heart of the monster.

Dean was red faced and breathing hard – and who could blame him after wrestling with a being with supernatural strength – but otherwise seemed alright, so I turned my attention to Sam who was closer and who I worried could have any number of injuries after being knocked unconscious.

“Sam, are you-”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Dean demanded. Stunned at the hardness of his voice, I turned to look at him and realized that what I’d mistaken for exertion was actually anger. He was livid. I’d never seen him so angry, at least not with me. Why was he angry? This completely unexpected reaction left me feeling small and confused.

“What?” I asked. “What do you mean? I was just trying-”

“You could have gotten yourself killed!” He yelled. He took a step in my direction and a grimace crossed his face as his leg seemed to struggle slightly under his weight. He grunted, the only sound he would let escape. I remembered his yell, the noise that had guided me in this direction to begin with. He was hurt. Dean, who sat stoically with teeth gritted, never letting more than a grunt escape while Sam dug bullets out of him or sewed up horrible gashes, had cried out in pain. That had scared me more than anything else tonight, the idea of how badly he must be hurt to not be able to hide it.

“Dean,” Sam started in a warning tone. He might have been about to defend me or to tell Dean to cool his temper so we could talk calmly, but I would never know. Anger flared up in me, completely overriding the confusion and uncertainty Dean’s words had caused.

“Well you nearly were killed! So I guess it’s a good thing I’m here, isn’t it?” I shouted back. I wasn’t actually angry, I knew, just reliving the terror of the last half hour mixed with the relief of seeing them both ok and the worry at their injuries. In short, I was overwhelmed and Dean yelling at me had frayed my already shot nerves.

“We would have been fine.” Dean deflected.

“No you wouldn’t have! When I got here Sam was on the ground, dead for all I knew, and you were hardly about to win in a battle of strength. And even if you had, your weapon was useless. You would have died!”

“You’re the one who decided you didn’t want to fight! And that’s fine, you know we’re ok with that. But you can’t just not train and then run into a fight with no idea what you’re doing!”

“Guys, maybe we should-” Sam tried again.

“No!” I yelled. I saw a look of surprised hurt in his eyes. I felt bad for snapping at him when he hadn’t done anything wrong, but I was too fired up to backtrack now. “If Dean hasn’t had enough of a fight tonight, then let’s fight! I may not be trained in hand to hand and weapons the way you are, but I assure you, I can yell at you all night long.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed and I saw the muscle jump in his jaw.

“Sam, can you give us a minute?” He asked in a forced calm tone.

Sam hesitated, looking back and forth between the two of us before agreeing. “Alright. But you’ve got ten minutes before I’m coming back in after you to make sure you’re not strangling each other,” he warned before leaving the room.

We glared at each other for a minute, neither of us speaking. After what felt simultaneously like an eternity and only a moment, Dean started talking again in that tone that was an attempt at being calm, but I could clearly hear the tenseness and anger underneath.

“You can’t just-”

“You said that already,” I interrupted immediately. His jaw ticked again, and I knew shouting at him when he was trying to deescalate the situation was not appreciated. He tried again in that same infuriating tone, a little more strained this time.

“Sam and I hardly need you jumping in to protect us. We know what we’re doing.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what is?” He yelled back, patience worn thin.

“It doesn’t matter if you know what you’re doing or not because you couldn’t have won! I was doing some more reading after you guys left and I realized I gave you the wrong weapon.”

“Then you call us! You don’t come running in after us!”

“I did call you! Neither of you picked up! I couldn’t just sit there and wait for you to die!”

“Of course you could have! Don’t you think we’d rather take our chances with bad weapons than to have you in the line of fire?”

“What would you have done Dean?” I screamed at him. “If it were you sitting around knowing that I was going after a monster with a weapon that wouldn’t kill it? What would you have done?” I felt confident this would be the end of it. After all, there was no doubt in my mind what he would have done, and he couldn’t possibly deny it.

“That’s not the same thing,” he said. He was still angry, but he said this in a quieter voice, the kind of quiet that meant I’d truly struck a nerve.

“Why?” I asked, ready to swoop in with the metaphorical killing blow and win the argument. “Because I can’t fight, so of course I’d need you to come save me?”

“No.”

“Hypothetically saying I was as well trained as you then. Or that it was Sam. The point still stands. You would have done exactly what I did. You wouldn’t just sit back and let us die, so why would I?”

“I told you, that’s not what I meant,” he snapped. “How do you think we would feel if something happened to you? What if we couldn’t protect you and you got hurt?”

“How do you think I felt, Dean?” I stomped over to him, getting right in his face, letting him see how much I meant what I was saying. “I didn’t know if you would be alive or not when I got here.” I stopped for a breath, the intensity of the emotions I’d felt in that moment hitting me once again. “Don’t tell me I don’t understand what it would feel like. I know exactly what it feels like.”

“It’s not the same,” he said again, stubbornly.

“How is it not the same? If anything, it’s worse for me. You and Sam at least have each other. If I lose you guys, I have no one. I will not lose you. Do you understand me? If that means putting my own life on the line, I’m ok with that.”

“I’m not!”

“Well that’s just too bad, isn’t it, because it’s my life, not yours!”

“You’re not understanding me! If you would just let me explain-”

But apparently I wouldn’t. I wasn’t doing it on purpose, but I just needed him to understand what I was saying. So I cut him off in the middle of his request that I not do so.

“No, I told you that I understand perfectly. It’s you who isn’t understanding! I’ve never been more scared in my whole life than I was when I heard you yelling in pain.” In the back of my mind, I registered that Dean’s expression had turned from anger to determination. But my brain didn’t seem to fully process this fact, not that I would have known what to do with that information even if I had. My emotions were driving me now, and there was no stopping the words pouring from my mouth.

“I thought that whatever happened, it must be really bad. And maybe I was too late to save you. And it’s my own stupid fault you needed saving in the first place. How could I-”

This time, Dean cut me off. It was only fair, after all I’d done the same to him. This was a much nicer, much more pleasant, much more unexpected way of interrupting though. He leaned down, crashing his lips against mine. As my body seemed to be running on instinct and adrenaline right now, I responded immediately, wrapping my arms around his neck, meeting his demanding kiss with enthusiasm.

I ran one of my hands through his hair, enjoying the feel of the soft strands between my fingers. My other hand ran down over his shoulder, to his bicep, then over to his chest, loving the strength I could feel in all those hard earned muscles. His hands were wandering too, in my hair one second, traveling over my back the next, and then on my waist.

My brain, which seemed to have shut down for the past few moments – minutes? – decided to start working again, practically screaming at me that this was Dean I was kissing. Dean, apparently experiencing the same returning brain function as me, pulled away. He took a careful step back, creating some space between us. That was probably good. I couldn’t think with him so close. Not after that. His cheeks were flushed red for a whole new reason now and his hair was sticking up in an annoyingly attractive way. I could see by the surprise in his eyes that he hadn’t been planning on the kiss being that intense.

“It’s not the same,” he repeated, his voice as calm as if we were having a normal conversation on any old day. As if we hadn’t been arguing minutes before. As if he hadn’t just given me the most mind numbing, spine tingling kiss of my life. “Because I love you. And I know that that probably wasn’t the best way to go about telling you, but I need you to understand what it would mean to me to lose you. If you lost me, you’d lose a friend. It would suck, but you would move on. But you’re more than that to me, and I don’t know how I could survive losing you.”

“Have you not paid attention to a thing I said?” I asked him, taking a step forward to eliminate the space he’d put between us. “I told you, if I lost you and Sam I would have nothing.”

“Yeah, but that’s not really true. You could make more friends easily enough.”

