#i think they are aware of EVERYTHING said

[gf2bellamy]

enough — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: you don't think you're enough for spencer content warnings: mention of working on a case, feelings of insecurity / not feeling good enough, spencer and reader argue , alot of angst ( pretty much all of it) a/n: currently sick in bed :( hope you guys like this <3

part 2

You knew Spencer Reid had feelings for you. It wasn’t exactly a well-kept secret. In fact, everyone on the team seemed to know—how could they not?

The way his gaze lingered on you just a fraction longer than anyone else, the way his words stumbled over themselves when you caught him off guard, the subtle softness in his voice when he said your name.

Spencer was careful, meticulous in everything he did, but when it came to you, his emotions were a little too obvious. 

There were the small, thoughtful gestures—the extra cup of coffee waiting on your desk when you’d been up late on a case, or the way he always seemed to know exactly when you needed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

Then there were the bigger things, like how he always volunteered to partner with you in the field, or how he fiercely defended your theories in meetings, even when they weren't perfect. 

But maybe the most telling sign of all was the way Spencer looked at you.

Like you were the only thing in the room worth noticing.

It was like he was memorizing every detail of your face, committing you to the library of his mind. And every time he looked at you like that, a warmth bloomed in your chest—a warmth you weren’t quite ready to name, but one that you felt more often than you cared to admit. 

Penelope had asked you multiple times about the situation, her curiosity impossible to suppress. “So, when are you and Boy Genius making it official?” she’d tease, wiggling her eyebrows and leaning across your desk.

Each time, you laughed it off or deflected with a joke. “What are you talking about, Pen? Spencer and I are just friends,” you’d insist, even though the words felt more and more like a lie with every passing day. 

Pretending to be oblivious to Spencer’s feelings had once been easy. A flick of the wrist, a casual smile—it had been enough to convince everyone, including yourself, that you were completely unaware. But lately, it was getting harder.

Much harder. 

Because now, every time you caught him staring at you, every time his fingers brushed yours while passing a file, every time he leaned in just a little too close when he explained something in that excited, rambling way of his, you felt it. That same warmth in your chest, that same ache you’d been trying so hard to ignore. 

The truth was, you weren’t just aware of Spencer’s feelings for you.

You also felt the same way. 

Your fingers tapped absently against your desk, a sound that seemed to echo in the quiet bullpen. Your eyes were unfocused, fixed on nothing in particular, as your thoughts wandered far from the case files scattered in front of you. 

Across from your desk, Spencer was watching you. He tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing in concern as he debated whether or not to say something. 

“Are you okay?” His soft voice cut through the quiet, pulling you back to the present. 

“Huh?” You jumped slightly, your hand pausing mid-tap as your head whipped around to face him. Your wide eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” you added quickly, your words rushing out. 

Spencer didn’t look convinced. He leaned forward just a little, resting his elbows on the edge of his desk as his gaze searched yours. “You seemed... distracted,” he said carefully. 

You laughed nervously, waving a hand as if to brush off his concern. “Just zoning out. It’s been a long day.” 

Spencer didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stared at you for a while, his hazel eyes soft but searching, like he could see through the thin veil of your words.

The weight of his gaze made your pulse quicken, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. 

“I’ll be right back,” you blurted suddenly, pushing your chair back. Without waiting for a response, you rushed out of the bullpen, your footsteps echoing down the hallway until you reached the bathroom. 

Inside, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding and stepped into the nearest stall, closing the door behind you. Sitting down on the closed toilet lid, you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees and your head in your hands. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d run away like this. You weren’t proud of it, but sometimes it felt easier to escape than to face the thoughts that clawed their way to the surface when Spencer was near. 

People might call you stupid.

Stupid for ignoring the feelings of someone so gentle and sweet.

Stupid for pretending not to notice how much he cared for you, how much he had done for you.

Stupid for not taking the first step when it was obvious to everyone, including you, that Spencer Reid had feelings for you. 

But it wasn’t just Spencer’s feelings, was it? No, the truth was much harder to ignore now: you had feelings for him, too.

And yet, here you were, hiding in a bathroom stall, running away from everything. 

The reason felt silly—childish, even—but it was there, and it was real.

You were scared.

Scared that if you took that step, if you let yourself fall into the warmth of what Spencer was offering, you’d ruin him.

Spencer, who was so sweet and intelligent, so thoughtful and patient. He was everything good in this world, and you couldn’t help but feel like you’d taint him with your flaws, your insecurities. 

You didn’t think you were enough for him. 

The thought sat heavy in your chest, and no matter how much you tried to push it down, it always came back.

Spencer deserved someone extraordinary, someone brilliant and perfect—someone who wasn’t you. 

Before you could stop it, a tear slipped down your cheek. 

You were so lost in your thoughts that you almost didn’t hear the bathroom door creak open. 

A familiar, soft voice called out your name.

You quickly straightened up, dabbing at your cheeks with trembling fingers, but it was no use. The tears had already left their mark. 

You opened the stall door cautiously, revealing Penelope standing there in all her vibrant glory. Her floral skirt swirled around her knees, and her cardigan was adorned with her signature pins and patches.

Her warm, concerned eyes locked onto yours the moment the door swung open. 

��There you are,” she said gently, a small smile playing on her lips as she tilted her head. “Spence sent me to check on you. He’s worried.” 

Of course he did. The thought made your chest tighten. 

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, waving a hand as if to dismiss the obvious evidence of tears. But Penelope wasn’t one to be fooled, especially not by you. 

She raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Sweetheart, you’re standing in a bathroom stall looking like you just had a tearful heart-to-heart with yourself, so forgive me if I don’t take ‘I’m fine’ at face value.” 

You tried to laugh, but it came out shaky and weak. “It’s just... been a long day.” 

Penelope crossed her arms, giving you that patient, knowing look that only she could manage. “I know there’s more to it than that. Spence wasn’t just worried about you zoning out—he was worried about you. And judging by those red eyes, I’m guessing he’s not wrong for being worried.” 

You sighed, leaning against the stall door for support. “It’s nothing, Pen. Really.” 

Penelope softened, she placed a comforting hand on your arm. “If it’s nothing, why were you crying?” 

For a moment, you considered brushing her off again, but something about her warmth, her openness, made you pause.

Maybe it was because she was Penelope, the team’s heart and soul, or maybe it was because a part of you was tired of holding it all in. 

“It’s... about Spencer,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Penelope’s eyes lit up in understanding, and a soft smile crept across her face. “Oh, honey. Tell me everything.” 

You let out a shaky breath, walking over to the sink and staring at your reflection. The person looking back at you seemed fragile, her emotions etched plainly on her face.

Penelope followed, standing beside you, her vibrant presence grounding you as she waited patiently for you to speak. 

“I have feelings for Spencer,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the bathroom’s fluorescent lights. 

Penelope didn’t gasp or exclaim. She simply tilted her head and nodded, her soft smile growing into something more knowing, like she’d been waiting for you to admit it. 

“I figured as much,” she said gently, her tone free of judgment. “But what’s got you hiding out in here instead of doing something about it?” 

You met her eyes in the mirror, hesitating for a moment before answering. “Because I’m scared, Penelope.” Your fingers gripped the edge of the sink tightly. “I mean, he’s Spencer. He’s brilliant and kind. He deserves someone amazing, someone who can keep up with him. I just—I don’t think I’m enough for him.” 

Penelope frowned, her brows knitting together as she turned to face you fully. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up. First of all, I am going to stop you right there, missy. You are more than enough for anyone, especially Spencer Reid. Don’t even try to argue with me on that.” 

You opened your mouth to protest, but she held up a finger to silence you. 

“Second,” she continued, her voice firm but still warm, “have you met Spencer? That man practically worships the ground you walk on. Do you know how rare that is? To have someone like Spencer look at you the way he does? Trust me, sweetie, he doesn’t see anyone else but you.” 

You blinked, Penelope’s words hitting you harder than you expected. “But what if I mess it up? What if I ruin everything?” 

“Sweetheart,” Penelope said, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “life is messy. Love is messy. But if you keep letting that fear hold you back, you’re going to miss out on something incredible. Spencer wants you. Not someone perfect, not someone else. You.” 

Her words hung in the air, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. For a moment, all you could do was stare at her, overwhelmed by her kindness and sincerity. 

“Thank you, Penelope,” you whispered, your voice soft and earnest. 

She gave you a bright, reassuring smile, squeezing your arm gently. “Don’t stay here too long, okay? Boy Genius is worried about you, and you know how he gets when he’s worried.” 

You managed a small smile, nodding as she opened the bathroom door. “I’ll be out soon.” 

“Good,” she said with a wink, stepping out into the hallway. The door swung shut behind her, leaving you alone once again. 

You turned back to the mirror, your reflection staring back at you with the same doubts you’d walked in with. Penelope’s words were honest, comforting, and so full of truth that they made your chest ache. And yet... the doubts didn’t leave. 

They stayed. 

What if Penelope was wrong? What if you tried, and it all came crashing down, leaving your friendship in ruins? 

You pressed your lips together, inhaling a shaky breath. There was a part of you—a small, fragile part—that wanted to believe Penelope.

But the larger, louder part of you couldn’t let go of the fear. 

“Get it together,” you muttered to yourself, gripping the sink tightly. 

You couldn’t stay in this bathroom forever, hiding from the man waiting for you outside.

The man who cared enough to send someone after you when you disappeared.

The man who had always been there, quietly offering you the kind of unconditional support you never thought you deserved. 

And yet, your feet felt like they were cemented to the floor. 

The days that followed felt heavier, even after Penelope’s heartfelt pep talk. Her words lingered in your mind like an echo, but they weren’t enough to silence the whirlwind of emotions.

Everything seemed harder now that you’d acknowledged your feelings—now that you couldn’t hide from the truth. 

Sometimes, it felt like your heart was about to burst with how much love you held for Spencer.

You’d catch yourself staring at him across the bullpen, watching the way his lips moved as he explained something in that fast, excitable way of his, or the way his fingers traced invisible patterns on the edge of a file when he was deep in thought. 

And then there were the moments when you were near him—too near. Your hands would tremble when they brushed his by accident, or your breath would hitch when his cologne lingered in the air between you.

But you didn’t do anything about it. 

You convinced yourself it was for the best, that keeping things the way they were was safer. You couldn’t risk crossing that line and ruining the friendship you’d come to treasure so much. 

Still, there were cracks in your resolve. 

You weren’t sure how long you could keep this up—pretending you didn’t feel what you felt, pretending you didn’t want to close the gap between you and let yourself fall. 

One day, the tension came to a head while you and Spencer were working on the geographic profile to catch an unsub. The bullpen was unusually quiet, the rest of the team out gathering leads.

It was just the two of you, standing side by side in front of the board, the scent of coffee and marker ink filling the air. 

You reached for the same photo pinned to the board—a shot of a potential target area—and your fingers brushed his.

It was barely a touch, but it sent a jolt up your arm, and you immediately pulled back as if burned. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled quickly, your voice barely above a whisper. You avoided his gaze, letting him take the picture as you stepped back. Not just one step—several, putting unnecessary distance between the two of you. 

Spencer hesitated, holding the picture in his hand as his eyes flicked to you. His brows furrowed slightly, concern shadowing his expression as he noticed how much space you’d suddenly created between you. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft and careful, like he was afraid of startling you. 

Your throat tightened. “I’m fine,” you said, the words automatic and unconvincing. 

Spencer wasn’t buying it. He tilted his head, his gaze searching yours in that way that always made you feel like he could see right through you.

“You’ve been... distant,” he said, his tone gentle. “Not just today, but for a while now.” 

You froze, your heartbeat quickening. “I don’t know what you mean,” you said, even though the words felt hollow in your mouth. 

He stepped closer, closing some of the space you’d put between you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty. “If I did, I—I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be around me.” 

Your chest tightened painfully at the vulnerability in his voice. The idea that he thought he had done something wrong, that he might blame himself for the distance you’d created, made your stomach twist with guilt. 

“No, Spencer,” you said quickly, shaking your head. "It's just work has been getting to me.”

You turned away quickly, pretending to focus on the map pinned to the board. Your heart hammered in your chest as you felt Spencer’s eyes linger on you for a moment longer before he finally turned back to his own work. 

He let it go—for now. 

Later that evening, you were back in your hotel room, sprawled on the bed with the TV remote in hand. The case was successfully closed, the unsub in custody, but the team had decided to stay one more night before flying home.

You flipped aimlessly through the channels, barely registering the images flashing on the screen. Nothing held your attention for more than a few seconds, and the quiet hum of the TV did little to drown out your thoughts. 

With a loud yawn, you tossed the remote aside, letting it land on the bed. You leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling.  

Then came a knock at your door. 

Slowly, you got up, smoothing down your clothes as you walked to the door. 

When you opened it, your breath caught. 

Spencer stood there, hands in his pockets, his expression a mix of nervousness and determination. He was still in his dress shirt and slacks, his tie loosened just enough to suggest he’d been pacing or thinking too much, as he often did.

His hazel eyes met yours, and you saw a flicker of hesitation before he finally spoke. 

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice gentle but steady. 

“Spencer?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “What are you doing here?” 

“I—I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice laced with hesitation. He shifted his weight nervously, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. “Can I come in?” 

You stared at him, your heart racing as you tried to decipher the look in his eyes. Finally, you nodded, stepping aside to let him in.

As the door clicked shut behind him, you took a couple of deep breaths, trying to prepare yourself for whatever he wanted to talk about.

Turning back around, you walked a few steps toward him, stopping just a short distance away. You were close enough to notice the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the tension in his posture as he stood there, clearly working through whatever thoughts were racing in his mind. 

You found yourself fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, your fingers twisting and untwisting the fabric as you waited for him to speak.

Finally, Spencer cleared his throat, his eyes meeting yours. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this,” he began, his voice soft but steady. “And I know I’ve been overthinking it, probably more than I should. But I—I couldn’t keep waiting.” 

Your fingers stilled, your breath catching as his words hung in the air. 

“I’ve noticed you pulling away,” he continued, his brows furrowing slightly. “And I’ve been trying to tell myself that maybe I was imagining it, but... I don’t think I am.” He paused, his gaze searching yours. “Are you sure I didn't do something wrong? Because if I did, I’ll fix it—I want to fix it.” 

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, guilt and affection warring within you. “No, Spencer,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He looked relieved for a moment, but the tension didn’t fully leave his face. “Then what is it? Because I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.” 

His honesty was disarming, his vulnerability leaving you with nowhere to hide. You opened your mouth, then closed it again, the words caught in your throat. 

“It’s... complicated,” you finally managed, your voice barely audible. 

Silence stretched out between you, thick and heavy. Spencer stood still, watching you intently, as if trying to piece together a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. His gaze flicked to your hands, noticing how they still fidgeted nervously with your clothes. 

And then he spoke. 

“I’m in love with you,” he said, the words falling from his lips so suddenly and so earnestly that they cut through the air like a blade. 

Your hands stilled immediately, your breath hitching as you raised your head to meet his eyes. The room seemed to shrink around you, everything else fading into the background as his words echoed in your ears. 

You hadn’t expected him to say it. Not like that. Not so bluntly, with no preamble or hesitation. And now, faced with the weight of his confession, you found yourself frozen, unsure of what to do or say. 

Spencer’s eyes darted nervously, meeting yours and then flicking away before returning.

He was waiting—for your answer, your reaction, anything. 

But you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, your mind racing too fast to form a coherent response. 

The silence stretched on, and you saw something shift in his expression. Disappointment. 

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice tight, the hurt evident as he took a small step back. “I shouldn’t have—” 

“Stop,” you said, shaking your head, cutting him off mid-sentence. 

Spencer froze, his eyes wide and uncertain as he looked at you. 

“Don’t apologize,” you said softly, your voice trembling but resolute. You took a shaky breath.

You weren’t sure what to say to him, honestly. It was like your heart was trying to escape from your chest, but the words just wouldn’t come out. 

You looked at Spencer, his hair falling into his face just the way it always did when he was anxious or lost in thought. You had this overwhelming urge to reach out, to gently push his hair back behind his ear, but you didn’t.

Instead, you just stood there, staring at him, feeling more unsure than ever. 

"Spence, look, I—" you started, your voice faltering as you tried to gather your thoughts. 

His eyes were fixed on yours, waiting. He was so patient, so willing, and it made your chest tighten even more. You tried again, your words tumbling out as you fought to explain. 

“I didn’t want to mess things up with you. I’ve been scared that if I told you how I feel, it would ruin everything. Because... you deserve someone better than me, Spencer. You deserve someone who can give you the world, who can keep up with you... not someone like me.”

You caught yourself, blinking rapidly as the words tumbled out of you, not sure if you were even making sense anymore.

But it was like you couldn’t stop.

“I’ll ruin you, Spencer. I’ll drag you into my mess, and you’ll wake up one day and realize you could’ve had someone better. Someone who doesn’t second-guess every little thing or put up walls because they’re too scared to let anyone in.”

“That’s not how I see you,” Spencer said, his voice soft as he took a step closer to you. “You’re not a mess. You’re not some burden I’d have to carry. You’re—”

“Stop,” you cut him off, shaking your head as tears pricked at your eyes. “You don’t get it. You think I’m this... this version of me that you’ve built up in your head, but I’m not that person. I’m not perfect. I’m not enough.”

“Stop saying that!” His voice rose slightly, the frustration finally breaking through. You looked at him, startled, as he ran a hand through his hair. “You keep telling me what I should feel, what I deserve, like you get to decide that for me. But you don’t. I know what I want, and it’s you.”

“Spencer—”

“No, let me finish,” he said, stepping closer. “I don’t care about perfect, okay? I don’t care about whatever doubts you have about yourself, because none of that changes the fact that I love you. I love you for you, not some idealized version. And if you think for one second that I’m going to stand here and let you push me away because of some fear that you’re not ‘enough,’ then you don’t know me as well as I thought.”

His words hit you like a wave, but instead of feeling comforted, you felt overwhelmed. The emotions swirling between you both—the love, the fear, the frustration—felt like too much all at once.

“You’re not listening to me,” you said, your voice rising. “You think this is just me being insecure, but it’s not. This is me being realistic. You deserve someone who doesn’t bring you down, someone who doesn’t doubt themselves every time they look in the mirror.”

Spencer’s jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You’re the one bringing yourself down, not me. You’re the one who thinks you’re not good enough, but that’s not the truth. It’s your fear talking, not reality.”

“And maybe my fear is right,” you shot back, your voice cracking. “Maybe it’s telling me what I already know—that you’re too good for me, and I can’t be what you need.”

He stared at you, his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling as he took a deep breath. “You think you’re protecting me by pushing me away, but you’re not. You’re just hurting both of us,” he said, his voice quiet but sharp. “You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like this—like I’m not alone. Like I’m more than just... me. And I’m not going to let you stand there and tell me you’re not enough.”

The room felt suffocating, the tension between you crackling like a live wire.

But still, the doubt clung to you, thick and unrelenting. “Spencer, I just... I can’t,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

His shoulders slumped slightly, the frustration in his eyes giving way to something softer—something sad. “I don’t know how to convince you,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with defeat. “But I can’t force you to believe me.”

For a moment, he just stood there, silent and still, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“I don’t know what else to say,” he finally murmured, his voice low and filled with a quiet hurt that made your chest ache.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. You felt paralyzed, the fear and doubt swirling inside you.

Spencer looked back up at you, his hazel eyes searching yours one last time, as if hoping to find something—anything—that might give him a reason to stay.

When he didn’t, a faint, bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Goodnight,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

And then he turned, walking toward the door with a heaviness in his steps that you’d never seen before.

Your heart twisted as you watched him reach for the handle, every fiber of your being screaming at you to stop him, to say something, to fix this.

But the words refused to come.

Spencer paused for a fraction of a second as he opened the door, his back to you. It felt like time stood still. Then he stepped out, quietly closing the door behind him.

The sound of the latch clicking into place was deafening.

You stood there for what felt like an eternity, staring at the closed door, your chest tight and your head spinning. The room felt unbearably empty without him.

And yet, you didn’t move. You couldn’t.

Instead, you sank onto the edge of the bed, burying your face in your hands as the tears you’d been holding back finally broke free.

You didn’t know what hurt more—the fear that you’d pushed him away for good or the possibility that you’d been wrong about everything.

[icedbeverageenjoyer]

Dominator Mr. Puzzles!

I love the idea of each Puzzles having their own poster so much grrr!!

@alelathedragon

Story

While the name is kinda cringe, in this AU Puzzles is a much larger and more threatening villain. A big tech CEO who conqueres universes to make their inhabitants his loyal audience members. He comes from a dimension of shadow people, which he took over and brainwashed. Now they are his permanent audience, giving him approval in the form of 'stars'. ↓↓↓

Design

Puzzles' real body is severely damaged from all the body modifications he gave himself, so he built an undisclosed number of clones- vessels from which he can control every part of his empire.

His body stays in a special pocket dimension to keep himself safe, since he can barely move and needs around the clock care. If someone were to walk into his office, they'd think he was a long-dead corpse staring blankly at the monitors. But rest assured, he is very aware.

Fun facts

• Everything he touches turns grayscale. Probably has something to do with his home dimension.

• Many of his brand's home appliances managed to sneak into the showgrounds, but he failed to design these products with spyware. Damnit.

• He is very sensitive to temperature changes and keeps his dimension just above freezing.

• He can change his voice in pitch, timbre and everything else, so he can make very convincing impressions. Even his usual voice isn't his real one.

• The clones are like appendages to him. That being said, there are certain conditions under which a clone can go rouge and 'gain sentience', but they're usually very unstable and 'die' in a matter of hours.

• The Puzzles in the psych ward is a special case.

[dolcejwnie]

YOUNG LUST, X ᥫ᭡. N.RIKI

SYNOPSIS : you get in your ex's car. inspired by diet pepsi of addison rae.

GENRE: ex! niki x ex! reader au, smut, songfic, 1.9k words

WARNINGS: smut! oral (f!rec), dirty talking, car sex, we all know what the song is about, minors dni!

remember to reblog and like for more content!

the night was electric, the hum of the city lights filling the air, casting shadows on the streets. nishimura riki’s car purred beneath you as you both drove down a quiet road, the rhythm of the tires a comforting beat against your thoughts. you were in the backseat, heart racing, feeling a wave of anticipation wash over you. his hands gripped the steering wheel with confidence, exuding an effortless allure that made your heart race. he was someone you knew — charming, confident, and always just out of reach. you had never pictured yourself in this moment with him, and yet here you were, the thrill of the night whispering secrets into your ears.

the faint glow of a streetlamp reflected off his cross-gold chain, a flash of gold that shimmered like a beacon, catching your eye with every subtle turn of his head. he glanced at you for a moment, that mischievous smirk on his lips as he caught your gaze. his words were sweet, but there was an edge to them ��� a teasing promise that made your heart race.

even after everything, he still had that effect on you. “you look good tonight,” he said, the words rolling off his tongue with genuine warmth, but there was an unmistakable edge — a teasing promise that made your heart thump loudly, reminding you of the chemistry that had once brought you together.

you shifted slightly, the rip in your jeans drawing his attention, the fabric hugging at your legs just right. it felt as if he could sense the effect he had on you, how his words tugged at old feelings, reigniting forgotten embers; the way his words wrapped around your spirit and made your cheeks blossom with warmth — a cherry in the radiant spring sun, fresh, ripe, and bursting with life. memories of your time together flared, but this was different: you were not just his ex, you were in the backseat of his car, separated by miles and circumstances, yet inexplicably drawn back together in this reckless moment.

you could have taken a different ride home from the party; you could have avoided this moment, but still, you chose this — the two of you stealing a moment in the dark.

he reached over, fingers brushing against your skin, sending a shiver racing down your spine. the air felt thick with unfulfilled desires and unspoken words, as if the weight of everything left unsaid spiraled around you. the night felt charged with possibilities, and you could feel the tension crackling between you like electricity. you had made other choices tonight, but somehow found yourself here again, with the man who once pulled at your heartstrings.

suddenly, he slowed the car, the engine humming softly as he pulled over to the side of the road, the headlights illuminating the dark stretch of deserted street ahead. your breath quickened as he shifted, turning slightly to face you, his gaze dark and intense. it was a moment suspended in time where everything else faded away, leaving just the two of you simmering with tension.

“i can’t help but think about how you look tonight,” he murmured, leaning closer, his voice sultry and low, drowning out any thoughts of what was right or wrong. “you leave your mark everywhere, don’t you?”

with a swift movement, he maneuvered himself to straddle in the back seat, effectively pinning you beneath him. the exhilaration of the moment mixed with a sense of danger as he pushed his body against yours, making you acutely aware of every inch of him. the freedom of the night surged within you, drowning out the doubts that had lingered at the back of your mind.

his fingers slid beneath the hem of your jeans, fingertips trailing softly along your thigh, igniting a fire that surged through your body, each touch sending waves of heat spiraling through you. the car transformed into a sanctuary, a world away from the rest of existence, as your breath quickened with every caress. you leaned into him, craving more of his warmth, the weight of desire pressing against your consciousness.

“you drive me crazy,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with a hunger that mirrored your own. he didn’t give you a chance to respond, leaning in for another kiss that stole your breath. soft at first, but quickly escalating into a heated exploration, his lips moved against yours with a fervor that made your heart race.

as his hands found the buttons of your jeans, he paused, teasingly looking into your eyes, searching for your permission. you nodded slightly, a surge of excitement coursing through you, and with that, he continued, unfastening them with deliberate slowness that sent your pulse racing. he grinned, that wicked smile spilling over his features as he slid your jeans down your legs. there was an intoxicating thrill in the vulnerability, the intimacy of the moment.

“just like that,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath as anticipation coiled tightly within you. riki's gaze darkened, filled with something primal, almost possessive. he leaned down, his lips trailing down your neck, warm kisses burning sweet paths along your skin as he pressed close, dragging his body against yours. you arched into him, lost in the sensations that spiraled with each touch.

with a swift motion, he settled between your legs, spreading them wider as he made himself comfortable, drinking in the sight of you. you gasped as his hands found the soft skin of your thighs, his touch igniting every nerve ending until you felt like you were on fire. the world outside faded completely, leaving only the throbbing pulse of your desire, echoing in tune with your racing heart.

“you’re exquisite,” he murmured against your skin, the words vibrating through you as he kissed lower, the warm exhale of his breath causing your skin to erupt in goosebumps. when his tongue flicked out, tasting the tender skin of your inner thigh, you moaned softly, your body arching instinctively toward him, urging him to continue. every flick, every teasing caress made your senses come alive, pulling you deeper into a blissful haze.

then, as if sensing the crescendo building inside you, he placed a kiss just above the waistband of your panties, his fingers teasingly brushing against the fabric before shifting them aside. a gasp tore from your lips as he slowly drew your pleasure closer, his mouth enveloping you in warmth, his tongue swirling with tormented delight. the world outside disappeared, leaving you utterly absorbed in the sensations he ignited, each flick of his tongue sending shudders of ecstasy radiating through you.

“riki,” you breathed, the syllables escaping your lips like a prayer, your hands tangling in his hair, urging him to delve deeper. he complied, his touch eager and insistent, exploring your depths as you surrendered to the pleasure that built like a storm within you. each movement of his mouth was calculated and delicious, pulling you closer to the precipice as your body ached for release.

as the waves of pleasure rose higher, you felt the tension coil, building tightly until it threatened to consume you whole. you could feel your heart racing, breath quickening in time with the rhythm he carved into your body, each kiss igniting a fresh wave of delight. just as you were teetering on the edge, he slid a finger inside you, curling it in a way that perfectly found the spot that sent you spiraling. “oh, god,” you gasped, the sensation sending you over the brink, and you clutched at him harder, as if anchoring yourself to reality.

“that’s it, just let go,” he urged, his voice thick with raw need, and at that moment, you couldn’t hold back anymore. you surrendered completely, your body writhing beneath his expert touch as you felt yourself cresting a wave of ecstasy that washed over you like a tidal surge, pulling you under and leaving nothing but blissful chaos in its wake.

when you came down, breathless and exhilarated, you pulled him up for another fierce kiss, tasting yourself on his lips, and the passion surged back to life. he quickly shed his remaining clothes, the urgency palpable in the air as he positioned himself at your entrance, his gaze locking onto yours in a moment that felt both intimate and electric.

“you want this, don’t you?” he murmured against your lips, his breath warm and inviting, hot with relentless desire. you nodded, words escaping you as the urgency overwhelmed your senses. his mouth found its way down your neck, trailing kisses that felt rough and demanding, igniting a heat low in your belly.

“tell me you want it,” he commanded, his fingers digging into your skin, holding you tight against the seat. each kiss, each bite of his lips made you squirm, raw and desperate, a fiery need blooming within you.

“please, riki,” you gasped, the urgency of your voice shattering any restraint. “i want you.” His sound of satisfaction rang out low in his throat, and with a sudden fierce thrust of his hips, he took you, filling you completely,stretching you in a way that sent another rush of delight coursing through you. the sensation was overwhelming, pulling a moan from deep within you as he began to move, each thrust merging with the rhythm of your heart.

it felt as if time itself had stopped, the world outside falling away as you lost yourselves in the dance of passion—the sound of skin against skin, the cadence of your breaths blending into a harmonious chorus of pleasure. 

“god, you feel so good, i missed you so much,” he growled, momentum building as he set a forceful, relentless pace. each thrust intensified the fever pitch of your desire; it felt raw, primal — the rhythm of your bodies colliding in a heady mix of passion and abandon, drowning any thoughts of restraint. the car rocked slightly with the force, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the confined space, mingled with hurried breaths and desperate moans that echoed against the windows.

you lost yourself in the moment, every thrust driving you closer to the edge, the world outside a distant memory. his fingers gripped your hips, pulling you closer with brute force, demanding more, and you gave it willingly, matching his rhythm with your own. you could feel the heat pooling deeper, hungry for release, your body responding uncontrollably to him as he chased his own pleasure.

“you’re mine,” he growled before stealing another kiss, his voice a mixture of possession and lust. “only mine.” each word only fueled the fire within you, pushing you closer to that sweet peak of desire. with every thrust, you could feel yourself unraveling, pleasure surging through you in waves, threatening to consume you entirely in your desperate need for him.

as the intensity built, you felt the tension humming along your skin, every nerve ending alight with pleasure, and you were sure you were about to explode. everything that had once held you apart seemed to vanish, replaced by an intoxicating mix of thrill and desperation.

“only this moment matters,” he growled, his breath hot against your ear, sending a shiver through you. “forget everything else.”

then, as he thrust deeper, hitting that sweet spot inside you with reckless abandon, it sent you spiraling over the edge. the pleasure crested like a tidal wave, crashing through you, leaving you gasping as you reached the pinnacle, crying out his name as you surrendered completely.

and in that intoxicating chaos, both of you knew this encounter would haunt your thoughts long after tonight, a secret filled with pure, unrestrained lust that left you gasping for more.

⭑.ᐟauthor note .ᐟ ive honestly wanted to push over my comfort zone in my writing, and tried to do some smut. (ᵕ—ᴗ—) this is pure experiment, ive never ever tried to write smut before honestly, i would like some feedback 🫶

[kaivenom]

Hey same person who asked for OP DILF x MILF reader

How about them reacting to MILF reader having a kid? (Even funnier if it was like luffy or zoro lol)

OP DILFS dating a MILF who has a kid

Characters: Mihawk, Doflamingo, Crocodile, Smoker,Shanks.

A/N: Two things. First one: i love this, i really had a good time writing it, you have great ideas my dear anon. Second one: exams are finally oveeeer, so i would be trying to update more than usual to get all the requests out of the hoven for everyone.

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

After taking care of Zoro and Perona, he thinks that he is ready for everything.

One day you were both on the kitchen and he like ussual is reading paperwork.

"It looks like the new generation it's going strong, this kid seems a good swordsman." he shows you the picture.

"Drac, i think it's time for us to talk." he almsot felt fear for a moment, "that kid it's mine, not like you and Zoro, literally that is my son." his mind exploded, you never saw him that concerned.

"And when will you have said this to me?"

"I am telling you now... you know how difficult it's to date at our age, especcially being a woman who already has a kid?" he nodded and pushed you closer, "i planned on telling you soon, i just, didn't know how, i was expecting something like this to happen to have the oportunity to tell you.

"You are lucky i already have practice with that green haired boy... call him, we can set a dinner and i can meet him formally, maybe even bond?" you coudln't help but smile and kiss him.

Donquixote Doflamingo

He already has experience with children since he literally adopted a lot of them.

One day someone robbed on the royal treasure chamber of Dressrosa and he was furious, he was looking for you to help him relax.

"My dove, i need some of your assistance on my d..."

"And when i tell you i date someone your best idea it's to rob him? you are lucky i found you and your stupid friends before he did? and.... " you finally became aware of his presence, but his eyes were already glued to the teenager.

You grabbed your child by the collar of the shirt and went to the door, your previous angry look bacame softer seen how Doflamingo's eyebrows were frowning.

"This is my son... i called him to Dressrosa so you could finally meet him but he decided to 'prove you'... i dont know what was on his mind. I have the treasure located and coming back to the chamber."

"You have a child." Doflamingo looked at the verge of an aneurysm, gritting his teeth.

"I do, please, don't punish him... i thake the responsability." his lips curled in a strange smile, like he was trying to fake it.

"I am honored to meet your son, it's impressive to know how skilled he is, maybe he can join court..." clearly Doffy was having a hard time trying not to kill you son.

Sr. Crocodile

Experience 0, oblivious 100%

He was on his office, doing work and you appeared with your son.

"Croc..." he turned the chair and looked at you both, "dear, i told you i don't need more agents... i don't know how you contacted someone with such a high bounty but i don't need it." and he turned the chair again.

"This is my son..." Crocodile was thankfull for being backwards to you cause he choked on the cigar.

"Your what?"

"SIr Crocodile, i am (Y/N)'s son, i was hoping to meet you and bond a little, i wasn't expecting a job... but if you give it to me i am not going to complain."

"You already have a job as bounty hunter, don't try to take advantage of this." you poked your son's cheek under Crocodile's surprised look.

"I..." he cleared his throat, trying to sound serious and prepared, "pleasure to meet you child, i would have appreaciate it a warning."

"I warned you, i left a note on the fridge that said 'special meeting today, i have a surprise'" your son started to laugh.

"That sounded like a booty call, jajaja, maybe he was expecting you to come here in lingerie." you punched your son on the head to make him shut up.

"I can make a reserve on the restaurant we both like and i can know you better." he tried to sound profesional but your son was right, he tought you would give him a sexy surprise, not this.

Smoker

He was really tired of dealing with teenage pirates.

He spent the last week chasing and fighting agaisnt a new supernova, he was tired and just wants to get home to you.

"Hello love." he said while hanging his uniform, then he got to the living room and saw that same supernova playing cards with you, "i don't know what you are doing here bastard but you are not going to hurt my..."

"Relax old men, i was just paying a visit to my mother." Smoker got his mind reset.

"Smoker sweetie, this is my son."

"How couldn it be your son? you are a marine."

"Same happens with Garp, but he is a grandfather.... i think maybe this is a nice time for you two to meet." you were really nervous but tried to sound chill and smooth.

"Oh mother, we already know each other, thi sis the man that has been chasing me all week." the moment got worse every second and you wanted to hide, but you felt Smoker sat next to you and put his arm on your should, "noooo, cut the romantic things, i am going to throw up."

"Don't talk to us like that, yesterday i was furious that you were so childish but right now, i wont tolerate you talking to your mother or me with such a disrespectful tone." you had to hide a laugh, he clearly was getting his frustations out but at the same time trying to be nice. "so tell me, how can a son of a marine officer become a pirate?"

"Well..." and you knew that this would be a long night.

Akagami Shanks

Since Luffy and Uta, he was out of the parenting thing, for now.

You were sleeping and suddently canons started to burst on the ship, you got dressed and prepared to a new day at board.

"I am xxxxx, and i will defeat you, Red Head SHanks."

"On your dreams, child." canons were still bursting when you got on the ship and saw the attacker of the ship.

"Mom?" "Son?" you both said at the same time, Shanks mouth touched the ground.

"Come here you little prick, how could you blow the ship of your mother's fiancee."

"You are engaged? i didn't got the letter nor invitation, you don't love me or what? i know we don't live together anymore but..."

"I sent it yesterday, it should get to you in a couple of hours but... we took the covers of various newspapers, how could you not saw it?"

"You know i don't read that bullshit..." you both were yelling at each other from the ships, until Shanks decided to finally talk.

"And when i was going to know this?"

"Today!" he coudln't even talk, his mind was going to fast, another problematic child.

"Boy, stop blasting canons and get on the ship... i love your mother and i want to marry her, i can kill you."

"You are not going to kill me, i am going to defeat you."

"You can try, after the wedding and only if i am looking." you yelled at him and went to Shanks, "leave him, he is excited in reality to meet you."

"I must recompose myself, i must make him see i am a good stepfather."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Try, Try, Try 1

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics including adultery and trying to conceive. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: husband!Andy Barber, friend!Thor

masterlist - to be added

Summary: your husband puts high expectations on you but you don't think you'll ever be enough for him.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A single line. Negative. You cringe as you hold the plastic stick over the bin in disappointment. There’s a knock at the door. 

“Well,” Andy’s voice rumbles through. 

You drop the test into the garbage and exhale softly, “not this time.” 

You crank on the faucet and rinse off your hands. The door opens from the other side and Andy meets your eye in the mirror. You can see the same disappointment in him. He even looks angry. 

“You been taking your vitamins?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” you nod to the pillow box, each day a separate compartment, filled with the multicolor tablets. “I’m off coffee finally. No drinking. I gave Lisa a bunch of wine.” 

Your husband sighs, “you were ovulating. You said so.” 

“Andy,” you shrug. “It just takes time.” 

“Three years,” he says. “Yeah, a long time.” 

You wince at his disapproval. You shut off the tap and dry your hands. “I know. I’m trying.” 

“We’re both trying,” he insists. “Even on the days I’m tired, from working, when all I wanna do is nothing, I try. All according to your calendar. Are you sure you’re doing it right?” 

“What?” You face him. “Yeah, it’s an app and the tests--” 

“I don’t know. Maybe you aren’t trying as hard as me. Or maybe you’re hiding something.” 

His accusation is like a slap in the face. You blink furiously and shake your head, “what are you saying?” 

“You went to the OBGYN last week. How do I know you didn’t get pills? Or an insert?” 

“Huh?” You grimace. You got your IUD out the month before the wedding; because he asked. It wasn’t fun or easy. “Why--” 

“Cold feet? I mean, you leave dishes in the sink, maybe you’re not ready for a kid.” 

Your lashes flutter as your eyes burn. You leave a glass or two in the sink but the place isn’t a sty. You heave and swallow down the hurt. He’s frustrated. That’s it. 

“I’m ready. I’ve been just as ready as you,” you croak. 

“Hm, well, maybe you should book another appointment. Get a referral and figure out what’s wrong with you.” 

“What’s wrong--” 

“There are options. In vitro. Surrogate,” he crosses his arms and leans on the door frame, “I’m not getting any younger. Neither are you.” 

You want to say that it could be him. That you’re not necessarily the problem but you can’t be entirely sure of that. You sniffle, “Andy, I want it just as bad. I understand that it’s hard but you don’t have to be mean.” 

“Cecilia and Mark started trying last year and she’s about to pop,” he retorts. “And Timothy, he’s older than I am and he’s got twins.” 

“Andy,” you plead. “You’re acting like this is some conspiracy.” 

He looks away as if to suggest that’s possible. You stagger with hurt. His mom always accused you of being a gold digger. Does he believe you? He’s the one who told you to quit your job and stay home. 

He clears his throat and his eyes flick over sharply, “almost forgot. Found a cooking course for you. Down at the Elmwood.” 

“A cooking... what?” 

“Mom suggested it. Said it could help with everything. Make it more manageable if you know what you’re doing.” He drops his hands to his hips. 

“But... you like my cooking.” 

“Honey, you cook out of cans and the freezer. It’s something but if we’re going to have a little one, you need to start making more organic meals. Processed foods are awful, especially if you’re going to be breastfeeding,” he girds. 

Your heart sinks even further. You just can’t do anything right. Not since he put that ring on your finger. You’ve let him down in so many ways. You can’t give him a baby, you can’t cook what he likes, and last night he said you were too dry. Not your fault when he doesn’t offer any foreplay. 

“It will be fun too,” he offers. “I’m sure you’ll make some friends. Maybe some who can give you good advice... moms.” 

You restrain the flinch and nod. “Sure, probably will be. I guess... learning new things is good.” 

“Sure it will be, honey,” he shoves away from the wall and comes closer. “Look, it’s not that bad, alright?” He brushes his hand over your hip and along your lower back. He turns you to face him, “we can try again. Before work?” 

He pulls you against him and you have to resist tearing away. You’re not mad. You’re hurt. Why can’t he ever tell you what you do right? 

“Sure,” you run your hands up his white tee shirt. 

“Mm, when’s the last time we were spontaneous?” He purrs as his attitude shifts entirely. “Come on, get on the counter. Just like old times.” 