“But you’re not just my friends. Sam is my best friend, true, but I love him like he’s my brother. Losing him would hurt me just as bad as losing an actual brother. And you… I couldn’t move on from you any easier than you could move on from me. I love you too.”

“Yeah,” Dean winced. “Like a brother. I know.”

“Not like a brother,” I said, wrinkling my nose a little. “Do you really think I would kiss you like that, or at all for that matter, if that’s how I thought of you?”

“I would hope not,” he agreed.

“So, basically, you’ve been yelling at me this whole time about not understanding you when, in reality, I understand perfectly, just like I said from the beginning.” I couldn’t help but gloat a little at being right.

The corner of Dean’s mouth twitched slightly in a repressed smile.

“You know, I think you owe me for scaring me nearly to death earlier,” he said happily.

“I owe you?”

“Yes. When you came running in here I swear my heart stopped. And then I had to watch you get thrown across the room…” He winced at the memory and I could tell how upset it made him, but he quickly shook it off and kept up his cheerful tone. “I think you took at least three years off my life. Lucky for you I’ll take payment in kisses. One for every year less I’ll live thanks to you.”

Part of me wanted to argue, but the other part was too giddy to even care.

“Alright,” I agreed easily. I stretched up onto my tiptoes and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his mouth. I wanted to continue the intense kiss from earlier, but there would be time for that later. This seemed like the appropriate response to his gentle, teasing tone. “There’s one.”

I kissed him again, and then once more, feeling like I could burst with joy the whole time.

“There,” I said after the third kiss. “Does that make us even?”

“For now,” he smiled. “I have a feeling I’ll be finding lots of excuses for more in the future.”

“How’s this for an excuse? I think you took at least five years off my life. I’ll be needing some compensation here as well.”

He grinned. “And I fully intend to pay up. Once we’re home though. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get out of here.”

I was a little disappointed to have to be done kissing him. But I knew he was right. We should get out of here. I knew he was in pain, and I still didn’t know how Sam was doing. Besides, it was only a temporary stop. Once we were home I would have as much time with him as I wanted.

Home. Just the mention of it made me long for it even more. But even though I couldn’t wait to be back, even though I’d spent the whole time here waiting for the moment we could leave, the past few minutes with Dean had made the whole thing worth it.

Maybe New York wasn’t so bad after all.

Tags: @123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28

#not so bad #supernatural #fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #confessed feelings #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x original character

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mustainegf · 8 months ago

Text

Angry Again

WARNINGS: smut, unprotected sex, angry sex, praise

WC: 2.5k

I knew Dave was pissed off. It was never hard to tell. He’d get all huffy and quiet, roll his eyes while running his hand through his hair, and then angrily pluck at his guitar. It was the same every time.

Tonight, he was especially angry. I'd never seen him so mad before and it scared me a little bit. I knew Dave would never do anything to hurt me, I’d just never seen him so upset.

He was pissed about Metallica—because of course he was. They had been dragging him around in the press quite a bit as of recent. While Dave had definitely done his fair share of badmouthing, that didn’t change his fiery temper.

"Fucking hell, Dave," I said. "What's gotten into you?" He didn't respond; he just kept on plucking his guitar and scowling at the floor as if the world were a source of great displeasure to him. “Come on, how can I help?” I sat down next to him on the couch.

He looked at me, his eyes dark and angry. Instead of answering my question, he just huffed in anger. "Fucking Metallica," he said through gritted teeth as if I'd asked him to explain the entirety of their career in one sentence. "I know sweetheart... but there’s nothing we can do," I sighed. "They're such pricks, Lars can never keep his stupid little mouth shut." He hissed.

I knew he was gonna die on this hill, and I wondered what I could possibly do to ease his nerves. "Dave, I know you're upset but..." He cut me off. "I'm not upset, I just hate them." He said. I fought the urge to chuckle at his blatant lie. It was clear he wasn't gonna budge on this one so I decided to try a different tactic.

“Honey, you’re stressing too much,” I reached over, slowly rubbing my hand over his chest. "You're always so tense, I know you hate them but they aren't worth it." He took a deep breath and looked at me. I gently let my hand fall from his chest to his thigh, slowly inching closer to his groin. I was beginning to get an idea of how I could get his mind off of this.

"Dave, you're so tense. Let me help." I said as my hand reached his groin and began to rub it gently through the fabric of his jeans. He let out a deep breath but didn't say anything in response, at least not yet. “Stop, I know what you’re trying to do. I’m not in the mood.” He grumbled. I looked at him, my hand still on his groin.

"You're always in the mood." He let out a sigh and rolled his eyes as he continued to play with no real purpose or direction. “I told you I’m not in the mood.” He glared at me. I knew he wanted to, he just wouldn’t admit it to himself, he had too much pride. “Aww, too busy thinking about Metallica?” I jutted my lip out, fake pouting.

Dave's eyes were sharp as they watched me. “Don’t” he forced out. I knew he was still mad, but his cock didn't care. It was already hardening under my hand as it strained against the fabric of his jeans and boxers. I tilted my head, still ‘pouting’.

Dave snapped, harshly setting his guitar down before grabbing me. He grunted softly, firmly holding me as he swiftly made his way to our bedroom. I giggled, enjoying the way he was so rough with me. I knew I had won, but it was now his turn to have his fun.

He flung our bedroom door open and slammed it close as he tossed me onto our bed. I squealed, laughing as he climbed on top of me. He roughly grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head with one hand while the other trailed down to my crotch.

"You’re such a brat huh?” He growled. I let out a soft moan as he began to grind his crotch against mine, rubbing me through the fabric of our clothes with desperate precision. "Think you’re gonna get away with this?” He snarled. I let out a small moan as he continued to grind against me.

"Fine, I’ll give you what you want. But you’re gonna take whatever I give you, yeah?" He growled, roughly grinding his cock into my heat through our clothes. I nodded, moaning softly as he continued to push against me.

"You're such a brat." He growled again before leaning down and roughly kissing my neck with bruising force. He was fueled purely by lust and rage. I let out a loud moan, my hands reaching up to grab his head as he continued kissing me.

"Fuck, Dave." I let out. He growled as he continued to grind against me with more force and intensity than before.

Daves needy hands found the hem of my shirt, pulling it off of me impossibly fast. He threw it to the side. He roughly grabbed my bra, pulling it off of me with the same speed and need. I let out a surprised gasp as he roughly grabbed my tits, squeezing them with desperation.

He let his fingernails dig in just slightly, enough to leave pinkish scratches. He pushed his long hair back, his mouth darting to the plush sensitive flesh. I let out a loud groan as he began to suck on my nipple, his teeth gently scraping it on purpose. "Oh..." I whined.

He looked up at me, his eyes dark with lust. "You like that?" I nodded quickly as he continued to suck on my nipple and play with the other one in between squeezing them both roughly. "Fuck, I love it."

Dave’s hands trailed down to my jeans and began unbuttoning them with a desperate need that made me beg softly in anticipation of what was about to come next.

He yanked my jeans off of me, throwing them to the side. He wrapped his thumbs around my panties, practically ripping them off of me. “Always so pretty for me, yeah?” Dave groaned, softly kissing my throbbing clit. I let out a surprised gasp as he roughly grabbed both ankles and pulled them up so that they were on his shoulders.

"Dave…" He kissed and nipped down my ankles and shins, leaving love marks on my shuddering skin. "I'm gonna give you what you want, but I get to do whatever the fuck I like." He growled.

Dave sat up, my legs falling from his shoulders. He hastily pulled off his t-shirt, his toned body now on full display to my hungry eyes. I licked my lips, watching him as he roughly pulled off his jeans. He threw them to the side before grabbing me by both ankles again.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard, I bet you’d like that huh?” I ogled at the man before me, his hands viscously stripping himself of his boxers. His erection sprang up as he roughly grabbed his cock and began to stroke it. He was going quick, I could see how badly he wanted this. He needed it.