Your cheeks sear at the memory. When you were his law clerk, it was so exciting. Your little rendezvous, the under the desk fun. Now it’s so much pressure. Now he really feels like your boss. 

He backs you up and you brace the counter. He helps you up and pushes between your knees. You gasp as he steps between them and pulls down the straps of your nightie. A shiver speckles goosebumps across your chest as he bends to bury his face. 

You clasp the back of his head as he fondles one tit in his hand and latches onto the other. He groans as he teethes at you and sucks as he pulls back, stretching your nipple until it pops free. He looks up at you and purrs. 

“You know, when you’re expecting, those are gonna be bigger,” he stands and you hide your disappointment. No foreplay. Again. “I can’t wait.” 

He spreads your knees and pulls you so your pelvis is curled. He pushes down the elastic of his boxers as he slides you closer to the edge. He grabs your shoulder, pushing you back against the mirror as he guides himself along your cunt. 

He growls as he pushes inside of you, rocking until he finds his way in. He grunts and snaps his hips as you whine. It scrapes dryly as you’re unprepared for his suddenness. You brace his forearm and grit down on the pain. 

“You’re dry again,” he snarls and thrusts. 

You rasp, “sorry, I’m trying.” 

You reach down to your clit and he swats your hand away. He snags your wrists and brings them above your head. He pins them to the mirror and rams in harder. You whimper and curl your legs around him. 

“Ah, Andy--” 

“Yeah, you like it, don’t you? Like how big I am?” He pounds into you without patient. “Want me to fill you up, don’t you?” 

You gulp and gasp around his raw intrusion. He squeezes your wrists until your fingers throb and you notice how he watches himself in the mirror, almost entirely unconcerned with your presence. You turn your head down and bite your lip as he uses you. You just need him to get off and then you can go cook him a breakfast he won’t he even like. 

[charmac]

Danny did a little interview for AARP Magazine in December. I haven't seen it copied anywhere past the paywall and I enjoyed reading it, so wanted to repost here

(Article is pasted as text below the cut)

Noisemaker I was born in Asbury Park, New Jersey. I was the baby, my sister Theresa was 10 years older, my sister Angie was 16 years older, my mom had two sisters, and none of them shut up, ever. It’s an Italian family, so the decibel level is out there. A little smart aleck I went to Our Lady of Mount Carmel School, because if your mother and father didn’t know what to do with you, they gave you to the nuns. … and still a smart aleck I remember when Peter, my nephew, was born. I was 7 years old, and I went over and looked into the bassinet, and the first thing he did was pee on me. It was great! I don’t think there’s a conversation I’ve had with the guy over all these years where I don’t bring up the fact that he peed on me. Also an old softie Do anything you can to keep on an even keel with your family and friends, no matter what happens in your life. That’s all we have. Don’t hide things. You’ve got to get up every day thinking about how you’re going to make it easier for the people that you’re working with or that you love or that you eat breakfast with. Because it’s infectious; everybody starts feeling good. Falling into the business Growing up, I’d spend the weekends at the movies, but I actually wasn’t even thinking about doing it. I got introduced to the American Academy of Dramatic Arts in a roundabout way, took a couple classes, and I got the bug. And I thought, I’m not like Cary Grant, but I got a feel for this thing. So I studied, and then I went and started looking for jobs in New York, like every other actor does. I didn’t care what the description was—“male, 6 foot 4, 250 pounds”—I’d go out for the audition. Once I got in the room, I’m going to do what I’m going to do. Becoming Louie I wanted that part, Louie DePalma [in Taxi]. I walked into the room to audition in front of the four guys who created it, and I said, “One thing I want to know before we start. Who wrote this shit?” And I threw the script on the table. And I had a nanosecond of, did I screw everything up? Then they fell on the floor. Louie walked into their lives. Sudden fame I went to the market the day after the first episode aired, and people are stopping me on the street: “Hey, Louie!” They weren’t calling me Danny. After a couple of days of this, I called my publicist, and said, “This is really crazy. People are chasing me down the street.” He says, “Danny, you don’t have to worry until that stops happening.” Now it’s all, “Frank, Frank, Frank!” because of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, which is good. The fans are all you have. Still evolving I think I’m bolder than I’ve ever been—I don’t monitor myself as much. I do say things that are, like, pretty far out, that are really weird, and sometimes I’m inappropriate. But I am always respectful, and that’s because of my two sisters, I swear to God. You have to respect other people’s space.

My happy place Since my two grandbabies have been born, I am just in- corrigible. You gotta tamp me down in the joy department, you know what I’m saying? I’m just so lucky. Blessings have been showered down on me. I wish that for everybody.And the thing is to be aware of it. Don’t let it go. Rhea [Perlman, DeVito’s wife, from whom he is separated but with whom he still spends a lot of time] and I were always able to see those little, incremental changes when our kids were growing up. And I tell my kids that, with their babies: Don’t miss a thing, don’t look away. A sudden case of holidays I’m in the movie A Sudden Case of Christmas with my daughter Lucy, who plays my daughter. It’s just a real warm, wonderful movie, and I loved doing it. As far as the actual holidays go, we have family dinners. Basically we’re Italian, so you know, anybody who’s around, we grab. We get to celebrate all the holidays, because Rhea’s parents were Jewish, so we did all the Jewish holidays, and we do all the Catholic holidays or Italian holidays. My mantra It’s always a good thing to be positive about life, and always get out of bed thinking today’s the day you’re really going to kick its ass. That’s the way to do it

[jeonggukieverse]

Number One Fan:

Chapter 1 - The Accident

Pairing: Writer Y/N x Yandere Jungkook 

Genre: Yandere/Horror Fic 

Warnings: None in this Chapter

Word count: 4k

Synopsis - After a serious car crash, novelist Y/N is rescued by former nurse Jeon Jungkook, who claims to be her biggest fan. Jungkook brings her to his remote cabin to recover, where his obsession takes a dark turn when he discovers Y/N is killing off his favourite character from her novels. As Y/N devises plans for escape, Jungkook grows increasingly controlling.

A/N:

Y'all, the universe did not want the god forsaken fit written! My laptop got stolen ,my brother deleted my COMPLETED tic out of spite, my depression was whooping my ass but we pulled through. After 4 long months, it's here. If there are any spelling or grammar mistakes, my bad, I didn't proof-read this (I didn't want to jinx anything).

Leave a comment or reblog if you like it, id be super grateful <3333

- Ryeon <3

“Look Y/N, I just don’t think that this is rational. Or smart, for that matter. You’re giving up on your highest performing book series and for what? ‘You’ve grown to hate the main character?’ It’s your character! Change her!” 

You rolled your eyes as Yoongi’s voice boomed through the speakers of your car. You understood why he was upset, of course. Yoongi had been the first one to go out on a limb and take a chance on 18-year-old Y/N. When you first met him, you had not a shred of credibility or writing experience to your name, just a couple of characters, a good story and a dream. Yoongi took a real gamble with you; he was one of the most sought-after literary agents in the game. You handed him your first ever manuscript at one of the book signings of a writer he was working with and begged him to read just one chapter. That took courage on your part because Yoongi was terrifying back then. His demeanour was stern and his hair was jet black and slicked back, the shade perfectly matching his suit. Both contrasted the alabaster pale shade of this skin. He was handsome and frightening but your ambitions were stronger than your fears. Luckily it paid off! Yoongi loved your manuscript and poured everything into getting it published. 

That was 10 years and 9 books ago. The ‘Moth to Flame’ series had been a massive hit. The tale of romance and passion had become a worldwide sensation and catapulted you into the public eye. For the past 10 years you relished in the reality that your dream job was the one you were blessed to be doing. 

That was until a year ago. 

Yoongi had called you to his office completely beaming with excitement. 

“Go on then Mr. Min, tell her!” Urged Gretta, Yoongi’s 70-year-old assistant. She was buzzing with the same enthusiastic energy as the man who stood before you. 

“Tell me what? You two are scaring me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Yoongi smile this much” you chuckled while sitting yourself down in the chair in front of his big mahogany desk. 

Gretta giggled at your lightly panicked tone and Yoongi simply hummed in agreement. He was a very self-aware guy. He often reserved any outward expressions of joy for when the circumstances were great. And these circumstances were indeed great. 

“I’ve just come off the phone with Panoma Film Studios. And they have asked for a meeting with us to discuss signing over the rights of ‘Moth to Flame” 

“Sign over the rights? Why are they asking for that?” 

“They want to make it a film dear!” Gretta burst out, arms flailing above her head in celebration. 

The moment suddenly stilled for you. You contemplated for only a second before you came to a decision: 

“Fine”

Yoongi was taken a back. One: by your immediate compliance. In the 10 years he had known you, not once have you agreed to something without an argument. And Two: there was not a shred of joy in your tone. The monotonous ‘fine’ completely juxtaposed the light-hearted jabs that came from you just moments ago. He was worried. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. I’m happy” you said looking back to the man with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Gretta, could you grab us both a cup of tea please?” 

“Yes Mr. Min” replied Gretta, her mood now slightly deflated as the atmosphere had shifted to a more solemn one. You felt sorry about that, she had seemed so happy. 

As the door closed behind her, Yoongi’s eyes narrowed back on you. 

“Alright kid, now tell me what’s up”.

“I don’t wanna do this anymore Yoongs. I’m done. I’m sick of writing this series. I have no connections with the story anymore cause I’ve been writing from the same perspective since I was 18 and I’m almost 30 now. It’s time for me to move on”. 

You watched as his face drained of its colour. 

“W-What?” 

You paused as silence engulfed the room. You could have expanded on your decision but you wanted to let it sink in and for him to fully come to terms with it. because you were absolutely not going to be swayed about it. 

“Then why would you agree to signing the writes away?”

“Cause once its officially not mine anymore I can legitimately move on. The series be their responsibility to carry on and mould and shape it into whatever they want. The burden of these characters I’ve grown to, honestly, despise will no longer be on my shoulders. And I’ll finally be free to write what I want”. 

You could see the cogs turning in his head. Yoongi was struggling to put into words anything that would influence you to change your mind and not give up on their most profitable published work. But you shut that down. 

“This book I’m writing will be the 10th and last on of the series.” 

In the year that followed, you stayed true to your word. You had spent the whole year finalising the last piece of the story. You tied off any loose ends. You finalised everything. 

It was done. 

Last week, you headed back to Yoongi’s office to hand in your finished manuscript. 

You strolled knocked on the door only to be startled by a voice behind you. 

“He’s at lunch deary” 

You spun around to be met with a warm familiar smile. 

“Hi Gretta, sorry, I probably should have called first to let someone know I was coming over.” You babbled as she ushered you into her office and offered you a plate of muffins. Standard Gretta procedure. 

Gretta was your first friend in the publishing world. Well aside from Yoongi. 

She used to be an editor for the most popular newspaper in the country. But when her husband got sick, she decided to swap the hustle and bustle of the big city to a slower pace in the countryside. She always joked that even though her husband was the one being healed by the fresh country air; she was the one that healed the most. Being away from everything made her appreciate all she had. Her and her husband began to re learn each other after so many years and they learned to fall in love all over again. 

You always loved hearing their stories. Their love for each other inspired you through your first bout of writers block. Their stories helped you write the 5th book in your series. You even dedicated it to them (and their pup Angus, of course). 

The only reason she had crossed paths with Yoongi was because she was seeking out a part time job to keep herself busy. He said she came into the interview like a whirlwind, not affected by his intimidating aura in the slightest. When you asked her about how she could go up against the fierce jaguar like man, she responded with: Jaguar? To me he was nothing but a kitten. And you’d loved her since then. 

“Don’t worry dear. He should have come back by now but he’s talking to a new potential client. She’s a 19-year-old wanting to pitch her love story. Sound familiar?” 

You hummed. 

“Let’s hope she flushed out her characters better than I did.”

“Now Y/N Y/L/N, I don’t want to hear any of that! You’re a fantastic writer, George and I have spent many afternoons reading your books! Some of the stories take us back to our early days when we were young and in love and I’m sure it does the same for other people too” 

“Thank you, Gretta. You always know the right thing to say” you smiled, popping a piece of cherry muffin in your mouth. 

“My dear, can I speak frankly?” 

You gulped. Not only to finally swallow the delectable cherry muffin but also because Gretta almost never spoke in such a serious tone.

You nodded, unsure of where this conversation was about to go. 

“Why are you really finishing your series? And don’t give me the same bullshit you gave Yoongi about not liking your characters! I know you Y/N and I know that’s not it. Or if it is, it isn’t that reason alone” 

Damn, she’s good. 

“Well, if I’m being honest Gretta, I feel like a fraud. All my life I’ve been reading and writing about love and life and I’ve never experienced either. I just…I just want to experience the love that you and George have, the love that I write about but I can’t and I’m afraid that my writing is reflecting that. Like just the other day a saw a critic say that my stories are ‘no longer grounded in reality’ and at first, I brushed it off but you know what? They’re right?” 

“That was Archie from the Gazette, wasn’t it? I tell you dear that boy doesn’t know his arse from his elbow.” 

You let out a cackle. Her quick reply stopped you from spiralling. Gretta really always did know the right thing to say. 

“But if you’re really worried about that, take some time away! You’ve been working non-stop since you were practically a baby. Well, a baby to me.” She remarked as she walked over to sit directly in front of you. She reached out towards you and held your hands in hers. 

“And if you really feel like you’re not grounded, take the time away to find the ground”. 

“But how do I know where the ground is?” 

“Well, when I’m looking for something I can’t find, I try to remember the last place I had it.” 

“The last time I felt grounded was…back home at my parents’ house. Before I moved to come here to write properly” 

“Then I think that’s a good a place as any to start dear. Take a couple of months to really decide if ending this is something you really want to do. You know I will support you regardless but I want the decision to be done to come from you being done. Rather than you being afraid” 

You leaned in and enveloped her small for with a warm embrace. 

Gretta is the mum your inner child longed for. Any interaction with her felt like it was healing pieces of your soul. 

She was right. She always was. 

So you packed your bags and headed back home. 

“Y/N I think this trip will do you good. Just take some time decompress and do whatever it is you people do out there in the sticks” 

“Okay city boy, not too much! Oak Falls is not the sticks. You think anywhere that doesn’t have at least 5 coffee shops on one street is practically the middle of know where” 

“And im absolutely right. How’s the journey so far? When do you think you’ll get home”. Yoongi said, changing the subject. He knew you would annihilate him in defence of your town. Oak Falls wasn’t great but it was home.

“I should be there in about 20 minutes which is good cause it feels like the snow is getting heavier” 

“Will your parents be home when you get there?” 

“I think so. My mum usually finishes work around this time and my dad probably stayed at home today. I couldn’t imagine him working on the farm in this weather. Even if they’re not there, I know where they hide the spare key. They’ll just get a bit of a fright, since they don’t know that I’m coming”  

“Well just- mak-s-re you le-t-someon-kn-“

Yoongi’s call began to break up before it cut out completely.

You felt uneasy but you tried to push it aside, you’ll be there soon anyway. 

Soon you’d be home and out of this snowstorm that seem to have come out of nowhere.

One moment, the winding mountain road was clear, and the next, thick flakes fell like a blanket coating the tarmac in a blinding white.  Suddenly the road before you had completely disappeared. 

The tires of your car were now struggling for grip as you clutched the steering wheel tighter your heart racing with every skid. The storm was growing worse, and the isolation of the empty road offered no comfort.

You cursed under your breath. Of all the times for your phone to lose signal, it had to be now. The narrow road twisted and turned unpredictably, the guardrails barely visible under the thick accumulating snow. Your headlights fought to pierce the fog, but even they seemed overpowered by the storm.

Then it happened.

A patch of ice sent the car sliding to the side. Your hands wrestled with the steering wheel, but the car had a mind of its own. The screech of tires on ice was drowned out by the pounding of your heart.

The car spun out of control, crashing through the flimsy guardrail and sliding down a small embankment before slamming to a halt against a snowbank.

Pain flared in your head, sharp and immediate. Disoriented, you blinked, trying to focus, but the world around you swam in a dizzying haze. Blood trickled down your temple, warm against the chill that spilled through the cracked window. The engine sputtered and died, leaving you in an eerie silence, except for the howling wind outside.

You tried to move, but your body protested. A groan escaped your lips as you reached for your phone, only to find it flung somewhere out of reach. Panic bubbled in your chest. You were stranded in the middle of nowhere, injured, and utterly alone.

Or so you thought.

The sound of crunching snow reached your ears. Footsteps. Your pulse quickened as a shadow appeared just outside the shattered driver’s side window. A man crouched down, his features obscured by a thick coat and scarf wrapped tightly around his face. Only his eyes were visible, dark and intense as they scanned your injuries.

“Miss? Are you okay?” his voice cut through the storm, soft yet commanding.

You tried to respond, but your throat was dry, and your words came out as a weak croak. The man didn’t wait for an answer. He opened the door carefully, his movements precise and deliberate, as if afraid of startling you.

“You’re hurt,” he said, his brows furrowing in concern. “Don’t move. I’ll get you out.”

Before you could protest, his arms were around you, lifting you as if you weighed nothing. The sudden movement made your vision swim, and you leaned into his chest instinctively, the scent of pine and something distinctly warm enveloping you.

“We need to get you inside,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “You’re lucky I was nearby.”

Your sluggish brain registered his words but couldn’t process the implications. All you knew was that you were no longer in the freezing car, and someone was helping you. Darkness tugged at the edges of your vision as he carried you through the storm, his footsteps steady and sure despite the treacherous ground.

When you opened your eyes again, you were inside a warm, dimly lit room. The faint crackle of a fireplace filled the air, and the scent of wood smoke mingled with something sweet—maybe tea. Your head throbbed as you tried to sit up, but a firm hand pressed against your shoulder, guiding you back down.

“Easy,” the man said, his voice close now. “You’ve been through a lot. Just rest.”

Your eyes finally focused on him. He was kneeling beside the couch you were lying on, his dark hair slightly damp from the snow. His features were striking, almost too perfect, with chapped lips and eyes that seemed to pierce straight through you. He smiled gently, but there was something unreadable in his expression that made your stomach twist.

“Who...” Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard. “Who are you?”

“My name is Jungkook,” he said simply, his gaze unwavering. “I found you on the side of the road. You’re lucky I was passing through. There’s no cell service out here, and the storm would’ve buried your car by morning.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, though the words felt inadequate.

“No need to thank me,” he replied, his smile widening just a fraction. “I’m just glad I got to you in time.”

He stood and moved to the fireplace, adjusting the logs with practiced ease. The warm light danced across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the soft curve of his mouth. Despite his calm demeanour, there was an intensity about him that you couldn’t ignore.

“Where am I?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“My cabin, just on the outskirts of Oak Falls” he said, turning back to you. “It’s not much, but it’ll keep you safe until the storm passes.”

Your gaze wandered around the room. The cabin was small but cosy, with wooden walls that seemed to glow in the firelight. A thick woven rug covered the floor in front of the stone fireplace, and a few mismatched but comfortable-looking chairs were arranged around it. Shelves lined one wall, crammed with books, jars of dried herbs, and a few trinkets that looked hand-carved. A table sat near the kitchen area, which was marked by a small counter, a sink, and an old-fashioned stove. The whole space felt lived-in, almost charming, but there was an underlying sense of isolation that made your chest tighten

Safe. The word lingered in your mind, both reassuring and unsettling.

“Your head’s bleeding,” he continued, his tone softening. “I’ll clean it up. Hold on”

Before you could respond, Jungkook disappeared into another room and returned with a first aid kit. He knelt beside you again, his hands surprisingly gentle as he cleaned the wound on your temple. The sting of the antiseptic made you wince, but he murmured soothing words, his touch steady and careful.

“There,” he said, placing a bandage over the cut. “All better.”

You mumbled a quiet “thank you,” your exhaustion weighing heavily on you now. Jungkook’s eyes softened, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face. The gesture was tender, almost too intimate, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Get some rest,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll take care of everything.”

As your eyes drifted shut, the last thing you saw was Jungkook’s enigmatic smile. Safe, you thought again, though the word no longer felt quite right.

Tag List: @whothefuckisthishoe @sexinukim @darkuni63 @00frenchfries00 @hopeworldsupremecy

[rongzhi]

(Apologies in advance for typos.)

^ My original tags on this, but actually, I wanted to expand on my views about this a little bit based on some other collected musings I had about the XHS move (which—now that the dust has settled a bit, is it still going on? I don't even know). I'll preface this by saying that my own XHS has been pretty much spared of the wave of American signups, since my feed is mostly art/tattoos and not so much lifestyle/vlogs.

Mainly, I wanted to dig into that feeling of being "over it", a sentiment I've seen circulated on Tumblr by other Chinese diaspora. I think it's a IYKYK situation in some ways but I wonder if non-Chinese diaspora are precisely aware of why there is a underlying sense of caution and this side-eyeing toward everything going on. (To an extent, I think non-Americans who have to deal with us Americans dominating internet spaces probably also have some insight into this.)