"You want this?" He growled before spitting onto his hand for more lubrication. "Yes." I whined desperately. He smiled, his eyes dark with lust. "You're gonna take it." I nodded quickly as he roughly grabbed my ankles and spread them wide open for him to see me in all of my ‘glory’.

“Look at you,” he scoffed, glancing between my face of submission and my dripping core. He was amused with how hopeless I was, he’d hardly even touched me and I was already soaked. “So horny huh, all just because of me?” He snarled, kissing down my breasts.

I groaned, brushing his long orange locks away to see his face. He was so handsome. He always had been.

My body was begging for any sort of friction, my hand finding my clit. I teased myself with small circles, but the relief didn’t last long until Dave noticed. "What the fuck are you doing?" He growled, grabbing my hand and stopping me. I whined as he pushed it away from myself.

“You were the one who wanted this so bad, can’t keep your hands away?” He watched me smugly. He sat up slowly, pulling my hands together before holding my wrists down above my head with only one of his hands. I had no control, he was too strong.

He brushed his curls back, smirking down at me. Daves free hand found his hard cock, forcing me to watch as he pleased himself. "You want it?" He growled. I nodded hastily, my eyes glued to his hand as he stroked himself slowly and deliberately in front of me.

“Let me hear you,” he grinned, his hand quickening. I watched as precum leaked from his tip and dripped onto my stomach. "Please," I whined. He groaned, his hand quickening even more as he watched me squirm beneath him. His eyes were dark with lust and need for release.

"Louder, I can’t hear you." I whined, my eyes glued to his hand. "Please!" He smiled cruelly at me before grabbing the base of himself and jerking off in front of me with a rougher pace than he had been using earlier. “Come on baby, convince me you deserve it.” He spoke lowly. I whined, my eyes glued to his hand.

"Please, please let me have it. I need you so bad." I pleaded as he continued to jerk himself off in front of my face. My eyes were wide with desperation and arousal at the sight before me. “Good…” he muttered, nudging up to line his cock with me. He was still holding my hands above my head.

“Yes, yes… Dave…” I begged quietly. Dave only grinned at this, chuckling to himself. "You're so needy, aren't you?" He teased. I nodded quickly as he positioned himself at my entrance and firmly pushed into me with a groan of pleasure from both him and myself.

“I’ll let go of your hands when I’m done,” he grunted, his hips showing me no mercy. I knew this would de-stress him, and it seemed to be quickly doing the trick.

He was quick to get into a rhythm, his hips slamming against me with undeniable force. I whined and moaned as he used my body for release from the stress of that stupid fucking band—Metallica.

I knew he would cum quickly, seeing as he teased me by jerking himself off. I knew he was purely after his own orgasm first.

He was rough with me, his hands gripping my wrists tightly as he held them above my head.

He mercilessly fucked me, holding me down as he did as he pleased. I moaned and whined in pleasure at the feeling of him using me for release. I didn't mind, not one bit. He was just using me for his own pleasure and that turned me on even more than he already did. I knew he cared about my own pleasure as well, but I was willing to let him do what he wanted this time, so he could blow off his pent up steam.

He groaned as my walls clenched around him in a tight grip of ecstasy. His thrusts were becoming increasingly sloppy, and I knew what was on its way.

"Fuck, fuck... I'm gonna cum." He grunted. His hips shoved into me one last time before he pulled out and jerked himself off in front of my face again as his hot seed spilled over the skin around my pussy lips.

I was still desperate for my own orgasm, I was willing to do anything that might bring me any sort of pleasure. I dragged my finger through his puddle of cum that dropped down my slit. I brought my finger to my mouth, sucking off the salty taste. “That taste good?” He asked slyly. I nodded with a grin back up at him.

His hand around my wrists loosened, allowing me to bring my arms back down. I grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down to me, bringing my lips up against his. He growled into the kiss as he tasted himself on my tongue.

“You still needa cum?” He asked. His voice was deep and husky as my vision was darkened with the shadow of his body overtop of me. I nodded quickly, my eyes glued to his. Dave shifted, grabbing my hips and switching places with me.

I was now on top of him, his cock still throbbing. "Ride it out, pretty." He commanded in a low voice as he thrust up into me with a force that I wasn’t expecting. I cried out in rapture, my hands finding his chest as he continued to thrust up into me.

"Fuck, you’re always tighter the 2nd time around,” he grinned viciously. I bounced along with his lazy thrusts, my hands grabbing at his chest for support. I could feel his hands gripping my hips, holding me in place as he continued to thrust up into me. His hungry gaze was locked on my bouncing breasts.

"You like it when I look at you like this?" He asked. I nodded quickly, my eyes glued to his as he continued to thrust up into me. "Yeah? You like being watched?" He growled. I nodded again, my eyes rolling back as he continued to thrust up into me. "You like being watched while you ride my dick?" He asked in his deep voice that shot shivers down my spine and straight between my legs.

“I’m gonna cum…” I cried out, my forehead falling to his sweaty shoulder. One of his hands found the back of my head, softly caressing my hair. "That's it, baby... cum for me." He growled. I cried out as my orgasm hit me in a flood of euphoria that left me weak at the knees. He groaned as my walls clenched around him, milking his cock for all it was worth.

"Fuck... fuck..." he grunted out as I continued to ride the wave of pleasure that washed over me in a torrential downpour. He groaned as he shot his load deep inside of me. I fell forward, my forehead resting against the side of his neck and shoulder.

"Dave..." I whimpered. He kissed the top of my head, his hands running up and down my back as he slowly softened inside me. "You okay?" He asked softly after a few minutes had passed by in silence between us both. I nodded against his chest, my eyes closed as he slowly softened inside me. "Yeah... that was amazing."

He chuckled softly at the sound of my voice in awe and amazement. "Still angry?” I asked with a tired chuckle. He chuckled back, his fingers trickling up and down my spine. "No... I'm good." He said.

I slowly shifted, his cock slipping out of me with a wet sound that made us both chuckle softly.

I sat my head up with what energy I had left, peering down at the beautiful man below me. “I knew it would make you feel better,” I giggled, running my knuckles past his cheek. His short stumble tickling my skin.

“You know me too well,” Dave shrugged. “So next time you’re angry at Metallica…” I trailed off, watching his calm face as he listened with intent. “You’ve got me in your bed, and they don’t.”

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inchidentally · 2 months ago

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"short and easier to read" babe I am so sorry to you and everyone else for how my insane posts come out - it's why I link to so much stuff bc it is a struggleee for me to not write just run-on sentences ;__; but I do get what you mean and I promise I tried my best - it's def shorter than the og and in smaller bites if that helps ??

(I actually wrote this on someone else's laptop so it's got proper punctuation and capitalization and everything!)

For those who don’t know: Oscar is an acts of service guy Lando is a words of affirmation guy. Let’s remember that someone’s love language is how they choose to express themselves, not what they should demand of others!

Oscar is also very much not a PR guy, for anyone totally oblivious to the obvious (and that all his "greatest hits" in PR were done unintentionally or bc he's awkward or bc his mom is cooler than him). For example, Oscar brings up his girlfriend of 4-5 years a fair amount but it’s almost hilariously not gushy or romantic (having a “cuddle” is as far as it goes lasfgjlsagfl). But he’s said himself that for the most part he’d prefer not to have too much private life available to the public. *His downtime with Lando joins in with all his other social life in being extremely limited to the public.

The “thanking the sponsors” thing is one of Oscar’s safe, approved speeches he pulled from Andrea so that Oscar doesn’t have to do spontaneous on-camera speaking. Sorry but not all of us are good at it and it’s wayyyy easier to just have some rehearsed pre-approved soundbites. He tends to have a few that he repeats for a while until he updates the list lsafjslafhlafh.

He also very openly struggles to do on-camera speaking and no one knows that better than Lando who’s had to help him a huge amount.

It does seem to be mostly cameras that make him stressed bc he was fine thanking Lando for his help in Baku at the fan stage in Singapore and overall he can use more of his dry humor when he's speaking to people rather than just to a camera.

Lando’s recent inclusion of Oscar in his media responses to this degree is a reaction to Hungary and Monza - normally, his post race responses focus on himself and his own performance (which is literally normal and the default for drivers!!). The recent emphasis on teamwork/Oscar is something he feels he needs to do with his own PR work right now. He’s a smart man who’s been doing this a long time, so his reasons are valid no matter what fans think. He’s not sitting there working out or analyzing Oscar’s PR, just his own.

People are absolutely running away with themselves over Monza and ignoring that apart from that one moment, Oscar is widely popularly seen as the supportive teammate role. To the point where last year and even part of this year, Lando was criticized by a lot of fans for not acknowledging Oscar enough.

Going off of that, let’s show how easy it is to take PR and media to make one of them look bad by turning it around onto Lando (!! this is for an example, I do NOT endorse hating on Lando for any of it !!)

Lando openly disliked being referred to as the “older teammate” and kinda left Oscar to his own devices so much last season that Oscar wouldn’t know where he was going a lot of the time and even semi-joked “my teammate’s abandoned me” (again, reminder this was not a source of drama for anyone but fans). He got called a little duckling a lot bc he’d tail Lando closely so as not to lose him. In fact it started irking some people that Lando would spend so much time with Carlos or Daniel and not getting to know his new teammate and helping him out with his rookie season of F1 the way Carlos did for Lando.

In every team photo where Lando has had a podium and Oscar has had nothing (and sometimes due at least in part to team orders!) which is very often! the comments sections have always had plenty of ‘Oscar is such a great team player, always happy and showing up for Lando no matter what’. So the whole ‘Oscar doesn’t do enough for Lando’ narrative is extremely recent and at odds with the rest of reality.

Please read the very first part of my enormous full post bc Lando didn’t thank Oscar for his Miami win, he praised his driving.

Even though at Silverstone this year Lando got on the podium and Oscar didn’t, Oscar made the fan stage all about bringing Lando out of his disappointment and even said he did the shoey “to make us feel better” and then dedicated the top row of his IG that week to photos and videos of him and Lando. Special note that this is in no way Oscar’s home race and he was solely seeing it as emotional for Lando and McLaren - and he had zero reason to personally be very happy after that weekend.

I’ve seen Melbourne this year get mentioned in the team orders discussions on my fyps, so that’s a handy example in many ways: Despite Melbourne being Oscar’s literal hometown race - and Lando even filming some Quadrant stuff at Oscar’s childhood karting track where a corner is named after him* - this year Lando didn’t acknowledge Oscar really at all over the weekend until someone mentioned him at the end of the podium press conference. Lando acknowledged that Oscar following team orders made his (Lando’s) drive a bit easier in Melbourne this year but said that he was faster than Oscar and deserved third over him anyway. (Good contrast to Hungary and even Carlos stating that something an undercut due to pit strategy shouldn’t erase one teammate being faster/more dominant in a race in order to give the other teammate the win!) He did PR work with pretty much everyone except Oscar actually, even doing promo for his (Lando’s) dad’s electric scooters on the new dotmov acc. Kind of like him being on a similar PR campaign at Singapore this year because of a sneak preview of Quadrant rebranding and announcing the Landostand at Silverstone - he went for the biggest PR hits and posted Daniel on his jpg account, did a golf day with Carlos and Max F and was more active on socials than he had been for months. All while only having Oscar in one photo out of the whole weekend’s carousel despite the McLaren double podium. You could even read into him cutting Oscar and Oscar’s trophy out of two of the shots if you wanted! (He did include Oscar in the big group photo after the podium celebrations.)

*I saw some ppl say he didn't include Oscar in the Melbourne karting filming bc McLaren doesn't cross over with Quadrant, which isn't true. Zak has shares in Quadrant and Bianca has been included in the Quadrant rebranding launch with Lando's Singapore helmet design.

See how easy that was to flip it around?? If you’re even slightly biased against a driver or never see flaws in another- or are dying for two teammates to hate each other - then confirmation bias will always find plenty of “evidence”! Because the reality is that after the Austin GP, Lando found his “older teammate” mode and began helping Oscar out with his rookie year. In Melbourne, Lando spent his first day filming for his .mov account including the Oscar jersey and merch he came across - and Oscar mentioned how he and Lando talked about Lando filming at his old track. (Again, not PR coordinated or filmed, just mentioned!) And that after the Singapore race this year, they beamed at each other every other second of that night, filmed a deliriously happy post race video and joked in the cool down room - I honestly doubt have even noticed yet what the other has posted to IG salfhsalfafa. All of the negativity fans are coming up with is their own personal spin and does not resemble how Lando and Oscar are behaving to or speaking about each other.

They base their relationship on their conversations and interactions solely away from the public and the cameras and don’t do any inflammatory commentary about each other. They bragged about the door in the team hub that separates their drivers rooms from everyone else and leaves them open only to each other. Their communications only matter to each other when in private.

Segueing on from that: media and social media are literally PR. Lando is extremely skilled at it now and Oscar is not at all naturally skilled and is still learning. Lando is quick to be able to adapt his media responses, Oscar is not and often sounds stilted and uncomfortable. But it still has nothing to do with how they think of each other and talk to each other personally.

And “Landoscar” has never had the typical PR bromance aspect that we all love in other teammates, and it never will. Lando and Oscar mention but don’t broadcast or package their downtime together and they don’t share their private dynamic with fans or the media apart from the glimpses we see in more relaxed content. It’s just their choice! And just like it doesn’t mean Lando and Oscar are less friends because they don’t PR their relationship, it doesn’t mean the friendships who do utilize PR are less friends!

And tbh that’s a good note to leave on: that seeing two drivers with no PR to gain from openly liking and respecting each other should mean that we as fans place less importance on the PR responses they give to media and put on social media. So many people want them to hate each other (Netflix even begging them outright) and rivalries get far more headlines and fan engagement, that if these two didn’t like each other or even were blah about each other, they wouldn’t waste time trying to fake it (side note ppl actually thought this joke was deadly serious for a short while). F1 isn’t team sports, no one really cares if drivers or teams appear “friendly” unless they’re desperate for money/engagement to keep them afloat (even there, Alpine prove it clearly isn’t a priority to have friendly teammates when you’re lower down the grid!)

There is absolutely nothing to be gained for them in faking the smiles and laughter and twinning. Equally there’s nothing to be gained by us as fans in judging them and their relationship based on their PR responses and PR work. Lando beams and smiles the same at Oscar after all of Oscar’s awkward, stiff debrief speeches and I kind of want one of these crazy stans to say to him that Oscar is a bad team player and doesn’t show Lando enough appreciation just to watch what his adorable face does in response (don’t do that I’m joking).