Essentially, after that initial cute "haha" feeling of seeing people jump into a new space and meeting all the new people, for me personally, just from having run this blog for 4 years now, I feel distinctly aware that things could go wrong.

Others have said it better, be it pointing out the infantilising or inherent sinophobia, but there is a slant to that attitude of jumping on a new app and discovering that Chinese people can be funny, that they can be kind, that they are sociable and, in basic terms, "just like you", that leaves a bitter taste in the mouth. Oh, you just realised that? People can argue that it was never possible to connect with Chinese netizens before all they want, but in fact, clearly, it was as easy as downloading an app that's free on U.S app stores. Next, you could say, well, there's cultural exchange happening now, which is better than nothing, so what are you so pissy about! I agree, I'm not saying it's a bad thing that some Americans are finally making some attempt to converse with someone outside of their Western, Anglo internet bubble (even if they did so as in the comfort of what is essentially another bubble, as part of a trend). Obviously there is a net good to a person joining XHS, and my wariness mostly comes down to this sense of "discovery" coming with a feeling that Chinese people are still getting lumped into a monolith. Maybe now the monolith is nice and friendly; now the monolith is cute and funny and helpful.

What happens if the Tiktokers realise that some Chinese people also are more socially conservative, or that there are societal issues that Chinese people still have to work through, which aren't ideal or progressive enough for the Enlightened Americans—then what? I've already seen the answer in smaller doses over the years, so I don't know about others, but this is something that I—maybe—hopefully just cynically—can't help but keep my ears tuned towards: the other shoe dropping. Again, for Chinese diaspora (and no doubt, diaspora of any culture in a similar situation), it's "if you know, you know"; we've seen the fickleness of attitudes. The xenophobia and sinophobia that run rampant in U.S society (and I'm sure other western countries, but I speak as a USian) is well known to us in a way that mainlanders often don't take heed toward. Even if there is a sinophobic backlash over anything that arises online, the brunt of it won't be felt by Chinese netizens but us Chinese diaspora who spend the most time in Anglo internet spaces. So, I'm a bit over it all. I've seen how interest in China can play out—for example, how learning Mandarin or being a fan of cdramas or hanfu hardly frees a person of their sinophobia or from regurgitating xenophobic talking points.

It's nice but naive to think that the majority of the tiktokers playing around on XHS right now, trading memes and basking in the numbers of Chinese social media, will truly self-interrogate all too deeply. If some of them seem to have only just realised that Chinese people are ~so nice~, how Other have they been seeing Chinese diaspora? Is that still the case? Will they necessarily make the same effort to know and listen to Chinese diaspora? (People in cfandom will know the answer).

Again, I think there's an overall positive to all this, especially in this ~political climate~ (altho I doubt the people who need positive interaction with Chinese people the most downloaded XHS lol). I guess I just wanted to add all this because because I feel like my first response was quite vague and on second thought, I figured I might as well try to unravel some of my thoughts and impart them to anyone who maybe had no idea there was this perspective to things. Call me jaded or no fun at parties all you like, but that's literally just how it is.

Lastly, I'll just say that from me scrolling douyin, I've also seen how people in China have reacted to the influx of Americans on XHS, so I can tell you a little bit of the other side. It also corresponds a little with what I'm trying (but maybe failing) to say about Chinese diaspora: the people who have been having as much/equal fun with the convergence of internet spaces have been mainlanders with no general dealings with Americans. In the past week, the bloggers I've seen who've been vocal/warning about Chinese people not bending over backwards to start speaking English all the time, or just following/kissing up to Americans because they're white*, have been Chinese netizens—mainly students—who live/study abroad.

* Yes, obviously there are non-White Americans, but white people are, as ever, uplifted the most by society on the basis of being white. We know this.

how do you feel about so many americans getting on 小红书?

[revelboo]

Would Thundercracker's human friend from Better Open the Door ever be able to convince TC to let them go home? (Their actual home lmao)

Or would he just plain refuse to see reason forever?

Like, he seems reasonable enough, if a bit... Clingy. And lonely. And sad.

I mean, I'd gladly be his friend, and talk about movies with him. But being kept in his room like a glorified pet is a bit much.

He would when the guilt kicks in hard enough, wanting to prove he cares and listens, even if he hates it. That said, he’s absolutely going to spend every free minute he has stalking you from above in his alt mode to keep you safe.

Better Open The Door Pt 15

Thundercracker x Reader

• Drowsing sprawled on him, it’s strange to feel so comfortable. One of his hands on the small of your back and the other on your butt. Resting your chin on him you study that handsome, alien face that’s become so familiar to you. Knowing you’re falling for him despite still being unhappy with him and you’re tempted to ruin it all. Trying to gather up the nerve to ask again, because if he really cares about you, he has to understand he has to let you go eventually.

• Optics brightening when he feels you move on him, he tucks his chin to see you. And you look so lovely sprawled on him, servos flexing on you when you yawn. “Sleep okay?” He asks and you lay your cheek back down against him. This moment. He wants to keep it forever. The way you look waking up in his arms, hair messy and eyes sleepy. “I’m probably not a very comfortable bed, am I?”

• “You’re warm.” Painfully aware of your own nakedness when the servos of one hand slides up your spine and his other hand gently flexes on your butt. And there’s his spike hardening against your hip. “Already? It’s hard to have a conversation when you do that,” you protest. And he smiles crookedly at you, expression almost boyish and not at all ashamed.

• “You have that effect on me,” he admits, cupping your chin and tipping it up. Venting when you lean up on him, mouth brushing his in a much too brief kiss. “Not so fast.” Servos threading through your hair to cup the back of your head, he tugs you back to him, mouth lazily exploring yours.

• Laughing as you break away and his servos lazily comb through your hair, you push up to straddle him and his servos skim up your body and then back down to rest on your hips. Remembering his words from the night before. That he’d said he loved you when he barely knows you. Even if the way he looks up at you is almost worshipful. “Can we talk?” Does he even really understand what love is or is he just fascinated with those love stories he watches?

• Servos wandering to cup soft skin, he rumbles at you. Do you think you really need to ask? That there’s anything he wouldn’t do for you? “Of course.” Servos stroking over you, he wonders if he can bond you. What it would be like to feel you tangled in his spark, touching him intimately. Why are you frowning at him? “Is something wrong?”

• “No, it’s just- It’s nothing,” you say, one of your hands covering his as it wanders and squeezes. And he’s frowning at you now, reaching up to tap a servo against your bottom lip. Waiting expectantly and you cringe. “You know you can’t just keep me here forever. Right? I have family and they must be worried.”

• Expression closing off, he catches your wrist when you start to pull away. Upset with him. Hasn’t he taken care of you? Protected you? “You’re not a prisoner,” he says, voice flat. Empty as his spark constricts. Was it only fragging to you? Nothing more? “I just want you to be happy. Safe.” And if you don’t want him, he’ll let you go. He’ll watch over you even if you don’t want him. Set you free and protect you from a distance as it kills him. You’re everything to him. “Is that what you want? To leave?” If so, he’ll stay as close as he can, let you have your freedom while you can, because as soon as the war starts up again, he’ll bring you back home to him no matter what you want. Can’t lose you.

Previous

Probably a good idea to add a warning to the first chapters of it and TFA Blitzwing’s fic

[hoiststowline]

Heloooooo

I see your reqs are open

I'd love to see reader using hotrod/rodimus as a heater and Roddy being like sorry I can't get up their asleep.

rodimus x reader

[a/n: hello!! & thank you, this was sm fun to write!]

He swears he has it down to a perfect science, but he’d rather keep that to himself than try to justify his second grade equation at best to Perceptor who rolled his eyes four times during the explanation. It benefits you first, the most important part- and at the very least the other two things that follow after are just collateral he was willing to accept.

Rodimus should not have access to the thermostat. That is evident when the temperature always seems to fluctuate dramatically about an hour before he’s needed to appear for something, whether it be a meeting or a routine sweep to ensure everything was in working order.

It’s always the thermostat right within your wing of the ship, locked but always broken into. The bottom button almost appears damaged, as if the offender had clicked it so many times it had begun to become worn-down and unusable.

As if on cue, roughly about fifteen minutes after the crime occurs, you’re shuffling into his room with a blanket wrapped around your shivering form. Rodimus can’t entirely feel the drastic change, he can sense it’s colder than normal, but the dipping temperature always sends you into an adorable pout.

“It’s broken again?” You murmur, each syllable accompanied by a visible breath. “That’s the third time this week,”

“I don’t think it was ever really fixed from last time,” It’s almost pitiful, the way he can’t even try to contain his smile. “Just got worse, I guess.”

He observes you, finding patience for about two seconds before he’s on his feet, being selfish for just another moment. He loves you, and wants nothing more in this instance than to give you undivided attention and sloppy kisses.

“What?” You ask, tilting your head back to meet his gaze. “I came here to complain, I didn’t-“

But both he and you knew that was a lie. You’d walked perfectly into Rodimus’ trap, perhaps subconsciously seeking his warmth that you knew he radiated. The Prime was a walking heater, and he had ensured early on that you were well aware of it.

Somehow, he’d coaxed you to his side. You couldn’t quite pinpoint the moment exactly, but it was most likely when your hands began to tremble from the cold. No amount of blankets could save you, especially within a metal ship where every surface ran about thirty degrees cold on average.

Rodimus always says the same thing every time, about how you slot so perfectly between his shoulder and helm. The most important spot, where he can rub his cheek along your stomach and keep you safely positioned there with his right servo. It’s effective, as the first time you’d actually found his chassis ran so hot you almost couldn’t bear it.

“Don’t you have a meeting in like thirty minutes?” You mumble, impossibly tiny fingers tracing random lines along his helm.

“So you’ve got thirty minutes. Take it or leave it,” He’ll never let you leave, because he enjoys this far too much. Like he said, he’s helping to solve your immediate problem, but the bonus is that he gets this time with you, alone, and the small hiccup was just that.

It isn’t very long before you’re asleep, entirely still as your breathing evens out. It’s perfect, and how you haven’t caught on yet is a mystery for another time, though he has his own suspicions you’re far wiser to this than you display. It wouldn’t matter, even if he didn’t have to break the thermostat every other day or so, because it was all part of the fun.

Right on time, the door to his room slides over, and there stands a certain bot he’d been precariously avoiding. “You cannot be serious.” Magnus whispers, only being compliant because it was you, not so much for Rodimus’ sake. “This is the third time this week. You can’t get out of your responsibilities because you’ve tricked y/n into your schemes.”

“Sorry,” That ever sincere smile appears, gesturing to his company with a hushed tone. “Can’t do anything about it until they wake up. You’ll have to carry on without me,”

And like always, Magnus departs, mildly frustrated, but he can’t ever find the sense in waking you up. For a while, it keeps Rodimus appeased, and if he has to sacrifice some broken thermostats and delayed meetings to achieve it, then it’s worth it.

[romanteacism]

A Butterfly and A Dragon’s Flight Chapter Eight

Chapter Summary: It's fun to play pretend. Word Count: 5,700 Warnings: Revalations, Lady Elinora and Prince Aemond Growing Closer, Daeron and Edward Protecting Elinora from Aemond, Aemond and Elinora Playing Pretend, Secret Rendezvous

“I heard everything,” Edward stated as he came to Daeron’s door at first light. The prince is still discombobulated from sleep. Silver hair was disheveled, eyes barely opened, and he was only clutching a white sheet to cover himself. “What?” Daeron questioned, overcome by sleep and his tired state did not differentiate if this was real or just a dream. 

“Last night, in the halls. I heard you and Prince Aemond.” Edward stated more clearly as he pushed himself inside the chambers of the youngest prince. Daeron sat on the edge of his bed, trying to comprehend the words of his friend, staring blankly at the stone floors whilst Edward waited for his response. “You… you heard everything?” Daeron uttered, piecing together and trying to remember the whole of his and his brother’s conversation. “I have.” 

“Then I suppose you now know that we are aware of whom Eli is betrothed,” Daeron said cautiously. “What?! I— What I heard was you playing a failed matchmaker between Prince Aemond and Elinora and how he only lusts after her— you know who my sister is betrothed to?! Even I do not know the man!” Edward exclaimed, and the booming voice of the young lord finally woke the young prince. “Do you really not know? We thought you knew! And you were simply doing your parent’s bidding and not telling Elinora or anyone who he is.” Daeron said as he stood and moved behind a divider to dress himself in a robe. “No! If I had known, I would have told Elinora the moment I knew! I do not agree with our parent’s decision to keep her in the dark when it came to her intended. I, too, wish to know who the man is in order to know if he is deserving of my sister!”

Daeron sighed as he stepped out, “It’s Jacaerys,” He revealed and watched as Edward’s wide, green eyes further widened. “A bastard!? They betrothed my sister to a bastard!?” Edward exclaimed in scandal, and Daeron quickly moved to hush his friend. “Imbecile! If the wrong ears heard you, your tongue could be cut!” Daeron warned and tried to make Edward sit back down, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. “But yes, Elinora is betrothed to a bastard… However, my grandfather reassured us that such a marriage would never take place. He had spoken with your parents, and a quiet agreement has been made that Elinora will not marry Jacaerys— he had gone to great lengths to ensure that whatever agreement or engagements are null and void.” Daeron reassured. 

“She can’t marry him… they cannot place her in such a position— Do not twist my words; I am not underestimating my sister, but you and I both know how Elinora is… she can’t even refuse meanless conversation from pitiful lords during balls even though she does not wish for it— what more when it is a band of small folk demanding her?” Edward said in great concern the same concerns that Daeron had when he learned that Elinora was bound to marry Prince Jacaerys. 

“I know, I know… I, too, had the same thoughts. But it is no use in fretting over the matter. Rest assured, no marriage shall take place. Jacaerys is already taken by the daughter of Daemon, and Elinora knows not that she is betrothed to him— in time, it was as if no betrothals took place.” 

“But what about your brother?” Edward then questioned. “I cannot in good conscience stay under the same roof as him, who had been sniffing around my sister! It is one thing to suspect what men think of Elinora— but to hear him shamelessly utter it is… I cannot stand for it, Daeron!” Edward began to seethe again. “I, too, cannot stand it, but what would you have us do? I have already warned and threatened my brother— and I know your manners nor station cannot warrant it. We cannot bring Uncle into this as it would spiral further out of control, and he will not hesitate to tell your parents, who will then undoubtedly lock Elinora in her cage.” Daeron rambled on. 

“Then what?” Edward questioned. “I do not know… but you are set to leave in a moon— we just need to watch over Elinora so that Aemond does not stray closer to her,” Daeron stated, and Edward could only nod with a grievous sigh, leaving his lips. His whole body was tense as he was proven right in all his accusations of the prince. “Go on then,” He stated. And Daeron frowned. “Go, accompany Elinora. I do not blame you fully, but it was your encouragement that managed for the two to grow fonder one another— now you must undo what you have done.” 

“Edward! You cannot hold that against me!” Daeron exclaimed. “I can and I will— unless you make certain that your brother shall not come close to my sister. Do you know what he did? He got her a cat! An adorable, fluffy little kitten whom Elinora is already smitten with! He has her in the palm of his hands!” Daeron groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He did not know fully Elinora’s view on Aemond, but if his brother got her a cat— something she had been longing for since she was a child, it was safe to say that there was already affection blooming in her heart. 

“Very well then,” He muttered and disappeared the divider once more to dress. “Make haste; she will wake soon, and she will undoubtedly go to the pond to feed the ducks, and undoubtedly, your brother shall be waiting for her.” Edward sneered as he had grown to expect and know where Aemond waited to have his little rendezvous with his sister. 

“Daeron!” Elinora breathed out in shock when she opened her door only to reveal Daeron waiting at the other end of it. “What… why are you awake so early?” She questioned as she looked towards the edge of the hall to see that the sun was barely in its quarter, far too early for Daeron to be awake and ready for the day. “Oh… I just couldn’t sleep— and seeing you always wake so early, I thought I might accompany you today. I feel as if we have not spent much time these days.” Daeron quickly fibbed. 

“You slept poorly? Best to try some chamomile and lavender tea— wine cannot always aid you in sleep, Daeron.” Elinora advised as she and Daeron began to walk toward the direction of the pond. Elinora clutched a sleeping Peony in her arms. “I do not like tea! It tastes bitter and as if I’m only drinking the essences of leaves and grass— which I am!” Daeron reasoned as he felt that Elinora was on the verge of chastising him for his habitual glass or two of wine before bed. “But it’s good for you! It calms you down when need be and gives you energy if you wish— you cannot only drink wine, Daeron… I fear you might turn into your eldest brother,” Elinora whispered the final part, conscious of whose ears were eavesdropping upon them. 

Daeron paused in his tracks, a dramatic gasp leaving his lips. “You wound me, Eli!” He said theatrically, his hand atop his chest as if he were actually wounded. “You dare compare me to… to Aegon? Of all people?!” Elinora bit her lip to hinder her laugh at Daeron’s antics. “My, my… the capitol has truly changed you— has made you cruel! I think it best we return to the Reach, what has Kingslanding done to our Eli?” Daeron continued, and Elinora could no longer stifle her laughs. 

“I am still the same Daeron… I am just worried about you,” She sighed, a small smile still on her lips that seemed to lighten the mood of the rather dreary topic they were partaking in. Elinora had always had that gift about her, a lightness to make any dark or bleak subject find a sense of optimism in it. “I know, and I thank you for your concern,” Daeron smiled and linked their arms. 

“So…” Elinora trailed, wanting to hear a certain sentence to leave Daeron’s lips. “Fine, I shall refrain from drinking excessively, lest I become Aegon,” Daeron agreed almost half-heartedly. He had no clue that his accompanying Elinora that morning meant he would give up wine. But he supposed that it was a small price to pay to prevent Aemond from slithering his way to Elinora’s side. 

When they arrived at the pond, Elinora saw no other presence present, quietly disappointing her. She had thought that Prince Aemond would be there, waiting for her to feed the ducks and swans just as they did the previous days. Elinora traveled her gaze further around the pond, but the sight of silver hair draped atop black leather was nowhere to be seen, making her sigh and instead forge the thought of Prince Aemond and instead focus on feeding the birds. 

She tried to remove her thoughts from Prince Aemond, but as she and Daeron fed the ducks, she could not help but still think of the prince. She had noticed he acted quite differently when others surrounded him. He was more rigid and aloof, just as he was during the previous night’s dinner. There was an edge in his voice and tenseness in his movements, a stark difference from how he was when Elinora would encounter him alone in the gardens and pond. 

Aemond gritted his teeth as he predictably saw his brother with Elinora, accompanying her to the pond that Daeron fully knew was where he and Elinora spoke and encountered one another without the disturbance of other interlopers. Aemond breathed heavily as he watched from behind a bush as Elinora arrived by the pond's edge, her eyes shifting, looking as if she was searching for someone— searching for him. 

Aemond swallowed thickly at such thoughts and the disappointed look in her jade eyes. Could it be possible? That someone would miss him? Would anyone truly wish to be in his presence and search for his whereabouts, and when not found, would turn disappointed? Aemond turned cold at such realizations. It was a rare sensation and instance, but he would think he should grow to expect it because someone like Elinora was truly rare.

He had the urge to just march towards the pond and announce his presence to her, to wipe away the disappointment in her eyes and let her see that he was there. That he did not forget their custom of feeding the ducks. However, Aemond’s caution ruled his wants. The prince instead left the gardens and pushed away the thought of the girl to the farthest crevices of his mind and hoped by some gracious miracle, his thought would not stray to Elinora. 

“What in the name of the gods are you doing here? You should be watching over Elinora!” Edward suddenly exclaimed as Daeron entered his chambers and plopped down on his already-made bed. “Calm down; she is in the chapel with our mothers,” Daeron explained, voic muffled as his head was pressed upon the feathered bed. “By gods, it’s quite exhausting! Elinora does not run around, but we have walked along the whole keep thrice! Thrice, Edward! She had no actual place to go; she just walked around for leisure!” Daeron complained and settled further into the bed. 

“She’s not walking for leisure; she’s searching,” Edward explained as he tried to finish writing a scroll that his father ordered him to write. “Searching for what?” Daeron asked, but he quickly came to an answer. “Oh,” was all he could say as he realized Elinora’s sudden fondness for walking was because she was hoping to stumble upon Aemond. “How are you so certain that she was in search of someone?” Daeron asked. 