#inchreplies #(did a screenshot bc I never know what shows up in posted submissions)#landoscar #I pray this is more coherent I'm sorry guys #this is why it takes me forever to write fic #to make my brain work right with words is a monumental task #mostly it's grammar syntax etc but jfc what is going on in my brain #inchidentallyanessay

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c-e-d-dreamer · 4 months ago

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I Can Take the Upper Hand and Touch Your Body: Part One

A/N: it's here! It's officially @acotar-omegaverse-week party people! Did you know there is a serious LACK of Nessian omegaverse? It's a crime. So you know I had to come out here and represent us Nessian girlies. So I hope everyone enjoys Nesta and Cassian "turning up the heat" in hopefully the best way 😉 Seriously, this is very filthy. The plot? Not really there. But there is plenty of smut 😇

Read on AO3 // Next Part

The first thing Nesta notices when the elevator doors open on the fifteenth floor is the scent. It’s unmistakable, a sweet mix of pheromones that is all too indisputable; although this particular scent seems to be tinged distinctly with pine, with the wind kissed breeze that blows off the mountains. Already, Nesta’s body begins to respond as that scent floods her senses, heat flaring through her veins and down to her toes, but she’s quick to snuff out those flames, refusing to let even an ember continue to breathe.

Presenting as an omega had been everything Nesta’s mother ever wanted for her. Since as early as she can remember, it was all Elinor Archeron ever seemed to speak about. She’d brush through the long strands of Nesta’s hair, braiding them back with the same harshness she took to parenting, and remind her eldest daughter that a good omega could secure the best alpha match, ensure the family’s security.

Her mother always made it sound like it was powerful to be an omega, but to Nesta, it felt more like a life sentence. A cold iron collar settling around her neck, around her wrists, shackling her to a life condemned as a trussed up broodmare.

A blessing from the Mother. That’s what Elinor had said when Nesta presented much earlier than most girls. What she said when she threw a ball to celebrate the presentation. What she said when she paraded Nesta around the room, when alphas twice Nesta’s age leered with too sharp teeth and too eager eyes at her body, pawed at her dress and her arms. It took all of Nesta’s willpower to hold her tongue against the word she really wanted to utter the whole night.

Curse.

So when Elinor finally passed, when Nesta was finally free, she became everything her mother would have hated. Cold. Callous. Stubborn. She swallowed enough suppressants until she could push through university and up the corporate ladder. Instead of the simpering, sweet omega the world expected, Nesta became one that snarls and bites. Returned every look she got from an alpha with a sneer of her own, every honeyed word with clipped ones, until alphas preferred to steer clear of her.

Nesta Archeron decided that she may be an omega, but she was in control.

Sighing softly, Nesta weaves her way down the hall and toward the source of the scent. The closer she gets, the thicker that scent becomes. She swears she can feel it wrap around her throat, swears she can taste it on the back of her tongue. It prickles across her skin and beckons her closer still. Nesta has to take a moment to close her eyes and breathe through her mouth, fighting back the fire she can feel threatening to crash over her and flush her skin, the shutter daring to skitter up her spine.

She rolls her shoulders and straightens her spine, continuing down the hall, but her steps stutter to a stop when she realizes exactly which office she’s being led to. Of course. Of course, it would be his office.

Alphas are large by nature, but Cassian Valdarez seems to take it to another level. He’s all wide shoulders and chest, all large hands and thick thighs. With dark waves of hair tumbling down to his shoulders and stubble scraped along the hard cut of his jaw, he looks like the sort of rugged male that belongs deep in the mountains. And yet, despite his size, he always seems quick to disarm with easy smiles and a warm laugh.

Nesta had hated him on sight.

Every cocky smirk that tugged up his lips, every drawled sweetheart that tumbled past them. Every time he called her Nes despite her correcting him on numerous occasions. It all fueled her endless annoyance with him. It didn’t help he’d been all but handed this job, adoptive brother to the CEO of Night Inc. apparently. Alphas were always just handed things.

Nesta doesn’t think she’ll ever forget his first day, when he ran into her in the breakroom. She had snapped at him, as she often did when an alpha dared to look in her direction, but rather than get that wide-eyed shocked expression, the unimpressed curled lip that usually came when she stepped over the line of omega expectations, he had merely thrown his head back and laughed, hazel eyes sparking as though the whole thing was delightful. It was infuriating.

Almost as infuriating as right now.

Nesta doesn’t even bother knocking. She swings open the door and strides right into the office, demanding, “what are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” Cassian drawls, looking up from his work with that cocksure smirk of his. “Did you forget that I work here? You’d think my name on the office door would remind you.”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Nesta hisses, rolling her eyes. “I could scent you all the way from the elevators.”

That comment has Cassian’s grip tightening around his pen enough for his knuckles to turn white. “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit. Go home.”

“Is that an order? Last time I checked, I didn’t take them from you.”

“I’m not fucking around, Cassian. Go home and fuck your rut out with your omega,” Nesta bites out, stalking closer toward Cassian’s desk.

She doesn’t miss the way that stupid smirk of his starts to slip for a moment, the way he glances away from her. There’s no other way to describe the expression other than shame and embarrassment. It draws a derisive snort out of her.

“You cannot be serious. You don’t have an omega to help you through your rut?”

“I was working on it,” Cassian growls lowly from between his clenched teeth.

“You’re pathetic.”

The bite in her words is enough to pull his eyes back to hers, the hazel of them blazing around his dilated pupils. “Careful, Nes.”

“Or what?” Nesta drawls with a roll of her eyes. “It is pathetic. What kind of alpha doesn’t have an omega for his rut?”

Cassian pushes up from his office chair, and Nesta is reminded just how large he is. He stands almost a head taller than her, and she has to tilt her chin up to maintain eye contact. With his wide frame, he practically looms over her, and this close together, all Nesta can do is breathe in lungfuls of his scent, feel that scent wrap around her limbs and send goosebumps prickling across her skin.

“Is that an offer?”

“You wish,” Nesta snaps.

She shoves hard at his chest, but of course he doesn’t even move an inch. Instead, his hands curl around her wrists, holding her there. The warmth of his touch and his dizzying scent still flooding her senses is almost too much. Already, she can feel her body betraying her, can feel flames licking low in her gut.

“You say that,” Cassian says, bending his face down until his breath fans across her lips. “But you forget that I can scent you too. Getting wet and slick thinking about me, Nes?”

With a growl, Nesta yanks her arms free of his grasp. “Fuck you.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to let you do.”

The words are enough to give Nesta pause, but it’s all the opening that Cassian needs. He presses right back into her space, his arm sliding around her back and grasping her waist this time. He pulls her flush against his body until she can feel every hard line of muscle hiding beneath his shirt, until she can feel the hard line growing between his thighs.

Clearly, his rut has well and truly taken hold.

He tips his head down and focuses his attention on her neck, breathing deeply and groaning. His fingers flex, fisting into the fabric of her blouse, and Nesta has to swallow hard as it pulls her closer still. His nose slides over the gland on her throat, and there’s no stopping the whine that tumbles free past her lips, the way her breath hitches in her throat.

No stopping the rush of slick she can feel.

It takes all of her willpower to push him away again, Cassian actually stumbling back this time. His eyes have darkened, a flame sizzling amongst the greens and golds, and that burning gaze is pinned fully on Nesta.

“Sit down,” Nesta demands, forcing the words around the breathlessness threatening to pull her under.

Surprisingly, Cassian obeys, walking backwards and collapsing back into his office chair. Only when she’s sure he doesn’t intend to move again does Nesta reach up under her skirt. She hooks her fingers under the waistband of her panties, slowly sliding them down her thighs, over her knees, and down her calves. She hears the distinct creak of wood as she steps out of them, and when she looks up, Cassian has a death grip on the arm rests of his chair.

She smirks as she walks her way around Cassian’s desk. She pushes the papers there aside, making room for her to jump up. She takes her time sliding back on the desk enough that she can spread her legs and plant her heels on the edge. Makes a big show of lifting up the hem of her skirt until her cunt is fully exposed, reveling in the soft growl that rumbles from Cassian’s chest.

“Mother save me,” Cassian groans, licking his lips. “Look at you.”

Nesta traces her hand down until she reaches between her thighs. She slides a finger through the slick that’s already gathered there, just that small, teasing touch leaving her gasping. She touches herself with more purpose on the next swipe, adding more pressure and continuing upwards until she can trace a circle over her clit. She moans softly, eyes fluttering closed and hips jumping against the pulse of pleasure.

“Gods, you're drenched already, sweetheart. So wet thinking about my cock and my knot, aren’t you?”

Nesta dares to bring her fingers lower again, dares to sink one into her cunt. She’s already produced so much slick, already so keyed up, that she meets almost no resistance. She pulls back and presses in two fingers next, whining high in the back of her throat. She moves her hand just how she knows she likes, pressing deep and curling her fingers, her hips rocking to meet every drive of them.

“Add a third finger. Get yourself nice and ready to take my knot.”

Nesta huffs at the command, but there’s no denying that inherent part of her that wants to be good for an alpha. The part of her that preens at an alpha’s attention. The part of her that claws with desperation for more, that demands to be claimed no matter how much Nesta has tried to suppress that instinct. It’s that part of her that has her squeezing in a third finger beside the other two, her entire body tensing at the stretch.

“Good girl.”

The praise has Nesta moaning again. She opens her eyes, finally looking at Cassian again, but it’s instantly a mistake. No longer are his eyes the bright hazel she’s come to know. Instead, they’re dark, the pupils blown out and swallowing his irises. His curls hang loose around his face, only adding to the shadows cutting across his jawline and the stubble lining the skin there, and with every heaving breath, his nostrils flare. She can see his throat bob with every swallow, see the muscles of his forearm flex where his sleeves have been pushed up to his elbow as his grip tightens against the arms of his chair.

He’s clearly holding himself back, and it’s unfair how attractive it is. How attractive he is. It’s almost instinctive, almost involuntary, the way her cunt clenches down around her fingers. The way another whimper is pulled straight from her chest at the sight of him.

“You take your fingers so well. Are you going to take my cock that well, too?”

Nesta huffs, even as she presses her fingers deeper desperately. “Who knew you were such a talker.”

“You like it.” Nesta wants to deny it but can’t, not with the way her body continues to respond to the deep timbre of his voice. “You like when I call you my good girl. Like being my good girl.”

Nesta tosses her head back again, but not before half heartedly rolling her eyes. She continues to drive and curl her fingers, continues to rock her hips against them, but it’s not enough. She tries to press her fingers even deeper, tries to spread them to achieve that stretch she craves, but she’s stuck right on that precipice, release glimmering in sight but still so out of reach.

“Please,” Nesta whispers, her hips jumping off the desk. “Please. I can’t– I need–”

With a growl, Cassian pushes to his feet. His fingers curl around Nesta’s wrist, tugging her fingers free and lifting her hand toward his mouth. Nesta’s breath hitches in her throat as he guides her slick coated fingers between his lips, as his tongue drags slowly over each digit, as his eyes flutter closed and a groan reverberates from deep in his chest.

“Please,” Nesta echoes again.

“Please what?” Cassian asks, even as he reaches for the belt of his pants, deft finger working to unfasten them. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“It’s not enough. I need your knot.”

It’s hard for Nesta to be annoyed at the return of that infuriating, cocksure smirk of his when she’s still so on edge and desperate. When she feels so empty. It’s hard to think of anything else when Cassian finally finishes unfastening his pants, shoving the fabric of them and his boxers down the thick muscles of his thighs. Hard to think of anything else when the hard line of his cock is finally free from its confines.

Her mouth practically goes dry at the sight of it.

She’s not sure what exactly she was expecting, but she certainly wasn’t expecting the wide girth of Cassian’s cock. She wasn’t expecting the veins that run along the sides of his cock before circling around the center. Wasn’t expecting the thick head already purpling and weeping with his own arousal. She can feel another rush of slick dripping between her thighs in anticipation.

Cassian’s hand curls around his cock, stroking it lazily, but he doesn’t move any closer, doesn’t give Nesta what she needs. What she knows they both need. Instead, that smirk of his only seems to grow with each teasing stroke of his hand. So Nesta spreads her thighs wider still, pressing her hips closer to the edge of the desk. An offering.

“Please, alpha.”

“Fuck.”

Gone is that smirk, his chest heaving with a hitched breath. He finally steps closer into the cradle of Nesta’s thighs, dragging the head of his cock through the mess of slick and arousal gathered there, dragging until he can tease at her clit. His free hand reaches for her jaw, the large span of it enough that his fingers curl down around her neck. He drags his thumb across her bottom lip, leaning in so that his warm breath fans across her cheeks.

His lips slotting over hers is Nesta’s only warning before he presses his hips forward, the tip of his cock sinking into her. Nesta gasps into the kiss, but Cassian merely uses the opportunity to press his tongue into her mouth, to bury his cock another inch. The way he fills her already is unfair.

She owns almost every best knotting toy on the market to help her get through her heats, and yet still, it’s nothing compared to this stretch, to the feel of those veins dragging along the walls of her cunt. Even with how much slick she’s already produced, even with the way she rode her own fingers, he still has to slowly rock his hips before he finally feeds her the rest of his cock until just his knot remains, already swelling at the base.

Cassian pulls back from the kiss, and Nesta is like a marionette with her strings cut, falling back down against the desk with a quiet whine. Cassian doesn’t seem to mind. His hands find her thighs, fingers digging into the flesh as he hoists her legs to hook around his hips.

“Look at how my good girl takes me,” Cassian praises, Nesta clenching down around his cock at the words. “Oh, fuck, Nes. That’s it. You were made to take your alpha’s cock, weren’t you?”

When she doesn’t respond, he pulls his hips back just to snap them back forward again, still teasing his knot. His hand trails further up her thigh, calluses sliding deliciously against her skin, until he can press his thumb down against her clit. Nesta cries out at the sensation, her hips bucking up, but Cassian’s hand on her lower stomach keeps her pinned in place.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes!” Nesta gasps out, her voice bleeding into a moan when Cassian rewards her by moving his thumb, tracing circles over her clit.

She’s already too keyed-up that when Cassian continues his ministrations against her clit, when he starts to rock his hips again, she doesn’t even have time to warn him. Her orgasm tears through her, and she clenches down hard around his cock, a moan of Cassian’s name falling from her lips as she tosses her head back.

“Fuck, that’s it. You’re so fucking gorgeous when you come all over my cock.”

Cassian continues to move his hips, working her through and stretching out her release until it starts to bleed into overstimulation. But he doesn’t stop. He plants both his hands on the desk, Nesta’s splayed legs now draped over his forearms, as he snaps his hips at a brutal pace. Nesta reaches a hand back over her head, gripping onto the edge of the desk just so she has something to hold onto, to keep herself from sliding back too much, a mess of high pitched whines and moans as Cassian continues to drive his hips into her.

Every forward thrust has Cassian’s knot catching, teasing, and Nesta’s thighs start to shake in anticipation, more slick adding to the mess already between her thighs. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she’s aware of the breathy pleas, the moans begging him, that continue to pour from her throat but she can’t find it within herself to care, not with the steady thrum of pleasure coursing through her body and drawn forward by the very man fucking into her hard.

A few more snaps of his hips, and Cassian drives home, burying his knot in her cunt. Nesta isn’t sure she’s ever felt more full in her life, letting out a choked gasp at the utter stretch of his knot pressing against her walls. She dares to clench down around it, and Cassian groans lowly, rocking his hips shallowly as his cock floods her with the warmth of his own release.

Nesta slumps back against the desk, Cassian finally setting her legs back down. She lets her eyes flutter closed, set on catching her breath while they wait for Cassian’s knot to go down, but then she feels his hands slide up over her hips, over her waist. Her eyes snap open again when those hands move across her chest, his fingers finding the buttons of her blouse.