“Because that certain someone was doing the same thing as well. I was breaking my fast in the hall, and I saw Prince Aemond pass by five times, his eye clearly searching for my sister.” Edward explained. “Does she truly like him, or are we simply paranoid? I know he’s my brother and all… however, I quite find it hard to believe that someone would be fond of him in such a way… especially if it be Elinora.” Edward sighed and shook his head. “It’s quite plain…  I cannot explain it or fathom it, but I believe all our caution is reasonable. And even if she is not truly fond of the prince, we are both aware of how fond your brother is of her.” 

Elinora sat silently and alone in a pew behind her mother and the queen as they listened to a private service since it was proven dangerous for them to venture to the sept. “Seven,” A silky, cold voice suddenly whispered beside her. Elinora was momentarily startled, but as she turned to her side, she suddenly saw Prince Aemond sitting beside her. “What?” She asked, confused by what he had uttered. “I thought you were counting how many times he had said ‘tsk’ during his sermon,” Aemond said but quickly cringed at himself as he had no word of substance to say to Elinora. But he was quick to be absolved from recoiling at himself as a smile came to Elinora’s lips. “No, on the contrary, I was counting how many times he’s been saying ‘hm,’ and I believe it had been five,” 

Aemond bit the insides of his cheeks and nodded as Elinora moved to look onward once more as the Maester who was giving the sermon noticed that the two of them were distracted with one another. “Have you fed the ducks today?” Aemond asked quietly as both of them looked before the alter, discreetly having a conversation. “I have… Daeron joined me. Though I must admit, the ducks were skeptical of him,” She answered and ran her fingers through Peony’s fur. Aemond hummed and gave a small nod. 

Aemond was to speak again, read to utter another nonsensical thing just to keep his conversation with Elinora. However, they both saw as the Queen glanced toward their direction. “Aemond! I— what are you doing here?” Queen Alicent questioned as his son rarely ventured to the sept or any place of worship uncoerced. “Attending the sermon, Mother,” He answered plainly, glancing towards Elinora, who lowered her gaze and focused it upon her kitten that lay on her lap. Queen Alicent was still quite confused, but she gave a nod and returned to look onward. 

“What are you doing here, my prince? If I remember correctly, you mentioned the other day that you have no care for the gods,” Elinora whispered and leaned closer to the prince so that he could hear her. Aemond licked his lips as he followed along with Elinora’s movement and leaned closer to her, her scent invading his senses again. If he were a lesser man, he would give into his urges, bury his nose into her hair, and greedily inhale her scent of lilac and bergamots. 

“Such blasphemous words, surely I was not the one to utter it,” Aemond smirked, and once again, Elinora frowned in confusion as he denied an action that he clearly did. “But— do you not remember? We were in the pond and found the duck’s nest and were having a conversation about faith and how you barely have any,” Elinora explained, trying to make the prince remember. “Once again, my lady, I do not know what you speak of,” Aemond said and smirked further as an adorable pout came to Elinora’s lips. 

“Why do you do that?” Elinora suddenly questioned as she and Prince Aemond began to walk towards the pond once again. “Do what?” He asked as he inched closer to her side, letting their shoulders brush with each step they took. “Deny things you’ve done— they are not necessarily bad things, which is why it is confusing when you deny it,” Aemond felt a grin itching to come to his lips. “Well, first of all, it’s amusing. Watching you try to figure out if you had false memories or not. And secondly…” 

“You’re teasing me,” Elinora said, feeling heat come to her cheeks. “Exactly,” Aemond finally smiled. “That’s mean!” She protested as they descended the stairs, Aemond taking the initiative to hold her arm and assist her as she tripped upon the skirts of her dress. “Not quite… I do not do it out of malice… just amusement.” Aemond explained as they reached the end of the stairs. “So you see me as a jester then?” Elinora questioned, so consumed by how the prince truly viewed her that she did not bother to remove her hold on the prince’s arm, and Aemond did not dare to remove it himself. Letting himself enjoy and indulge in the warmness and touch of Elinora. 

“It is just harmless teases, Elinora. Surely your brother and even Daeron do it to you as well,” Aemond remarked as he led them to a path less traveled towards the pond just so they’d be out of the eyes of interlopers. “So if it was all just teases… and you were only pretending… then it was truly you who gave me Peony!” Elinora exclaimed and moved her kitten to be seen better by the prince. Aemond paused for a moment, not thinking that she would mention that subject once more. 

“Yes,” He finally admitted and felt his heart stutter as a wide smile overcame Elinora’s face— eyes crinkling in joy and an indent on the right corner of her lips appearing. “I knew it! I— I have not properly thanked you for the past days because I was uncertain, but… thank you, my prince— I never wanted anything more than a cat.” Elinora said gratefully as she clutched Peony closer to her chest, Aemond watching as the kitten snuggled itself further to her owner. 

Aemond could only blink as Elinora beamed upon him. The whole of it was overwhelming; with them under the shade of trees, hidden from the eyes of the court, and the image of her with a kitten in her arms and butterflies over her head, Aemond felt a sudden urge to hold her. Not kiss her, but just to simply have her in his arms. Nothing of lust, just something entirely pure. 

“You… you need not thank me, Elinora.” Aemond finally spoke. “No, but I do! You’ve given me something I will cherish and love forever! I could only hope I could offer you the same kindness. How could I ever repay you?” She said, feeling rather guilty. She knew there was kindness and warmth in the prince. She now regretted how she had viewed the prince before. She recoiled in her judgment and could only hope the gods would forgive her for her past opinion of Prince Aemond. 

Aemond was ready to speak no more of it, to tell her that she had no debt owed, but her words — no, the whole her was too tempting. “Very well then, if you’re this insistent… could you perhaps accompany me to the city tonight?” That made the smile falter on Elinora’s lips. “What?” She asked, a bit shocked by his request. 

“The twins’ name day is in two days, and as their uncle, I am expected to bestow them a gift… a gift that I have not yet acquired nor know what it will be. I shall need your help.” Aemond fibbed. He had already gotten the twins their gifts. Saddles for their dragons. But he only wished to be with Elinora, far from the eyes and ears of others in the court, especially her brother and his. Elinora was rendered silent, Aemond clearly seeing apprehension in her eyes. Perhaps he was too forward with his request, but he found little care. 

“Never mind, if you do—“ He began to speak, but Elinora quickly shook her head, her guilt already controlling her as well as her wish to please the prince. “No! I… I’ll help you,” she suddenly said. Aemond raised his brow in question, “You’ll come with me to the city?” Aemond questioned once more. “Yes,” Elinora answered, feeling her palms grow cold in nervousness. “I’ll come with you to the city.” 

When late-night came, Elinora paced in her chambers. Her fingers fiddled with the ends of her hair as she waited for the prince. She turned to the balcony of her chambers, a view of the city and the moon that was nearing its peak. It was far past her usual time of sleep, but even though she wanted to lay her head on the soft feathered pillow, she made a promise to the prince that she must keep. 

“Am I doing the right thing, Peony?” Elinora asked quietly as she petted her pet’s fur for comfort. It was daunting to do such a thing. It was filling her with nerves and guilt, but going back to her word would only fill her with more guilt. 

Elinora abruptly stood up as three knocks sounded out. She need not question who it was because everyone in her life simply walked into her chambers without announcing their presence. Elinora took in three deep breaths before she approached the door, and when it opened, she saw the dark figure of the prince, his face and hair hidden by a hood. “Are you ready?” Prince Aemond questioned quietly as she was dressed in a gown of light blue, a gown that would easily garner attention. 

“I don’t have a hood,” Elinora admitted. “I thought so… here, wear this,” Aemond said and handed her his spare hood, which Elinora quickly took and wore. The girl held her breath as Prince Aemond reached forward and secured the hood to cover her face. She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks as the prince’s fingers brushed the side of her neck, but luckily, the shadow of her hood hid the color blooming on her cheeks. 

“So… do you have anything in mind to gift the prince and princess?” Elinora asked as Aemond led them through the dark halls of the keep. “What?” Aemond questioned, temporarily forgetting the fib he offered her. “For their name day? I thought that is why we are going to the city,” Elinora stated. “Oh,” Ameond suddenly remembered. “Nothing, I truly have no idea what to give the twins.” 

“Where are we going?” Elinora questioned as she thought they would exit through the gates. “Did you truly think that we were going through the gates? Where guards could tattle on us?” Aemond questioned with a smirk as he pushed an inconspicuous wall that led to the secret passages of the keep. 

“There are a series of tunnels in this keep that leads to differing rooms, the shore, and the city,” Aemond explained as he took hold of Elinora’s hand in fear she would get lost in the tunnels. “Oh, we also have the same tunnels in Highgarden… but all of them just lead to the kitchen.” She informed, and through the dark, she could sense a question from the prince. “My ancestor was really fond of eating… especially during the middle of the night,” She explained, “Me and Edward often used to play there, but my father had it sealed off when I was eight because I accidentally got lost,” 

“Well, best stay by my side then. I’d rather not have you lost here and others discover these secret passageways,” Aemond hummed and smirked further as Elinora did as he said and further clung to his side. 

“I’ve never done this before,” Elinora admitted as they finally arrived at the city. Their bodies squished with the crowd, different sights and smells invading and overwhelming her. “Go to the city?” Aemond questioned as he moved his hold to Elinora’s waist to keep her by his side and ensure no danger would come upon her. “Yes, and sneak out without any of my family’s knowledge, leave during the night, and go about unescorted.” She rambled on, her nerves now taking hold of her, and Aemond was quick to sense it. “No one shall ever know,” Aemond reassured. 

“What is that?” Elinora questioned as her eyes caught sight of a group of people dressed in quite garish yet luxurious clothing. “Performers,” Aemond answered plainly, his eye keen for any danger that may arise as they were in the crowded street. Elinora chewed on her cheeks, a request wanting to be uttered, but she feared the prince’s response that she might be overindulging with her newfound glimpse of freedom. “What is it, Elinora?” Prince Aemond questioned, already aware that she wanted to speak of something, but she held herself back. 

“Could we possibly watch? Just for a moment, then we could return to finding the gifts for the twins.” Elinora asked shyly, already expecting the prince to deny her request. But who could truly deny Elinora? It was most certainly not Prince Aemond. 

“Very well, if you wish.” Aemond agreed and felt his heart stutter again as a beaming smile made itself on her lips. It should concern Aemond at how easy she was to please, was she truly that shut off from the world and kept in chains that him just humoring a small request could garner the most breathtaking smile and grateful aura? 

For years, he had been surrounded by courtiers who were given all the lavishness that the world could offer, but none seemed enough to quench their desires and wants. with Elinora… he was positive that you could simply bring her a pebble from the gardens, and she’d appreciate it beyond words and keep that rock in her care until the end of her days. Aemond breathed in deeply, and instead of smelling the rancid smell of the city, he could only smell her scent. Elinora was truly a breath of fresh air in the pollution Aemond had been brought up in. 

“They're quite amusing… perhaps you could have them perform for the prince and princess,” Elinora suggested, and before Aemond could reply, Elinora’s laugh filled his ears and symbolized him that all he could do was savor the laughs that came from her lips. 

When Elinora did not hear the prince’s reply, she ceased her laughs only to see the prince looking upon her intently, making her concious. “Or not— perhaps we should venture to the shops.” She quickly said and tried to be rid of her amusement as it did not coordinate with the deeply serious expression on the prince’s face. 

“No… we could stay— I was just thinking over your suggestion,” Aemond quickly said, not wanting to cut short Elinora’s mirth. Elinora was silent for a moment, forgetting their surroundings as she stared deeply into the prince’s lilac eye. She gave a small nod and returned to face the performers and could only hope that the prince was not simply humoring her. 

“What of toys?” Elinora suggested as they walked along an alley of differing shops to search for gifts for the twins. After Aemond had spoken with the performers, who were shocked to discover that the most mysterious and undoubtedly one of the more standoffish princes of the realm had watched their performance and now wanted them to entertain the court, he finally led Elinora to the shops. “They already have a myriad of toys— most of them are just gathering dust.” 

“Then… clothes? Perhaps a set of them where they could match?” She suggested once more, but the prince only shook his head. “Mother and Helaena had already seen to it that they are clothed in coordinated gowns and tunics.” He responded, and Elinora could only hum, deep in thought. 

“Do they have a specific interest?” Elinora questioned as she earnestly tried to think of a gift for the twins that Aemond had already bought gifts for. “I believe Jaehaera is fond of toying around with the abandoned harp in Helaena’s chambers, and I often see Jaehaerys creating doodles when he is set to learn the histories,” Aemond responded and observed as Elinora’s attention was briefly caught by a seller selling sweets. 

Aemond was quick to take a few coins from his pocket and handed them to the vendor, took a bag of comfits, and silently handed it to Elinora. “Oh, thank you,” She said in joy as she need not utter anything, but Prince Aemond was quick to notice what she wished for. “Should we then get a small harp for Princess Jaehaera and an easel for Prince Jaehaerys?” She questioned and nibbled on a sugar-coated nut and offered some of the sweets to the prince, who denied her offer. 

“Very well then, come, I believe there is a shop that sells music supplies by the end of this street,” Elinora nodded and happily followed the prince as she ate her sweets. “Do you often go here?” Elinora questioned. It was rather a silly question, seeing how well-versed the prince was in the alleys and streets of the city. However, she could not help but ask it because she herself lived in Highgarden but could only account for going to the city five times in her life. 

Aemond was silent for a moment, not wanting to reveal to Elinora the true reason why he would often venture to the polluted and crowded place. “Only business demands me to,” He uttered a half-truth. “What type of business?” Elinora continued to question, genuinely interested in the prince. Aemond felt his jaw clench at her questions because he did not wish to lie to her, but he further did not wish to tell her the truth. “You’re quite inquisitive, why this interest in my business?” Aemond then asked to keep Elinora away from the subject of his ventures to the city. 

However, his question and his uncontrollable tone of coldness quickly undid the progress they had made that day, as Elinora felt she had grown to be a nuisance to the prince. “I apologize, I did not mean to overstep, Your Highness,” Elinora said in remorse, and Aemond balled his fists as he felt that they were nearing retracing old patterns. 

Aemond sighed as they reached the shop. He opened the door for Elinora, who stepped inside and quickly situated herself where they kept the harps, and Aemond could only stand idly by the side as he thought about how to salvage the progress he and Elinora had made. That day was the most natural they had been. Gone was the cold, calloused edge from him, and Elinora no longer shied or cowered away. 

“Is the harp for you, miss?” The old shopkeeper questioned Elinora as she observed the harps they had. “Oh, no… it’s for a little girl,” She answered with a polite smile. “For your daughter, miss?” Elinora could only blink at the question. She remembered Prince Aemond’s advice earlier, that they must not be found and that they must be rid of any indications that they were highborn, so Elinora could only smile and nod. 

“Oh, what joy! I’m guessing it is for her name day, how old is she?” Aemond watched from the door as Elinora humored the shopkeeper and conversed with him a fake life. He watched her fiddle with her hair as the shopkeeper continued to speak, trying to learn more about the hoax of life she tried to sell, and Aemond could not help but be amused. 

There was a clear tell in Elinora when she lied. She could not hold the gaze of anyone, and her fingers would play with the ends of her hair. Twirling and coiling the dark auburn strands repeatedly as if to soothe herself. “So which harp, miss? So I could wrap it up, and you could be on your way,” 

“That one,” Aemond finally announced his presence as he stepped forward and pointed upon a small harp with carvings of flowers and serendipitously, ducks that Elinora had been eyeing since they stepped foot into the shop. “Oh, is he your husband, miss?” The shopkeeper questioned, and Elinora was rendered speechless. Cheeks so red that she was certain that she was the color of a poppy. “Yes,” Aemond answered for her, his heart beating erratically in his chest as he said the simple word. 

“Oh, very well then, I’ll have it wrapped and ready for you, sir.” The shopkeeper said, but Aemond shook his head. “I shall have it picked up later today, but we pay now,” He said, not wanting to carry around a harp in the city streets and most certainly did not wish to reveal that they resided in the Red Keep. “What name shall I have it saved for, sir?” 

“Peony,” Elinora was the one to reply, finally taking hold of herself as she had forced herself to be absolved from the redness on her cheeks. “Peony?” The shopkeeper questioned, and Aemond stilled as he watched the man try to take a good look at his face that he had hidden under the shadow of his hood. “Yes, it’s our family name— here’s the payment. Now, if you would, my wife and I must get back to our daughter. Goodbye,” Aemond hastily said and took hold of Elinora’s hand before rushing out of the shop before their true identities were revealed. 

“Oh gods,” Elinora breathed out, heart racing at the sudden thrill of it all. “You’re quite a good liar,” Aemond stated as he saw that there was turmoil running in the girl’s mind. It was as if she was guilty, but at the same time, she was thrilled at the sudden adventure. “I’ve never had to pretend to be another person before!” Elinora said in excitement, and Aemond bit his tongue as he saw a newfound twinkle in her light jade eyes. “Best get used to it, we still have to acquire Jaehaery’s gift,” Aemond said with a small smile as he and Elinora continued to play pretend that evening with just the two of them, hand in hand, in the streets of Kingslanding away from the eyes of the court. 

Tag List: @sapphirevhagar @dahlias-and-marigolds @shygardengalaxy-blog @m-riaa @summerposie @emerald-jade1

[carasspice]

"Hey boss, do you have a few minutes?" I asked at almost 6.30p.m. and some time after every else had left for the day, my eyes blinked a number of times as I realised how she was dressed. "Oh hell, I'm sorry for intruding."

"Stop shaking Andy, I should be the one to apologise, I don't normally wander around half undressed but I can't get the air-con to work in here. Anyhow, as long as you can put up with me like this come in and take a seat. What did you want to talk to me about?"

"I have no idea, my mind has just left me somewhere. This may be out of order but I can put up with you in lingerie any time. You look fabulous and that bottom ... "

"I should thank you for the compliment but my bottom is what exactly?"

I'd backed myself into a corner, I knew it and so did she. I knew what I was thinking and what I'd love to do with her bottom as well as the rest of her body but considered it safer to keep quiet.

"So what were you going to say about my bottom Andy? Out with it."

Oh hell and that was something else on my mind, my trousers were getting tighter with every word and every second passing by.

"Nothing boss."

"Nothing? I think not." she replied, placed that folder on her desk, turned, stepped towards me and sat on my legs facing me with her arms curled around my neck leaving me to stare directly at her breasts. "I am well aware that many men have fantasies about what they would love to do with a woman's bottom Andy and I assume you are no different. Yes I know what you would love to do with my bottom as well as my pussy. I'm not deaf you know and do hear various comments from you lot and if any of you so much as touch either mine or my secretary's derriere you will be out of here in ten minutes flat. You might like to know that my bottom has been fucked by my boyfriend on occasions as well as the more regular sex life activities and I rather enjoy each and every episode. Oh and my name is either Miss Davenport or the bitch upstairs I gather."

"Yes boss and I apologise."

"You apologise to which one?"

"Oh sorry Miss Davenport, shall I take a look at the air-con now?" My face must have been bright red as I tinkered with the control, cancelled everything and reprogrammed it, it took me maybe five or six minutes but it was working.

"Thank you Andy." she said as I clambered down from the desk only to watch her turn around, bend forward and smack her right cheek. "There you go Andy, fantasise as much as you like but never touch a lady's bottom without an invitation and none other than my boyfriend gets one of those. Please try to remember what you wanted to ask me and I'll be here by 8.15 as always. Goodnight.

xxx

[tiramisuucakeee]

presenting ˙ . ꒷ 🍰 STRAWBERRY GIRL ᝰ.ᐟ fem reader.

@ ! someone asks jungwon why he eats so much strawberries with chocolate, and he let’s them on the story about a girl who loved them, only much more than he ever will

inspired by: ‘she said hey’ from -D4B1- on wttpd

it was a calm sunny day, the streets of seoul were busy with people, families, workers, students. the middle of the year was always a great time to soak up in the sun, as the flowers bloomed all around, in small flowers pots and gardens.

inside a small café, a group of friends were reminiscing their younger days as college students. all of them had works, families, a home to get back to. it was truly nostalgic for them to be reunited in a setting like this. the youngest of them ordered a small treat first, and so they went down the round table, each ordering their own favorite pastry. once the waiter bubbled away to get everything, they were left alone.

the group was chatting, laughing, and overall having a good time when their food and beverages got there. some of them didn't even spare a word before digging in, not forgetting the small feeling of similarity as to when they ate lunch together in university.

then, something happened, niki, now almost 25 but nonetheless still the youngest, scooped up some of jungwon’s food, and instantly reacted against it.

"oh god, you’re still eating this stuff?" he spoke, the semi-munched strawberry still in his mouth, the chocolate making a splash of sugar to the tongue. jake noticed his discomfort, and let out a loud laugh, booming through their table, making everybody aware of the situation.

"did you just-" jungwon looked at his bowl, where a big portion was missing, and he proceeded to deadpan at the nishimura, who looked like a snail that had been fed salt. for some reason, he despised very sugary sweets.

"geez, how can you handle the sugar?" niki shuddered, "i hate strawberries, and here you are, ordering a whole ass whatever-that-is out of it," he then ate some of his own food, pleased.

"it's alright," jungwon shrugged, eating some more, and then leaned back, "i don't mind the sugar," he said “i got used to it, i mean, after all, i haven’t gotten any cavities.” he smiled wholeheartedly.

"you don't mind?" heeseung asked, "do you really like that stuff that much?" he rose his brows at his friend. jungwon crossed his arms, thinking to himself for a second, before answering, "no, no i don't, i actually hated it for a while, until it didn’t matter anymore," he laughed.

his friends looked at themselves with worry etched on their faces, before sunghoon decided to ask. "why do you eat so much strawberries with chocolate then?" he watched as jungwon was still smiling, now looking down at his plate, as if he was reminiscing some far memory.

jungwon glanced up at his friends, seeing all their eyes on him. leaning back further into his comfortable seat, he then spoke, "let me tell you the story about this girl, who loved strawberries,"

˙ . ꒷ CHAPTERS.

1. looked my way

2. just like you

3. falling too fast

4. you’ll have to miss me

5. hurts to be nothing

6. chocolate strawberries

7. right now

@ masterlist

# TAGLIST open !

[love-byers]

"Not Kids Anymore" connection

who ordered more byler music coding??

alright, so the OST song that plays during the byler rain fight is titled "Not Kids Anymore", obviously quoting mike's line "But we're not kids anymore." the line that triggers the song, so the line that changes/emphasizes the tone, is "It's not my fault you don't like girls!". it cuts to will's reaction and the music begins. i know we all know the rain fight by heart, but i'm gonna add the dialogue anyway

Mike: Will, come on. You can't leave, it's raining. Hey, I said I was sorry, alright? It's a cool campaign it's really cool! We're just not in the mood right now.

Will: Yeah, Mike, that's the problem, you guys are never in the mood anymore! You're ruining our party!

Mike: That's not true!

Will: Really? Where's Dustin right now?

Mike: ...

Will: See? You don't know, and you don't even care, and obviously he doesn't either, and I don't blame him! You're destroying everything, and for what? So you can swap spit with some stupid girl?!

Mike: El's not stupid! It's not my fault you don't like girls!

*Not Kids Anymore begins*

Will: ...

Mike: I'm not trying to be a jerk. Okay? But we're not kids anymore. I mean what did you think, really? That we were never gonna get girlfriends? That we were just gonna sit in my basement all day and play games for the rest of our lives?

Will: Yeah. I guess I did. I really did.

*Will gets on his bike and leaves*

Mike: Will. Will! Will come on!

we will come back to this in a moment

the only other time "Not Kids Anymore" has played is in s4 ep1. It plays when lucas dustin and mike are arguing over the basketball championship and hellfire. again i'm gonna show the entire convo just to have full context since it's pretty much all going to be relevant.

Lucas: I don't get the big deal. Just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire to another night.

Dustin: "Just talk to Eddie."

Mike: Why don't you just talk to your coach and get him to move the game?

Dustin: I think that's a great idea, Mike!

Mike: Thank you, Dustin!

Lucas: This is the championship game!

Dustin: This is the end of Eddie's campaign! A semester of adventuring has led to this moment, and we need you!

Mike: Yeah, and the Tigers don't. You've been on the bench all year.

Lucas: That's not the point.

Dustin: Please, arrive at the point.

Lucas: If I get in good with these guys, I'll be in the popular crowd, and then you guys will be too.

Mike: Has it ever occurred to you that we don't want to be popular?

Lucas: So you want to be stuck with the nerds and freaks for three more years?

Dustin: We are nerds and freaks!

Lucas: Yeah, but maybe we don't have to be!

*Not Kids Anymore begins*

Lucas: Look, I'm tired of being bullied. I'm tired of girls laughing at us. I'm tired of feeling like a loser. We came to high school wanting things to be different, right?

*Mike and Dustin nod*

Lucas: So now we have that chance. I skip tonight and that's all out the window. So I'm asking you guys, as a friend, just talk to Eddie, get him to move Hellfire. Come to my game. Please.

you're probably starting to see where i'm going with this lol

before i go into it i want to say that it is undeniable that these scenes are connected, clearly. there are over a hundred other songs in the ST OST albums and they chose this one. there is undoubtedly connections and subtext.

so clearly lucas is saying he is aware of the fact that he is a nerd/freak, but he doesn't want to be. he wants to get in with the popular crowd. hanging out with them and being on the basketball team despite always being on the bench is something he's doing on purpose, a choice he's making, because he wants to be perceived a certain way. he wants to be perceived as cool, as normal.

lucas is skipping out on dnd because he's trying to be normal.

so what's the connection here? is it just that lucas and mike both don't want to play dnd? cause that's not really the case, at least for lucas. he wants to play dnd, he just wants them to move it to a different night so he can go to the game. it's a cool campaign, it's really cool! we're just not in the mood right now.

lets compare some other lines from these two scenes

Yeah, and the Tigers don't. You've been on the bench all year. You're destroying everything, and for what?! So you can swap spit with some stupid girl?!

mike and will are both saying the sacrifice being made is stupid because the action is empty and boring and meaningless.

this also reminds me of that ted quote "You're on the bench, son." obviously talking to/about mike.

you could also look at it as will saying (not literally saying, but a coded way) that he actually needs mike while el does not, clearly, since all they do is make out meanwhile will genuinely loves mike and wants to connect with him. will needs mike. Yeah, and the Tigers don't. You've been on the bench all year.

So you want to be stuck with the nerds and freaks for three more years? That we were just gonna sit in my basement all day and play games for the rest of our lives?

Yeah. I guess I did. I really did. We are nerds and freaks!

i feel like these are kind of self explanatory lol, i can't really think of anything to say about it

i guess the fact that they're both insinuating that this is what will happen to themselves if they don't act. lucas doesn't want to be stuck with the nerds and freaks, and mike doesn't want to be gay lmfao. dnd in mikes basement is canonically a metaphor for will's love for mike, so thats not delusional at all sorry

If I get in good with these guys, I'll be in the popular crowd, and then you guys will be too. What did you think, really? That we were never gonna get girlfriends?

i've always found that mike line interesting. it's not the way someone who is in love talks about their bf/gf. mike didn't fall in love (at first sight), he got a girlfriend. he acquired a girlfriend. saying it like that kind of gives the implication that mike sees his relationship as an action that everyone must take at a certain point in their life, like it's just what you're supposed to do. that's what normal people do.

lucas knows what he is. he's a nerd, he's a freak, but wants to change. he wants to be perceived as cool and normal. and he is purposefully pulling away from his friends to spend time with other cool, normal people which will make him cool and normal too. and he wants his friends to want the same things he does.

Yeah, but maybe we don't have to be! It's not my fault you don't like girls!

these are the lines that trigger the music, so the turning point of the scene, the climax. how are they similar? well, it seems like both of them are acknowledging a choice. lucas is acknowledging the choice of getting in with the popular crowd, even if it means pretending to be someone you're not, a choice he has already made, and a choice he wants dustin and mike to make. soooo it seems like mike is acknowledging the choice of liking girls/dating girls, a choice he has already made, even if it means pretending to be someone you're not, a choice he wants will to make (or is at least acknowledging that will has not made that choice yet, and that it's not mike's fault).

they are both acknowledging the choice to conform.

"It's forced confirming. That's what killing the kids. That's the real monster."

i will also point out the differences in the cinematography of these scenes. the rain fight is an over the shoulder (we can see the back of wills head and his shoulder in the corner) and is closer up than the s4 scene. the s4 scene is warm and colorful while the rain fight is pale and desaturated. that's color grading, which is all done in post production. basically, the rain fight is way more intimate and serious because this is an argument between two people who are in love, meanwhile the s4 scene is an argument between friends.

its also generally interesting that mike is in the both of these scenes, but on opposite sides. in the rain fight he is the one conforming, and in the s4 scene is anti-conformity. so if mike doesn't want to be popular, doesn't care if he's associated with nerds and freaks, proudly deems himself a nerd and freak, what was his deal in s3? easy question, he's queer. next

this parallel, in my opinion, carries over into another scene which i talked about in this post. it all makes a lot of sense tied together!

have a great day byler nation

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Disclaimer: Still the same.

Chapter 25 - 'For You' | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 10.9 k

Layla had left, and with her went the familiar comfort she always brought. You felt a sudden pang of loneliness settle in your chest, even though you weren’t alone. Most of the boys were still there, a few lingering outside, their chatter and laughter filling the air. You leaned up against a chair, watching the group. Your eyes drifted to Jack, and your mind began to race. Layla had planted a seed—how was tonight going to go? Was this your moment to act natural with Trent in front of Jack? Or was there some unspoken rule you hadn’t caught onto yet? It felt strange, like you were walking a tightrope. You didn’t know the plan—didn’t even know if there was a plan. But you felt uneasy, caught between the newness of this dynamic and the familiarity of the people around you. Slowly, you made your way over to Trent. You slipped your hands around his strong bicep, seeking reassurance more than anything else. He looked down at you, and the warm smile that spread across his face made your chest feel lighter, if only for a moment.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured softly, pressing a kiss to your hair. The gesture was natural, instinctive, but it sent a ripple of awareness through you. You wondered what their friend he was talking to thought. You were caught in your own head, drowning in overthinking.  "Everything alright?" Trent's voice pulled you from your thoughts. You turned to see him looking at you earnestly, his expression soft, his eyes full of concern as he took you in. You smiled, nodding.

"Yeah, just said bye to Layla." You explained masking. He pulled you in a little closer, his hand moving to the small of your back. The boys decided to head inside, and Trent took a step to follow them, his hand staying in its place on your lower back. It was a subtle motion, one that spoke volumes about the way he claimed you, even in the smallest of ways. He guided you gently, expecting you to follow. But to Trent’s surprise, you didn’t. You grabbed his hand, halting his movement. He turned back to you, his brows furrowing slightly in question. 

“What’s up, baby?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear, mildly confused why you stopped. You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip as you glanced at Jack across the patio. He was laughing at something Noah said as they walked inside, oblivious to the storm brewing in your mind.

“I don’t know what to do,” you admitted quietly, your eyes searching Trent’s for guidance. Trent’s expression softened immediately. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from your face before cupping your cheek gently. 

“You don’t have to do anything, yeah? Just stay with me. That’s all.” He smirked. And you wanted to but you were anxious. 

“But Jack…” you trailed off, glancing over at your brother again.

“Jack knows now, baby,” Trent said simply, his tone steady. “It’s okay. He might not love it, but he’s okay with it. I promise. He’s just… adjusting, that’s all. It'll take time.” He explained gently. You nodded, though the knot in your stomach didn’t completely ease.

“It just feels… weird. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.” You admitted. Trent leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. 

“You’re not. And if he’s got a problem, he’ll tell me, not you. Alright?” He whispered. You nodded again, exhaling softly as his words began to settle. “C’mon,” Trent said with a small smile, squeezing your hand still entwined with his. “Let’s go inside. I’ll stay close, yeah?” He attempted to step forward again. You appreciated it, but you just wanted another minute alone with him… actually a few more moments sounded a lot better than one and then as you looked at Trent, his tanned skin glowing under the moonlight in only his swimshorts, an idea popped into your head.  

"T..." you cooed softly, your voice dripping with mischief. Your wide, doe-like eyes tried to feign innocence, but the playful smirk on your lips gave you away instantly. Trent looked down at you, his brow raising slightly as his own lips twitched into a knowing grin. 

"I know that look. What do you need, pretty girl?" he teased, stepping closer until there was no space left between you. His hand found its favorite place of the evening, resting possessively on your ass.

"Do you wanna go swimming with me?" you asked, your voice light and sweet. Trent's smile widened into something blinding, his lips curling up, his eyes squinting as his teeth peeked through. It was a signature Trent full smile-the kind that made your heart flutter every time.

"Yeah," he said without hesitation, his hand giving your ass a squeeze. "I'll do anything with you. C'mon." The night had cooled, the garden lights casting a soft glow over the patio and illuminating the still surface of the pool. You stepped in first, the water biting against your warm skin. You shivered but took another step before diving in fully. Trent followed cautiously, dipping one foot in and immediately tensing.

 "Oh my days, baby. Nah, it's too cold, you know," he said, his voice half-laughing as he stopped dead on the first step.

"C'mon, baby! What happened to anything?" you teased, your voice carrying across the water. You floated toward him, the lights reflecting off your wet skin, making it glisten. Trent looked at you, his cheeks dimpling as his smile turned cheeky. 

"Baby... it's cold as shit," he quipped, his eyes flicking down briefly before meeting yours again. He hadn't moved, and at first, you thought he was just being a wuss. But then his gaze dipped again back down to his shorts, a silent explanation, and then it clicked. Your own cheeks flushed slightly, a soft laugh escaping you. 

"Oh..." you murmured, realization dawning. You waded over to the edge of the pool and climbed out, water cascading off your body in shimmering rivulets. Trent's breath hitched slightly, and he reached out instinctively, his big hands finding your waist.

"Cold water and I’ve got you looking like this? Nah, not fair at all," he muttered under his breath, his fingers trailing over your wet skin. He hummed softly, a sound that vibrated between you, his hands warming your chilled body.

"I would've kept you warm. You should've followed me in," you teased, leaning closer.

"Trust me, I had planned to," he murmured, his eyes tracing the droplets of water running down your collarbone. "But this bikini..." He shook his head in disbelief at the way you looked, his hands sliding down to your hips. "It's too much for me and you’re asking me to get in there?" He looked at you pleadingly. You smirked, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth. "Driving me mad tonight, you know?" Trent let out a dramatic sigh, glancing at the pool and then back at you. 

"Always," you replied, stepping back toward the water with a giggle in an attempt to lure him in this time. He watched you with another shake of his head, his resolve crumbling but he pulled your arm back towards him. Trent smirked, his eyes lighting up with a mischievous glint as he nodded toward the hot tub, still covered and untouched at the corner of the garden.

"At least give me a fair playing field here, baby," he teasingly pleaded, his lips curling into that devastatingly smug smile that always made your knees weak. You followed his gaze to the hot tub and then back at him, tilting your head. 

"I don't even know how to turn it on... or take that cover off," you admitted with a small pout. It was true-Jack or one of the boys always dealt with it. The mechanics of the thing were completely foreign to you.

"Baby, baby, baby," Trent drawled, his voice dripping with affection as he walked toward the control unit by the edge of the pool. "You act like I haven't been here a hundred times before. C'mon now." You raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued but unsure of what he was planning. "Do me a favor and unzip that f'me," he added, nodding toward the zipper of the hot tub cover with a cheeky grin. Your lips parted in mock disbelief at the audacity of his request to ask you to do anything, asking you to put in work, but the look on his face was too irresistible. You rolled your eyes playfully before crouching down by the hot tub, reaching for the zipper. Trent's attention flicked back to you, and he couldn't help but smirk as he caught sight of you squatting there, focused on the task. As you slowly unzipped the cover, Trent turned toward the control unit, flicking a few switches like it was second nature. Over his shoulder, he shot you another cheeky smile. "C'mon, now, lift it up," he called out instructions, laughing softly. You grabbed the edge of the cover with one hand, careful not to damage your nails, and gave it a tug. To your surprise, the weight of it didn't budge, and the resistance yanked you forward slightly, forcing a soft gasp from your lips. You stumbled, catching yourself before you fell completely. Your eyes darted up to Trent, who had turned just in time to see your struggle. His laugh was immediate, low and rich.

"It's heavy, T," you whined, your bottom lip rolling out in a pout as you stepped back from the cover. You weren't even trying to hide the puppy-dog stare you were giving him, the kind you'd mastered over the years. Trent's brow lifted, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. This wasn't new. He knew this game-he'd seen it time and time again, in fact he’d played it time and time again. You could easily lift the cover if you wanted to. You worked out, you were strong enough, but one half-hearted attempt followed by that look always had him crumbling.

"Yeah, yeah, alright. Heavy," he muttered a tease with a dramatic eye roll, his smirk never faltering. "So too heavy for my pretty girl?" he teased, crouching down next to you and brushing a strand of wet hair away from your face. You pouted, your bottom lip jutting out slightly.

"You didn't warn me it weighed a ton." You complained. Trent chuckled, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your pouty lips. 

"That's why you've got me, yeah?" He stood back up, grabbing the edge of the cover with one hand. He effortlessly picked up the cover, lifting it with ease and tossing it aside. You watched, amused and a little smug, as the bubbling water beneath came into view.  "Easy," he said, flexing a little just to be cheeky. 

"You're so strong, T," you said with a dramatic swoon, wrapping your arms around his bicep and batting your lashes at him.

"And you're so full of shit," he shot back, his teasing smile breaking into a laugh as he glanced down at you. You giggled, stepping into the hot tub first, the warm water instantly melting away the chill of the night air. You shivered slightly as the steam rose around you, and before you could fully settle, Trent climbed in right after you. His big hands found your waist almost immediately, pulling you back into him. 

"C'mere," he cooed, his voice soft as he shifted you into his lap. "You okay?" You nodded, leaning your head back against his chest, the contrast between the cold night air and the hot water making your body relax completely. "Much nicer, no?" he teased, his cheek brushing against your temple as he smiled down at you.

"Much," you murmured, turning in his lap before your hands sliding over his chest. The slick water ran under your palms, gliding over the hard planes of his pecs. Trent hummed softly, his hands roaming over your hips and thighs beneath the water. His thumbs drew small, lazy circles on your skin, his touch making you feel like the only person in the world. You were now facing him, your eyes meeting his. His gaze was warm and heavy, his smile soft but full of something deeper. You leaned forward, brushing your lips against his in a slow, tender kiss that spoke more than words ever could. "Better now?" you asked quietly, your fingers tracing the curve of his jaw as you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes.

"Always better with you," he murmured, his hands tightening slightly on your waist as he kissed you again, this time with a little more heat. The bubbling water swirled around you, but it was nothing compared to the way Trent made you feel-completely and utterly adored. You straddled Trent's lap, the warm water bubbling around you as you locked eyes with him. His hands moved slowly, deliberately, gliding over your waist and thighs under the water. Every touch sent little sparks through your skin, leaving you completely breathless. "Look so sexy, baby," he whispered, his voice low and rich as his lips pressed against your jaw. He kissed his way to your ear, nibbling on your earlobe and pulling it gently between his teeth. Your breath hitched, a quiet gasp escaping your lips as heat flooded your body. Your hands draped around his shoulders, your fingers tracing slow circles on the back of his neck as you arched into him. Trent's kisses trailed down your neck, lingering on your collarbone before moving lower, his lips leaving a path of fire as he kissed your damp skin. "You were killing me today," he murmured against you, his breath warm and teasing. He pressed his lips just above the curve of your bikini top, his hands sliding up your sides to settle just under your chest. "I really, really hate this," he mumbled, pushing the triangles of fabric aside to reveal your bare skin. "About time you take it off f’me, yeah?" Your heart pounded as his thumbs brushed over your exposed nipples, making you whimper softly. You nodded, your hands trembling slightly as you reached behind your neck to untie the top.

"All the way off," you hummed, letting the material fall away and float aimlessly in the bubbling water. Trent's gaze darkened, his eyes locking on your bare chest as his thumbs continued to tease you, his touch light but electrifying.

"Such a good girl," he whispered, his voice a little raspier now. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, searing kiss that made your toes curl. His hands roamed freely now, his palms sliding up your back and pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with an intensity that left you breathless. You moaned softly into his mouth, your fingers threading through his damp curls at the top of his head as the heat between you grew. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word from Trent made the world outside the hot tub melt away, leaving only the two of you lost in each other. He rolled your nipples in his fingers, pinching them ever so slightly now and then to make you squirm.

“T, I want you.” You whimpered, desperate for more of him. Even without Trent touching your pussy, you were completely a mess for him. You didn’t need foreplay tonight.   

“I got you, baby.” He whispered. His voice low, only for you, padded only by the sound of the bubbles. His hand slipped under the water and pulled the string of your bikini bottoms. You were completely naked for him perched on his lap. Trent took his time kissing your neck, making sure you knew how perfect you were with each kiss. He snuck one hand under you. You gasped into his mouth, his kiss muffling the noise. Slightly and subconsciously you began to grind against his hand.