“What are you doing?” Nesta asks, craning her neck enough that she can peer at Cassian’s hands in confusion.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to get my hands on these,” Cassian explains, tugging the fabric of her blouse apart.

He pulls down the cups of her bra, but Nesta barely has time to gasp at the cool air of the office on her breasts before his warm hands enclose around them. His hands are large enough that each palm cradles the whole swell of her breasts, and he uses that to his advantage as he kneads and squeezes.

“Can you come again just like this?” Cassian asks, sliding his thumbs across her nipples. “I bet you can.”

“Fuck,” Nesta whines, her body already responding, that heat already building again and pooling low in her gut.

“Come on, sweetheart. I want to feel you really milking my knot.”

It’s a bit awkward with the way they’re still joined, but Cassian is able to lean over her, his mouth closing over her breast. His tongue drags and swirls around her nipple, Nesta arching up toward his face with a loud moan. He keeps his movements slow and languid, his teeth grazing teasingly along her skin. With his knot still pressing securely against the walls of her cunt, all the sensations are almost too much.

“Cass… Cassian,” Nesta pants, burying a hand in his hair, her nails digging into his scalp and fingers tugging at the dark strands.

The response only has Cassian doubling his efforts. Every slide of his tongue, every groan that reverberates against her chest, every drag of his calluses as he kneads her other breast with his hand, it all sends Nesta careening higher and higher. Cassian dares to rock his hips again, to press his knot even deeper, and it’s like a dam breaking. She comes again with a shout, tears prickling at the corner of her eyes at the pleasure that ricochets through her veins.

Cassian releases her breast with a quiet pop. “Good girl. Squeezing my knot so well.”

Nesta whimpers at his words, at the way she can feel his cock twitch again where it’s pressed so deep, can feel more warmth from his seed filling her cunt. It has another aftershock rocking through her, and Nesta tosses her arm over her eyes, her head feeling dizzy with the high of it all. Her heart pounds in her chest, her body already feeling wrung out, but still that instinctual part of her mind, that omega piece of her always clawing for release, begs for more.

His knot finally subsiding, Cassian pulls his cock free, and it takes all of Nesta’s willpower to swallow down her whine at the loss. She feels so empty, that inner part of her all but raging at the lack of an alpha’s knot keeping her stuffed full.

“Fuck, we made quite a mess, didn’t we?”

Nesta does whine when Cassian’s thumbs spread her cunt wider, and she doesn’t have to look to know the truth of his words. She can feel the combination of arousal, of slick, of Cassian’s seed leaking out of her and making a mess of her thighs and his desk.

“We can’t have that, can we?”

A quiet thump echoes in the office around them, and Nesta pushes herself up into a seated position in alarm, only to find Cassian now on his knees before her. His hands grasp at her thighs, tugging her further across the desk until she’s half hanging off the edge. It’s the only warning she gets before Cassian buries his face between her thighs.

Nesta’s feet scramble desperately at his shoulders, her hand shooting out to clutch at the dark strands of Cassian’s hair, but whether it’s to keep herself balanced or to keep him exactly where he is, she isn’t sure. He devours her with a ferocity that Nesta can barely wrap her mind around. His tongue fucks into her and curls, gathering all that mess, all while his lips continue to move against her. He lets out a groan, and Nesta swears she feels the reverberation all the way down to her toes.

It’s obscene, the way he works his mouth and eats her out. The way he keeps his darkened gaze on her the whole time while he does it. Even from between her thighs, Nesta can see that smirk of his. He turns his attention to her clit, the hot, wet slide of his tongue swirling circles across the bud, and Nesta’s whole body bows forward with a choked off moan. She’s not sure if she wants to rock her hips or pull away. Not that it matters, anyway, Cassian keeping a firm grip on her thighs and holding her to his face.

Heat courses through Nesta’s entire body, and she already knows she’s not going to last much longer, not with the way Cassian continues to play her body. He licks a thick stripe over her cunt, and when he returns to her clit, he sucks it between his lips.

Nesta’s release hits her with enough force, so quickly, that it takes her by surprise. Her throat feels hoarse from all her shouts and moans, her cunt still clenching and fluttering through the aftershocks even after Cassian pulls away. It seems almost unfair, that he’s had her orgasming so many times when it’s meant to be his rut she’s helping him through.

She slides her hand out of his hair and to his shoulder, fisting her fingers in the fabric of his shirt. Surprisingly, Cassian follows her silent command, standing up when she tugs, and he allows her to push him back into his chair. Her legs are wobbly as she slips off the desk, but thankfully, it’s not far to clamber onto the chair and straddle his lap.

Nesta reaches down between them, curling her fingers around Cassian’s cock, already hard again. She strokes up slowly, feeling the hot weight of him in her hand, the way he twitches against her palm in response to her touch. She drags her thumb across the head of his cock, daring to press teasingly at the slit and reveling when Cassian’s hips jerk up against her.

“Ready for my knot again already, Nes?” Cassian still drawls despite his body’s reaction. “You’re absolutely desperate for it, aren’t you?”

“Shut up.”

Nesta crashes her mouth against his, determined to keep his mouth preoccupied, but she can’t deny the accusation, either. As amazing as his mouth had been, it was nothing compared to his cock, to his knot. It’s dangerous the way need has clawed up her chest, the way its twined around her ribs and dug a space there. It’s all she can focus on, the way his cock stroked against the walls of her cunt, the way his knot stretched her, the way his seed filled her.

There’s no suppressing the omega within her now, no denying her alpha.

She presses up higher onto her knees, guiding and holding Cassian’s cock steady as she sinks back down. There’s no keeping up the kiss. Nesta can do nothing but moan in relief against his lips at finally being full again. She clenches down, her toes curling at him pressing so deep.

Cassian lets out a groan of his own in reaction, his head dropping back against the chair. “Mother save me, nothing feels like your sweet cunt wrapped around me.”

Slowly, Nesta starts to circle and rock her hips, her clit dragging against Cassian’s pelvis with every movement in the most delicious way. But it’s not enough. It’s not what she needs. Planting her hands on Cassian’s shoulder for balance, she starts to move more earnestly, fucking herself on his cock.

“That’s my good girl.” Cassian’s hands settle at her hips, squeezing. “My sweet omega taking her alpha’s cock so well.”

Nesta keens at the praise, especially when Cassian plants his feet, snapping his hips up to meet her every movement with a hard, brutal thrust of his own. The pleasure is everything, fogging over her mind until all she can focus on is Cassian’s cock, on the feel of it slamming home over and over and over. On the sticky mess of slick and seed she’s made of both their thighs. On the wet slap of skin and her high pitched moans echoing off the walls of the office.

There’s a ringing in Nesta’s ears, and it drives Nesta to move her hips faster, to chase that sweet release until she realizes that it’s not in her head. It’s a phone. The phone on Cassian’s desk is ringing. She slows her movements, glancing over her shoulder toward the device, but a slap to her ass has her yelping in surprise.

“Ignore it,” Cassian chastises, his fingers squeezing and soothing away the ache of his slap. “Don’t stop now, Nes. Not when you’re riding my cock so perfectly.”

The ringing subsides, the call clearly having gone to voicemail, but then it just starts anew all over again. Cassian growls out a frustrated huff. His arm snaps around Nesta’s waist, holding her to his lap, keeping her on his cock, even as he reaches forward with his free hand to snatch up the offending device.

“Are you a fucking idiot?” Nesta doesn’t need to see the screen of the phone to recognize the cool, clipped tone of Night Inc.’s CEO. “We have cameras in every office. What in the fuck were you thinking?”

“Fuck off, Rhys,” Cassian snaps into the phone.