“Please, fuck me.” You begged. It was like when he turned on the hot tub, he turned your switches on along with it. It didn’t take long. A bit of teasing from Trent, your hands eager to get to him and suddenly, you were sinking down on his cock. You gasped as a mixture of pleasure and pain washed over you. Trent was big, and you could feel every inch of him stretching you, claiming you as his own. You moved at a torturously slow rate. You wanted to feel him. Trent’s breath hitched reveling in how you felt around him. He’d never get over it. It was special. It was perfect every time.  You could barely keep your head up with the pleasure and stretch. You dropped your head, laying in the crook of Trent’s neck. You bit down on his sensitive skin with heavy breaths as he filled you to the hilt.

“So good f’me baby. Feel so fucking good. This pussy’s perfect.” Trent babbled, biting on your ear lobe as you began to ride him. You moaned as you created the perfect rhythm, you didn’t have the consciousness for it at the moment, but you were pretty sure any of the boys remotely near the windows inside would’ve been able to hear you two but you wouldn’t have cared. Trent certainly didn’t, it felt too good, your brains fogged by the rising steam in the hot tub and eachother.   

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You whined, clenching tighter around him, eliciting a sinful groan from him. Trent was hypnotized by your body as you began to ride him. You shut your eyes tight with your mouth agape as your tits bounced. The sight of you falling a part on him in the water was enough to make him cum. You flashed your eyes up to look at him in desperation. The look in your eyes made Trent tense again. His big hands moved to palm your ass, squeezing it and kneading it beneath the water. You squeezed your pussy tighter around him feeling him twitch inside you.

"That's it, take all of me, baby. Doing do good," he grunted, his voice filled with primal desire as his length slid in and out of you. "Fuck! You're so tight around me, baby. I love seeing you like this." Trent’s eyes were lit up completely engrossed at the sight of you, wet, desperate, and drenched in moonlight.  You moaned, your body responding to his. The pleasure was intense, and you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge. The hot water lapped at your bodies, adding a sensual touch to the roughness of his possession. Trent's hands held you firmly, his fingers digging into your ass as he guided your movements, his hips meeting yours half way, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Trent's fingers found your sensitive clit, desperate to push you. He began to rub it in firm circles, his touch successfully sending you over the edge. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as pleasure coursed through you.

"Fuck, fuck! T! I’m cumming.” You whined, with a pout unable to stop your high from crashing over you.  Your body shook as the waves of pleasure consumed you. Trent's thrusts became more urgent, and you knew he was close to his own release. His eyes were wild with passion, and he leaned down to capture your lips in a hungry kiss. As your tongues danced, you could taste the heat of his desire. Trent's kiss was demanding, possessive, and it only added to the intensity of the moment. He broke the kiss, his breath coming in short pants as he stared into your eyes.

“That’s it, I got you, baby,” he whispered, his voice filled with raw need. You caught his lips curve into a soft smile before your eyes fluttered closed. You moaned his name again and again. “Cum for me one more time. Just relax, pretty girl. Cum for me.” His words vibrated against you. You nodded, your heart pounding in anticipation. Trent's dominance and his desire to claim you completely were exactly what you craved. 

“T…” You whimpered. You held onto him tightly, your nails digging into his broad shoulders as you felt his cock twitch inside you. You felt white hot pleasure crashed over you. A symphony of whines flowed out of you with every bounce on his cock as he drew out another orgasm.

”Good girl. Fuck baby, squeezing me so tight.” He grunted torn between not wanting this to stop and the undeniable physical urge to finish. You could only manage another whine, too focused on the slow drag of his cock, you could feel every hard vein and ridge of it slowly fucking into you.

“Please.” It came out as a whisper, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock, the friction of his solid stomach against your clit under the water as you grinded against him. 

“I gotcha, gonna cum, yeah? I’m gonna cum. Fuck, baby. You’re fucking perfect, your pussy’s so perfect for me, made for my cock.” Trent spoke between heaving breaths as his fingers dug into your skin and his head falling into your tits, as he pushed his hips up one last time before he spilled into your tight heat. Trent's body stiffened as you felt his hot cum filling you, his release triggering another wave of pleasure in your sensitive pussy. Trent rolled his eyes at the way you gently moved your hips against his to help him ride out his high.  “Oh my god, Y/N.”  He groaned as you clenched around him. You didn’t want him to pull out yet. You gripped your fingers on his hair and massaged his scalp with your nails, causing Trent to hum in contentment, whilst his hands caressed your back in soothing motions. “My good fucking girl. Hmm? So fucking sexy.” He whispered as he pulled you tight to his chest. 

You stayed like that for what felt like forever, the world outside of the hot tub slipping away entirely; unable to separate, unable to pull your body off his, and Trent unable to let you go either.  Trent’s hands never left your body, one arm wrapped securely around your waist, the other caressing your thigh under the water. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, feeling safe, warm, and utterly content in his hold. His fingers tracing lazy circles along your skin, grounding you further with each gentle motion.

“I love you,” you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you so much, pretty girl,” he replied, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. His voice was low, tender, and filled with a kind of reassurance that made your heart ache. You turned your head slightly, looking up at him. His dark eyes gazed back at you with so much warmth, and you couldn’t help but lean up to capture his lips in a soft, lingering kiss. He hummed against your mouth, a deep sound of contentment that vibrated through your chest. But the moment was shattered by the loud laughter echoing from inside the house, pulling you both back to reality. Your cheeks flushed as you realized how long you’d been wrapped up in each other. You looked at him and he smiled realizing that it was time to go.

“Whoops!” You giggled with a shy smile, grabbing your bikini from the tiling besides the hot tub behind Trent. Trent let out a small chuckle, his thumb brushing against your hip. 

“You sure you want to put that on?” He asked you with a cheeky grin as his chest still rapidly rose and fell, knackered after sex that felt more like a workout. 

“Do you want me to go inside like this?” You raised your brow teasingly as you tied the side of your bikini bottom back on. Trent laughed breathily. He reached out to you and pulled you into him.

“Nah. When you’re like this, you’re just for me.” He whispered, pressing his nose against yours. You nodded hesitantly. A part of you recalled Josh saying those very words, using them to gaslight you, and yet when Trent said it, it felt different. 

“Just for you?” You asked softly and inquisitively, your voice barely above a whisper. You prayed he would be nothing like Josh. When Josh said it, it meant, you only were for him, yet he could still do as he pleased, aka see other girls. Trent's words hung in the air, their weight undeniable. A part of you felt vulnerable asking such a question, afraid of the answer, of what it could mean. Josh's words from the past haunted you, a constant reminder of control disguised as affection. But Trent-he wasn't Josh.

"Yeah, just for me," Trent said firmly, his voice gentle but unwavering. He ran his hands purposefully over your damp skin, tracing the curves of your waist like he was memorizing every inch of you. "This is private—me and you. No one else. No one gets to see you like this but me." His gaze locked onto yours, dark and steady, filled with something raw and unspoken. He paused, his thumbs brushing over your hips as if grounding you. "This body's sacred. And as long as you’re in it,” He smirked hoping you’d maybe crack a smile at a little joke but you were stoic, terrified to trust him. “I'll take care of you. Always." He reminded you. 

"Oh..." you whimpered, your throat tightening as the sincerity of his words wrapped around you like a warm blanket. It wasn't possessive; it wasn't controlling. It was reverence-something you weren't used to but craved deeply. You couldn't help the tear that slipped down your cheek, overwhelmed by the difference. "You mean that?" you asked shakily, needing to hear it again, to be reassured.

"I mean it,' he said, his voice gentle but firm. He cupped your face, his fingers warm against your cheeks. "It's me and you, baby. Just us. I've got you." The sincerity in his eyes made you feel like the safest person in the world. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, burying your face into the curve of his shoulder. He pulled you in even closer, his large hands sliding up your back, holding you as if he never wanted to let go. You let out a shaky breath, finally finding the courage to let the moment soothe the part of you that had doubted. 

"Okay," you murmured against his skin.

“And I’m just for you. You’re the only one that gets me, pretty girl. Gets my attention, gets me to lift hot tub covers off, gets me to cuddle during films, gets me to kiss goodnight, you name it. Only you get it. Only you.” He told you earnestly. Your eyes got a bit glossy so Trent paused. He sympathetically smiled at you. “That alright with you?” He asked patiently, knowing this wasn’t easy. 

 "I like it that way. Just us." You weakly told him. Trent pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt your chin up so you were looking at him again. His thumb brushed against your jaw before he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

"Good. It's not gonna be any other way." He smirked. You nodded, smiling softly. 

"So... bikini on?" you asked with a cheeky grin, breaking the moment's intensity.

"Till I get you in bed, yeah," Trent teased, his lips twitching into that signature smile. His hands moved to your waist again, giving you a playful squeeze. "But just remember-only me, alright? Don't want all the other lads getting jealous." He cooed. You giggled, draping your arms around him tighter, feeling lighter than you had in weeks.

"Only you," you promised, letting yourself believe in the love he was offering, trusting in the safety of his words. As you buried your face into Trent’s neck, his arms tightened around you protectively, the heat from the hot tub lingering on your skin. 

“I mean it, you know,” he murmured softly, his breath warm against your temple. “This is our world, just me and you. No one else matters when I have you like this.” He confessed. You let out a shaky breath, your heart swelling at his words. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever had this,” you whispered against his neck, your voice trembling slightly. “Someone who just…wants me, for me. I didn’t think I could have this.” You shyly told him. Trent leaned back slightly to look at you, his hands cradling your face. 

“You've always had me. And that’s all I’ve ever wanted, Y/N,” he said earnestly, his deep brown eyes locked onto yours. “You don’t have to be scared, yeah? I’ll never make you feel like you’re not enough. Never. Because you are a fucking dream to me. I want you, every little bit.” He whispered kissing your skin again and again, emphasizing that he wanted every bit. You nodded slowly, your tears threatening to spill again. But this time, they weren’t tears of pain or fear—they were tears of gratitude, of relief. You hadn’t felt this safe in someone’s arms… ever.

“C’mon, pretty girl” Trent whispered, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Let’s get inside before I change my mind about letting you put that bikini back on.” He smirked, trying to lighten the mood, and you couldn’t help but giggle softly, wiping at your eyes.

“Fine, but you’re carrying me, there are always slugs by the pool at night this late,” you teasingly instructed, leaning back into him, your hands lacing around his neck. He rolled his eyes with a little laugh you wished you could bottle and keep forever.

“Yeah, yeah, so it’s the slugs now, huh?” He smiled at you. You rolled your bottom lip pleadingly. “Do whatever you want. I always will,” he said, scooping you up effortlessly in the hot tub. He stood up as your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, the cool night air biting at your skin as he stepped out of the hot tub, with you in his arms. He carried you inside, his chest rising and falling steadily against you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed things could actually be okay.

Trent hesitated, his hand lingering on the small of your back as you both quietly slipped into the house. He looked down at you, his brow furrowed slightly, caught in a silent debate.

“Hey, baby. Can I just go grab a water quick? Then I’ll meet you up there,” he murmured softly, his voice gentle but distracted. You tilted your head at him, seeing right through his attempt to sidestep the real issue. 

“You can go ask him, T,” you said quietly, your pout making it impossible for him to avoid your gaze. You were nervous about tonight as well, but you could tell Trent felt like he needed to do things right. That he was walking somehow on an even thinner tightrope. That if there was a misstep, he would feel at fault. It was sweet, you liked knowing he cared but you also felt a bit guilty. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced toward the hallway that led to the cinema, where he knew Jack was still sitting with Noah. He didn’t want to overstep, even if the thought of not being by your side tonight was inconceivable. Even if Jack said no, he knew he was weak for you, that he'd find a way to be with you and that's exactly why he needed to go above board tonight.

“Baby…” he started, his tone unsure. You leaned into him, your arms wrapping around his waist as you looked up at him. Trent was going to stay in your room no matter what, but he also didn’t want to go to bed feeling like a snake either. 

“As long as you are going to come back and sleep with me, T, go. I know you, I know you want to do it right.” You smiled at him sympathetically. “You’re the sweetest, baby.” You cooed softly. “So if it’s bothering you, you can go talk it over with your best friend,” you said softly, stroking your fingers over his back in slow, soothing circles. Trent let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. 

“You know me too well, pretty girl,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I just… I don’t want to be a dick about it, yeah? I know this is all new for him, for everyone.” He unnecessarily explained. You nodded, understanding. 

“He’ll get it. He knows how much you mean to me. How much I love you.” You told him, although you were saying it mostly to convince yourself that Jack would understand. Trent hummed, leaning his forehead against yours for a moment before stepping back. 

“Alright, wait for me upstairs, please. Gotta go tell your brother how much I love you.” He smirked. You smiled, brushing a quick kiss over his lips before turning to head up the stairs.  

Trent made his way into the cinema room, his heart pounding slightly. Jack and Noah were mid-conversation, a half-empty beer in front of each of them. They both looked up as Trent stepped into the room, and Jack raised an eyebrow, already guessing where this was going.

“Alright, mate?” Jack asked, leaning back in his chair, pausing the show on the screen. Trent nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets as he stood awkwardly in the doorway. 

“Yeah, bro…” Trent said softly as he stepped into the dimly lit room. Jack hadn’t gone to bed yet—he couldn’t, he was afraid of what he might hear if he were to go up before you. So to save himself, he sacrificed sleep and instead roped Noah into a marathon of a show he knew he’d stay awake for. They were sitting there, the glow of the now paused screen illuminating their faces. Jack was patient, he had subconsciously hoped this would be Trent’s move tonight, getting his approval, so he waited, but Noah immediately nodded his head, cueing Trent to say something. Trent ran a hand over his face attempting to compose himself after Noah's nudge. “Just wanted to, erm… check in.” Trent spoke vaguely. Noah smirked, taking a sip of his beer and leaning back to watch the exchange unfold.

“Check in?” Jack repeated, his brow furrowing slightly. “She okay?” Jack asked, concern evident in his voice. His thoughts immediately jumped to you—had you gotten upset again? Why was Trent being so weird?

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Trent nodded quickly, easing Jack’s worry. “She’s fine.” But the way Trent shifted nervously on his feet, fidgeting slightly with his hands, didn’t go unnoticed. Jack’s brows furrowed. 

“Are you, bro?” he asked, with a subtle smile. It was soft though, not teasing. Jack was confused by the sudden change in Trent’s demeanor. 

“Uh…” Trent hesitated, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Noah grinned enjoying this. He wasn't sure he had seen Trent this awkward since they were little boys. “No, I guess. I just wanted to, uh, make sure it’s cool with you if I’m in her room tonight.” The words came out awkwardly, and Trent’s usual calm and confident demeanor seemed to falter. He was clearly uneasy, and Jack picked up on it instantly. Jack leaned back in his seat, smirking a little. 

“Trentski, I’m not her dad,” he teased, trying to lighten the mood. Noah laughed. He had comments and jokes at the ready but he could feel Trent’s nerves radiating off him. So he bit his tongue. But when Trent didn’t laugh, Jack realized he wasn’t joking around. He sighed, sitting up straighter. He knew what this was about, he understood it. As much as he didn’t want to be, Jack had been like a parental figure to you in a lot of ways. It wasn’t just about Trent staying in your room—it was about respect, about boundaries, and about making sure this wasn’t going to mess up the delicate balance of their lives. He appreciated Trent for acknowledging it, even if it stayed just under the surface. Jack took a deep breath before speaking again. “Mate, it’s fine. I actually will kill you if I hear anything but… it’s fine. If it’s you, it’s all good. You’ve got her.” Jack explained earnestly, accepting the fate that his best mate would be up in his little sister’s room. At least it was Trent, he tried to rationalize with himself.

“Yeah, just, you know…” Trent trailed off, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Trent nodded once over taking in what Jack had said, visibly relieved but still fidgeting. “Mate, I just didn’t want you to feel like I’ve dropped caring about you or us because I’m with her,” he said earnestly. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you’ve lost me or something.” Trent admitted. Jack paused at that. He hadn’t expected Trent to say something like that, and it hit him harder than he anticipated. He valued that more than he was willing to vocalize tonight so he shoved the unexpected emotion down, taking a swig of his beer to buy himself a second.

“Nah, bro. I appreciate it,” Jack said, his voice genuine. “We’re cool. Like I said, I just don’t want to hear it. Trust me, I know it’s happening.” He forced a laugh, trying to mask how weird it still was for him to think about Trent and you together. Noah chuckled first, Trent quick to follow, his shoulders relaxing a bit more. 

“Thanks, mate. Love you,” he said, leaning down to dap Jack up, their handshake turning into a brief hug.

“All good. Love you, bro,” Jack said, shaking his head as Trent walked out. He stayed seated for a moment longer, staring at the screen but not really watching it. He appreciated Trent coming down to ask—it showed he cared. But still, Jack wasn’t quite sure how he’d survive a whole summer of this, let alone a lifetime without losing his mind. Noah raised his brows with a smug smirk leaning back in his chair suppressing a laugh. Jack heard the stifled chuckle. “Noah, say one fucking thing…” Jack threatened him knowing there were a million teasing remarks at the ready. Noah just raised his hands in innocence with a cheeky giggle thinking the whole thing was quite amusing. 

When Trent opened the door, you were already curled up in bed, propped against a pile of pillows, the glow of your bedside lamp casting a warm light on your features. You smiled up at him as he stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind him.

“All sorted,” he murmured, his voice low as he crossed the room, his eyes softening the moment they landed on you.

“Did you get bestie’s approval?” you teased, your lips curling into a sly grin. You sat up, watching him as he made his way to your bed. “Told you it’d be fine,” you added with a knowing smirk. Trent rolled his eyes playfully, crouching slightly as he rested his hands on the edge of the bed. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, his tone laced with fondness. He leaned forward to press a kiss to your hair, the familiar gesture sending a wave of warmth through you.

“I still have to shower….” you murmured, your voice taking on a teasing lilt. Your eyes lit up with faux innocence as you smirked up at him. “But I was waiting for you.” Trent raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into an amused grin. 

“Nah, see, you’re gonna get me in trouble!” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Please,” you giggled, reaching out to grab his arms, tugging at him playfully. 

“Ah, yeah, fine, only because you waited for me,” he teased, sarcasm dripping from his words as he let you pull him closer. You flashed him a beaming smile, your laughter filling the room. “C’mon, pretty girl,” he said with a low laugh, bending down to scoop you up into his arms effortlessly. You squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you toward the ensuite. His grip on you was secure, his warmth seeping into your skin as you tucked your face into the crook of his neck.

“Shhh, I’m serious, gonna get me in trouble,” he murmured, his lips curled into a smile brushed against your temple.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get into maybe just a little bit of trouble tonight with me, baby?” You giggled, pressing a kiss to his jaw. He chuckled softly, shaking his head, his chest vibrating against yours as he pushed the bathroom door open with his foot. 

“Fucks sake,” he laughed, setting you down gently on the cool tiles. Trent knew he was cooked, he couldn't resist you. He’d spent too many years dreaming of getting invited up, he wasn’t going to waste it now. 

The morning light spilled softly through your curtains, bathing the room in a warm glow. You stirred awake to the sound of steady, rhythmic breathing and the comforting weight of Trent’s arm draped around your waist. His chest rose and fell against your cheek, and you could feel the heat of his body pressed into yours. You blinked a few times, adjusting to the light, and let out a quiet sigh. The night before had been so full of emotion, laughter, and a bit of chaos, but here, in the stillness of your room, it was just the two of you. Trent’s presence was grounding, and you found yourself tracing lazy patterns on his forearm with your nails, smiling faintly at how calm he looked in his sleep. You tilted your head slightly, catching a glimpse of his face. His hair was messy and his lips were slightly parted as he slept. He looked peaceful, boyish almost, and it made your heart ache in the best way. The soft movement of your fingers must have stirred him because Trent let out a low hum, his arm tightening around your waist. 

“Mmm… morning, pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice deep and rough from sleep. You smiled at the sound, nuzzling your face against his chest. 

“Morning,” you whispered back, your voice soft and sweet. Trent shifted slightly, pressing his lips to the top of your head in a lazy kiss. 

“How long have you been up?” he asked, his hand slipping under the hem of his shirt you nicked last night after a cheeky shared shower to rest on the warm skin of your stomach.

“Not long,” you replied, your voice still hushed. “Just… thinking.” You cooed.

“Thinking about what, baby?” he asked, his voice curious but gentle as his fingers traced small circles on your skin.

“About how nice this feels,” you admitted shyly, your cheeks warming. Trent chuckled softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Excited for breakfast with your bestie?” You hummed with a sleepy soft giggle. 

“Breakfast with you? Yeah, always.” Trent cooed, rubbing his hands up and down your back. His voice was quieter now, more sincere. You shifted slightly in his arms to look at him, his face still relaxed but his brown eyes now focused entirely on you.

“No.” You giggled. “Jack, baby,” you murmured, reminding Trent as your fingers brushing against his jawline. You were teasing him about waking up at your house, with your brother aka his best friend just down the hall. He smiled with a shake of the head, leaning down to kiss your forehead before pulling you closer against him, his legs tangling with yours under the blanket. 