“Go the fuck home, dumbass.”

With that, the line clicks, the call clearly ended. Cassian shakes his head and tosses his phone back on his desk, returning his hand to Nesta’s thigh as though he can’t keep his hands off her, even for the short time it takes to speak on the phone. He nuzzles his face into the junction between her throat and shoulder, skating his nose across her pulse point, and Nesta can feel that tell-tale smirk of his pressing against her skin.

“Whoops. Looks like we got caught, sweetheart.”

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies @freakingata

#acotaromegaverse2024 #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #cassian acotar #acotar #acosf #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #my fic

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hyewka · 1 year ago

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STRICTLY PLATONIC [teaser] | choi beomgyu

SUMMARY. fucking your best friend was supposed to be a one time thing in the hopes of relinquishing feelings for your ex, but a one time turned into a weekly and cuddles after sex are way too intimate for your liking. but beomgyu insists that he’d never catch feelings for you, that he’s experienced in these types of arrangements. he still saw you as his best friend! it was totally only platonic for you too… right?

GENRE. smut, fluff, angst, college au, a hyewka fic with plot and structure.. sort of

TEASER WARNINGS. nothing explicit just some marking lol

AUTHOR NOTE. the dream fwb fic ive been wanting to write for ages so thank you to the ask i recently replied to as it was the main motivator for this 😭 this is going to be a long one so we're going the traditional route with a teaser, im opening a tag list so if you wish to be added send an ask or comment!

You’ve never seen Choi Beomgyu in a different light. That’s what you liked about him, that everything was so… constant. Your life could crash and burn but hey, Beomgyu was still Beomgyu— your friendship was a variable in your life that stayed undeniably the exact same.

You know, until you allowed him to fuck your brains out.

Even the sole fact that you have given the thought of Beomgyu being a ‘sex symbol’ has you quivering out of sheer horror— Beomgyu… has never been a sex symbol. Sure, he fucked around, and has a reputation and yeah sure, he was crazy hot when he isn’t showing signs of extreme sleep deprivation …but you’ve just never seen him in that light.

And to have let it simmer in your thoughts for longer than a second, makes you just a tinge hesitant in letting the silly goof pull you into the dancing crowd. You whine, “I’m tired Beomgyu! My heels are killing me.”

He either doesn’t hear over the blasting music or isn’t going to give it up because he pulls you in anyway, crashing your head right into his chest and you let out an instinctual ouch at the hard surface. Your eyes are wide looking up at him, sputtering out an unbelievable sentence. “Have you—have you been working out?”

His grin widens, holding up your arm to guide at feeling out his biceps. “Every now and then.” He doesn’t mind the minute it takes you to actually feel every muscle through his shirt, in fact he’s relishing in your sudden pique of interest in his body.

Whether he’s flexing them or not doesn’t show in his face—he looks completely relaxed and you finally admit—Beomgyu is getting toned.

“Why? You hate working out.” You could barely muffle those words with the way he had you engulfed in his arms, leaning his head in your neck, swaying side to side as if the song blasting was off of Taylor Swift’s Lover and not a Lil Wayne remix.

And he hasn’t even gotten a drop of alcohol yet.

But it’s true, Beomgyu hated the gym. Like, even more than you did. Which is a testament in and of itself.

He pulls away from the crook of your neck, a pout on his lips. “Didn’t you say your type was muscular men? At Halloween weekend?”

Halloween weekend was a year ago, the first frat party you managed to get into with the help of Beomgyu’s friend, Jake. You barely remember anything from it. Other than the occasional retells of the nights by Yunjin’s words, which are always a different version of the same story... so a not very credible source. “I mean, I guess they are. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know, just saying. Jaehyun was suuper muscly.” Okay, the random mention of your ex…maybe he had some drop of alcohol.

“Are you drunk?”

“You took too long to come back, lost at beer pong.”

“How many shots?” you interrogate.

“Two.” At your suspecting glare, he continues on, “Four…five…like, at most seven.”

Your eyes bulge out, huffing out a scoff. You guys always got wasted together! Noticing the furrow of your brows he holds you tighter whining, “I know I know, sorry, I tried telling Heeseung but he’s a savage cruel man, I was practically force fed that cup.”

You don’t doubt that he attempted to persuade Heeseung but you do doubt the force feeding, it only takes a couple nudges before getting Beomgyu to drink. “I’m just slightly tipsy, not drunk yet anyway. I pledged to never ever get trashed without you. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

You slap away the hand he puts up over his chest, incredulously, losing your control over the fits of giggles when he takes your flying hand in his, taking advantage by intertwining your fingers together. “What are you doing?” your cheeks probably hurt from all the smiling, you don’t know, you think your nerves are numb.

“Can’t a guy hold his twin flame, platonic best friend’s hand?”

Skinship was not an unfamiliar with Beomgyu—he was always a naturally clingy guy. You figured when the first ever official lunch hangout you’ve had with the boy and a few of your other friends, had included a lot of random footsie.

You didn’t even know him that well in high school. Who plays footsie with an acquaintance? Choi Beomgyu, that’s who. Yet even after some reluctance that day, you end up letting him have his childish, sort of endearing fun.

Though this was all but childish, the innocently mischievous twinkle of a scrawny teenage boy had been long gone, instead replaced by the most attractive man’s hungry, lust filled gaze. “Who told you to look so sexy today?”

The theme was Angel & Devil—to match with Beomgyu, you insisted on giving him the angel outfit, and you the costume of a devil. Matching was always the fun part of these parties. “Only today?” you drawl, making an exaggerated sultry trail with your finger on his chest.

“God, shut up, you know you’re always hot,” You don’t expect the seriousness of his tone, especially when you were just teasing, but he snakes his hand around your waist, pushing you further into his body, your tits suffocatingly pressed against his chest.

You do not expect the slight squeeze to your ass, your eyes shooting particularly wide, blood rushing up to trickle your cheeks. “But I like it when you’re a little devil, makes you so sexy and alluring.”

His face buried into your neck again, this time not missing the chance of taking a deep inhale. Beomgyu could stay like this forever, filling his lungs with you, and only you. “Still can’t believe I had my hands off you for so long little devil.” Your eyes flutter shut, taking quick breaths as he moves his soft lips to your neck, wet kisses with a slip of teeth nibbling just slightly to tease, planning on coloring you with all the pretty purple hues.

And you’re sure he was well on his way until you sober up at the abrupt change in the DJ’s track.

“Beomgyu, not—not now, we’re in public.” And surrounded by tons of people that you’re either friends with or know. That broke one of the most important pillars of your agreement—to keep the fuck buddies ‘thing’ a secret.

You don’t expect the speed of his instant pull away when processing your words, blinking his pretty lashes and the tipsiness away—his doe eyes are too much of a weakness, the little furrow of his brows something you desperately want to kiss and smoothen out. “Oh. Oh yeah. Sorry.” he scratches the back of his neck, genuinely apologetic.

And eats away at you. You know Beomgyu well—he hates keeping things secret, he’s the type of person to flaunt relationships all over his feed in that lovesick puppy way that most women could only dream of having—but you weren’t dating. And that was the boundary set.

You didn’t ask him to pull away completely though, but here you were, awkwardly as distanced as you could be in the middle of a rager with sweaty college students rubbing their bodies against each other. As gross as that was, you zero’d in on something less of a given: the fact that you’ve never felt this way with Beomgyu. Ever. It was like you were starring in the most awkward coming of age indie movie, y’know, without the crazy scenery and cinematography.

And more often than not, you find that these occurance of realisations, become more and more frequent. You feel things you’ve never felt a certain way with Beomgyu. Which only brought you to realize something else; Beomgyu was now a changing variable in your life and you’re not entirely sure how to handle that.

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