“Eh, not interested, got you.” He whispered, cupping your cheek and tilting your face upwards to kiss your sleepy pouty lips. 

“I’m telling him you said that.” You giggled again teasing him. You began to pretend as if you were going to get out of bed to go tell Jack but he held you down to him playfully.  

“Nah, Nah, can’t do that. Shhh!” He hushed you with a cheeky quiet laugh.  The room filled with soft laughter as you squirmed playfully against Trent’s hold. His deep chuckles vibrated through his chest, and you couldn’t help but laugh with him despite your faux protests. 

“What, baby?” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him, your lips curling into a smirk with a furrowed brow. Trent pulled you roughly tighter into him until your faces were mere inches apart. 

“Shhh, need you to be quiet.” He hushed you with a smile, kissing you, wrapping his arms tighter around you, refusing to let you move. You shook your head in defiance. "My best friend told me he’d kill me if he heard us.”  Trent admitted with a sly grin. He laughed a little seeing your cheeky smile unable to hold it in.  He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a featherlight kiss. “So shhh,” he whispered again, his tone playful. You arched a brow, mischief dancing in your eyes. 

“Oh, so you’re worried about noise? I think I remember someone who wasn’t so quiet last night in the shower,” you teased, your voice low but full of cheek. Trent’s ears turned a faint shade of pink as he chuckled, shaking his head.

 “Alright, alright, but that’s on you, not me,” he muttered. Your jaw slacked offended he’d try to place the blame on you. He smiled loving that he knew exactly how to get under your skin. “Hey, pretty girl, you’re the one who makes me feel that good, baby. Not my fault and to be honest, I’d rather face a right hook from Jack than give you up last night.” He smirked with some cheek.

“Hmm,” you hummed sarcastically with a roll of the eyes, acting as if you didn’t believe him. You tried to roll away once more out of his arms.

“Nah, serious!” He yelped playful yet desperate to get you to believe him. Trent’s hands found your waist, his strong grip easily pinning you back down against his chest before you could make your escape. He got closer to you, dropping his forehead to rest against yours. “This fucking pussy has me a complete mess. Do anything to have more of you. I need you, baby.” He whispered, dropping his voice and octave lower as his lips ghosted over yours. 

“Wow.” You giggled at the serious look on his face. “Well maybe I should make sure your old besties know they’ve been replaced, all because you just like getting your dick wet.” You teased, your lips brushing over his as you spoke. Trent kissed his teeth. 

“Nah, c’mere. You know you’re more than that to me.” His big hand came up and grabbed the back of your neck, forcing you into a messy kiss. You pulled away with a stupid grin and a giggle. “You know I love you, just being with you, and seeing that smile.” Trent shot you the most dangerous smile in return. It was conniving and mocking and beautiful. Your heart faltered at how pretty he was but also how much he genuinely care about you. That you weren't just a body to him. Trent giggled before he spoke again. The childish little boy laugh you'd heard your whole life. You raised your brows awaiting his next words because clearly he thought they were funny. “But it also doesn't hurt if I get to have my hands on this perfect body, take all these clothes off, have my lips all over you, be inside that pretty pussy, seeing you whining for me, making you cum over and over… That’s not so bad, little bit more than getting my dick wet, but… If you ever want to let me just get my dick wet, I won’t stop ya.” He smirked smugly. Your eyes widened with faux offense.

“So I should tell them that instead?” You asked teasingly.

“Not a chance, pretty girl,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours as his fingers tickled your sides, earning a squeal from you. You wiggled and giggled against him, completely wrapped in his hold.

“Okay! Okay! T! Stop, I won’t tell them! Baby!!” you finally cried out between laughs, breathless and flushed.

“Good,” Trent said with a satisfied smirk, his hands stilling on your waist. He looked at you for a moment, his smile softening as his thumb brushed over your cheek. “Because I don’t care about them. Just want to be with you.” He confessed. Your laughter quieted as your heart melted at his words. You leaned down, kissing him softly, your fingers tangling in his curls. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute, baby,” you murmured against his lips.

“And I’m so lucky you love me, pretty girl,” he whispered back, his voice full of affection, pulling you back down into his arms as the morning sun filtered through your curtains. You hummed as you nestled into him, letting his words and the steady rhythm of his breathing soothe you. For a moment, the world outside didn’t matter—it was just you and Trent, cocooned in the warmth of each other. 

“T!” you squealed, sprinting down the stairs, your laugh echoing through the house as Trent chased after you, his fingers darting out to pinch your side. The silly morning you were having with him, filled with cheeky jokes, and sloppy kisses didn’t stay confined to your bedroom. You hadn't dropped the idea of telling Noah and Jack you'd replaced them as Trent's best friend.

“Baby! Don’t throw me under the bus, hmm?” Trent yelped, catching you at the bottom of the stairs. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, effortlessly lifting you off the ground. You squirmed in his hold, your laughter spilling out as he spun you around like a rag doll. “C’mere, pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing as he pressed kisses to your neck, playfully, his stubble tickling your skin.

In the kitchen, Noah and Jack exchanged looks over their mugs of coffee, the sound of your giggles and Trent’s playful hums breaking the morning’s quiet. Noah’s smirk grew wide, the corner of his mouth twitching as he tried to suppress a comment. Jack, on the other hand, merely shook his head, his lips pressed into a tight line. You and Trent attempted to compose yourselves as you entered the kitchen, both of you flushed from laughing. 

“Do you want eggs, baby?” you asked, your voice soft and affectionate, the pet name rolling off your tongue like it was second nature. Noah’s smirk turned into a full-blown grin at the exchange, his eyes flicking between the two of you like he was watching his favorite sitcom. 

“Baby now, huh, Trenty?” he teased under his breath, just loud enough for you all to hear. You ignored him, focusing instead on Trent, who had just walked over to dap up Noah and Jack.

“Yes, please,” he answered, his voice warm and easy as he continued his path around the kitchen island back to move to stand behind you. Trent’s hands found their place on your waist, pulling you close so your back was flush against his chest.  “You know you’re the best, pretty girl?” His lips brushed the shell of your ear as he whispered. You smiled, leaning into him as his big hands splayed across your stomach, his fingers flexing gently against the fabric of his shirt you were still in. Something definitely not lost on anyone in the kitchen. Jack let out an exaggerated groan, setting his coffee mug down with a thud. 

“This much? Seriously, this early?” Jack asked, watching you and Trent.

“Let them live, Jacky boy,” Noah laughed, leaning back in his chair with a shake of his head enjoying watching Jack squirm. You turned to glance at Jack over your shoulder, an innocent smile gracing your lips. 

“We’re not doing anything, Jack!” you protested, though the way Trent’s lips skimmed the side of your neck as you spoke said otherwise.

“Not doing anything, huh?” Jack shot back, raising an eyebrow nodding at Trent with a teasing grin. “Maybe try keeping your hands to yourselves for five minutes, or giving eachother even an inch of space, yeah?” He gave you a feigned look of disgust watching Trent’s big hands stay on your body, unmoved by his words. Trent chuckled against your skin, his arms tightening around you protectively. 

“Can’t make any promises, mate,” he quipped, kissing the spot just behind your ear as if to prove a point. Jack groaned again, muttering something under his breath about ‘never-ending,’ while Noah just laughed, shaking his head again at the whole ordeal.

“Also, I wouldn’t mind eggs either, just saying…” Noah eventually chirped, leaning back in his chair with a smirk watching you begin to make Trent’s.

“Nah, mate, we’re not ‘baby,’” Jack quipped, piling on the teasing. “I don’t think we’re getting breakfast.” You let out a small giggle, secretly relieved by the playful banter. As long as it wasn’t awkward tension, you could handle the teasing.

“Tough work, mate, getting ‘baby’ status,” Trent shot back, his lips quirking into a smug grin. “I won’t lie, but the perks… let me tell you...” He cheekily left the statement open ended as he kissed your temple for emphasis before turning back to Jack and Noah with a look. Noah caught the tone and immediately smirked, reading between the lines. 

“Ah, yeah, we know the perks, don’t we, Jack?” Noah chuckled. Jack made an exaggerated, grossed-out face, covering his eyes. 

“Don’t even start, mate. No one needs that mental image.” He scoffed with a teasing smile knowing that joking was the only way this would ever be normal. Joking was a fundamental part of their friendship, and with their friendship and you, humor was a lifeline.  

“Nah, hold on,” Trent laughed, waving his hands defensively. “That’s not what I meant—just breakfast!” He attempted to defend himself. Like second nature, you opted not to help him out, you chimed in with a cheeky grin.

“I know, comes with taking that number one best friend spot too, huh?” You giggled. Trent’s jaw dropped at your betrayal, his hands quick to come playfully squeeze your sides, dragging you into him.

“Nah, can’t believe you just sold me out like that!” He yelped, wrapping his arms around you so tightly, you couldn’t even struggle. “Baby!” He pleaded, annoyed you just did that in front of his best mates. Jack and Noah burst into laughter seeing Trent get called out for being a simp. Years of friendship be damned, it was always great to see Trent whine about a joke.

“Wow, bro! Took you one movie night to drop Noah and I? You fucking piece of shit! ” Jack said through his cackles. Even you couldn’t help giggling, your face tucked into Trent’s chest as he shook his head in disbelief.

“Awh, Trenty,” Noah teased, clearly enjoying himself. “Even your girl’s selling you out, bro. That’s tough.” He mocked him.  Trent let out an exaggerated groan but couldn’t hide the smile on his face. 

“Alright, alright, fuck off. Come on, lads. It’s different.” He smiled shyly realizing you were in fact his best friend, he just didn’t want to get into the semantics of what made you a different kind of best friend compared to the two boys. Noah and Jack rolled their eyes in unison continuing to torment Trent. “Whatever, don't need you lot anyway.” He puffed out air squeezing you tighter. “I’ll just keep my perks and my eggs to myself.” He smirked. You turned to kiss his cheek in consolation, with a hum of agreement. “Absolute snake,” Trent whispered in your ear, pulling you closer as you giggled.

Noah and Jack continued to tease Trent relentlessly, their laughter echoing through the kitchen as Trent tried to defend himself in vain. Finally, you slid three plates of eggs over to the boys, their teasing momentarily pausing as they eyed their breakfast.

“Alright, alright,” Jack said, mockingly holding up his hands in surrender as he took a bite. “At least ‘baby’ knows how to cook up.”

“Can’t say the same for you,” Noah added with a smirk, earning a glare from Jack. Ignoring them, you came around the counter, wrapping your arms around Trent from behind. He immediately leaned back into your embrace, his warm smile easing any guilt you might’ve felt for teasing him earlier.

“I’m sorry, baby. I love you,” you whispered softly into his ear before pressing a kiss just below it. Trent turned his head slightly, catching your gaze with that signature cheeky glint in his eye. 

“Nah, don’t be,” he replied casually, his voice at a normal volume so everyone could hear. “You are my best friend.” He smirked, awaiting Jack and Noah’s inevitable response. They instantly looked offended, their reactions in perfect synchronization as they both dropped their forks.

“Excuse me, bro?!” Jack snapped, with a laugh, feeling like this actually could be okay, that this could work if you and Trent were so light hearted about it all, so welcoming of the teasing. 

“I thought we were kidding. Fuck you!” Noah chimed in, looking dramatically betrayed. Trent couldn’t hold back his laugh, his grin smug and playful as he leaned forward to take a bite of his eggs.

“What? Just being honest,” he muffled out words with his mouth full, savoring the moment of turning the tables on them. You couldn’t help but giggle at the chaos, leaning down to kiss his cheek again. 

“Baby… Stop stirring the pot,” you whispered. 

“Nah, they deserve it.” He smirked, taking another bite of food. “Mmm, so good, pretty girl. This is why you're my best friend. Thank you,” Trent hummed contentedly, turning his head to kiss your lips this time. The kiss was quick, sweet, but enough to make Noah groan and Jack roll his eyes.

“Alright, that’s enough of that,” Jack muttered, picking up his fork again. “Gross. But also, true, eggs are good Y/N. Thank you.” Jack would tease you but he was sure to never take you for granted. You smiled and grabbed your own plate, finally taking a seat next to Trent.

“Yeah, eggs are boss, Y/N. Thank you.” Noah added as you all continued to eat your breakfast. “So, was thinking a little last night….” Noah began with a mischievous smile. “Just curious does anyone know how you clean a hot tub? What do you do... You know if it gets dirty.” He smirked, taking a big bite of eggs, stuffing his mouth full. Your jaw slacked a little. Jack snapped his head towards you, turning to face you with a disapproving look. Trent kicked the leg of Noah’s seat in retaliation, causing him to stumble and choke a little on his food. There was no real harm though, and that was clear the moment Noah finally swallowed his eggs and fell into a loud laugh. “Gonna be a good summer, lads!” He grinned triumphantly knowing his bit landed; Jack having to accept his fate, Trent being knocked down a peg, and you reminded someone was always watching. As the boys continued their banter, your gaze flickered between them and Trent, his hand caressing on your thigh under the counter top. This was it. The teasing, the laughter, the love—it all felt right. This was your new normal, and you realized you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The gym hummed with low energy, a mix of clinking weights and faint music filtering through the speakers. It wasn’t overly crowded, just a few people scattered around, focused on their routines. Devon stood by a bench, leaning against it with a towel draped over his shoulders. His mind wasn’t on his workout anymore; it hadn’t been since he’d walked in and seen Josh.

He watched as Josh stood at the weight rack, effortlessly curling dumbbells, his expression smug and self-satisfied as usual. Devon felt a wave of discomfort wash over him. He’d always thought Josh was cocky, maybe a bit of a prick, but this? The things Layla had told him—the video, the way Josh talked about you—it was so much worse than he could have imagined. Devon hesitated, fiddling with the towel in his hands as he debated whether to approach. Confronting Josh wasn’t exactly something he wanted to do, but it was becoming harder to ignore the nagging voice in his head. This isn’t right. Someone has to say something. Taking a deep breath, he finally pushed off the bench and made his way over.

“Hey, mate,” Devon said, his voice casual but tight as he came to stand near Josh. Josh glanced over, setting the dumbbells down with a clang. 

“Yo, bro. You good?” he asked, his tone easy but laced with confusion. Devon shifted uncomfortably, glancing around the gym before finally speaking. 

“Erm… So you and Y/N—what’s the deal there?” Devon asked haphazardly trying to figure out what was going. Josh raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. 

“What do you mean, ‘what’s the deal’? She’s mine. Simple.” The casual possessiveness in his tone made Devon’s stomach churn. He tried to keep his composure, but his jaw tightened. 

“Mate, you can’t really believe that, yeah? She’s not… yours. She’s moved on.” Josh’s smirk faltered slightly, his expression darkening. 

“Fuck off, Dev. What’s up with you?” He questioned. Devon hesitated, but he knew there was no turning back now. 

“No, serious, bro” Devon tone was bordering on pleading. “It’s just cause, the video you have of her… It’s not… you know…” Devon mumbled, not really able to formulate a compelling argument detailing how morally wrong it was. 

“Dev, bro… She’s a whore, things like that, of girls like that, are meant to be shared, yeah?” He explained with a smirk as if that was the most normal thing in the world. Devon’s stomach flipped. He knew Josh was kind of an ass, but they were teammates, they had fun together but this had gone too far. 

“Bro, it’s not cool, you know. Can’t hold that shit over people, it obviously wasn’t for you.” Devon snipped and it struck a nerve. 

“No, it was for me.” Josh stood up with force. “She’s mine, that piece of shit, Alexander-Arnold can’t have her. She’s a whore. So I’ll use that video to get her doing what she does best, to come back, and take Trent down in the process. Easy. Fuck them, bro.” Josh explained seriously. He truly believe this was sound logic.

“Nah, mate. There just isn’t an excuse for it. None of that is true and even if…” Devon stuttered, not sure if he could convince Josh but he’d try. “Bro, even if she was a whore or whatever you want to think, it doesn’t make it okay to do this type of shit.” Devon didn’t defend Trent, he didn’t really know him at the end of the day, but the thought of Layla crying was something he felt inclined to fix. He was just trying to get Josh to see how outlandish what he was saying was. 

“Dev, who the fuck do you think you are telling me what to do with that whore of all people… Fuck Alexander-Arnold.” Josh snapped looking at Devon with daggers in his eyes. “You need to relax. Get laid or something.” He quipped shoving down any thought that Devon could have a point.  

“Bro they’re in a relationship!” Devon yelped. “That’s his girlfriend. It’s just time you let that one lie. Plenty of girls elsewhere. Come on.” Devon begged. Josh froze, his grip tightening on the towel in his hand. 

“What.” Josh bit furiously. 

“What? I’m just saying. That it’s one thing to play dirty and try to get a girl but she has a boyfriend. It wasn’t a video meant for you… Just.” Devon sighed. “Just let it go.”  He looked at Josh pleadingly.

“Boyfriend?” Josh asked.  “You’re not serious…He’s her boyfriend?” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. Devon nodded slowly. 

“Yeah, mate. It’s serious. Her mate Layla…” Devon began to cite Layla as a source but Josh cut himoff. 

“Oh I see. Y/N having everyone do her dirty work again.” He said with a cocky grin and cynical laugh.

“Bro, stop. Come on, just time to move on from that one. They’re in love or some shit.” Devon sheepishly but surely explained. Josh let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. 

“Love? Trent doesn’t love her. He doesn’t even know her. She’s a whore, mate. Girls like her don’t get love—they get what I give them.” The words hit Devon like a punch to the gut. His face hardened, and he clenched his fists at his sides. 

“Aye, bro.” Devon cautioned Josh, starting to get pissed off. “I get it, you like to have that dom shit going with girls but you can’t talk about girls like that. You don’t get to talk about someone like that,” he said sharply, his voice rising. Josh scoffed, stepping closer to Devon. 

“Don’t start preaching to me, Dev. You’ve had your fun with Layla, yeah? Stay in your lane. This isn’t your business. Maybe you need to fuck her again, loosen up.” Josh spit back. 

“Mate, this is my business,” Devon shot back. “That video? That’s extortion. It’s disgusting. And you’re holding it over them like some sick game.” Josh’s eyes narrowed, and his smirk returned, more sinister than ever. 

“She’s mine. She’ll come back to me, and Trent? He’s done. Local lad, big dreams? Whatever the fuck his whole brand is. Bullshit and I’ll burn it down with this. Just stay the fuck out of it.” Josh explained simply. Devon shook his head, his voice dripping with disgust. 

“You’re fucking tapped, mate! This isn’t about her coming back to you. You gotta accept she with a lad who does beat the shit out of her.” Devon bit back and Josh’s smirk faltered for a moment, he was pissed. Josh quickly recovered though, stepping even closer. 

“Keep talking, Dev, and you’ll regret it. I always win. Always.” Devon held his ground, refusing to back down. 

“Nah, mate. Not this time. You’ve already lost. This has nothing to do with anything other than just being a good person. This isn't something you can win. Just delete the video. Let her go.” Devon begged Josh once over hoping maybe he’d have a revelation.  Josh let out a humorless laugh before turning on his heel and walking away. The tension in the gym was palpable as Devon stood rooted in place, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Josh’s words reverberated through his mind, each syllable dripping with venom and delusion. Devon stared at his own reflection in the mirror, trying to process what he’d just heard. He had always known Josh could be a bit of an dick—a cocky, arrogant type who liked to push boundaries. But this? This wasn’t just crossing a line; it was obliterating it.

Josh had walked off, smug and confident, leaving Devon standing alone at the weight rack, his stomach churning. He had never felt so conflicted. A part of him wanted to brush it off, to stay out of it like Josh had demanded. But the other part—the part that had spent time with Layla, the part that imagined if he was the one in Trent’s shoes—couldn’t ignore how completely messed up the situation had become. Josh’s insistence that he ‘owned’ you made Devon sick. The way he spat your name, the way he dismissed Trent and twisted everything into his own warped narrative—it was beyond disgusting. Devon let out a frustrated sigh, raking a hand through his hair. He wasn’t sure how he’d ended up in the middle of this mess, but he knew one thing: Josh wasn’t going to let it go. And now, with Josh fully aware that you and Trent were in a serious relationship, Devon knew things were only going to escalate. He grabbed a towel off the bench, his mind racing. He couldn’t go back to pretending this wasn’t happening. Not anymore. He wondered if he should talk to Layla— If Josh was planning something, you and Trent deserved a heads up.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 26 xx

[youkaigakkou-tl]

Hello. Thank you so much for sharing yohaji translations. There was a question bothering me for a while. Why do you think Ranmaru hates Seimei ? Would love to hear your thoughts on that.

see ranmaru is hard to read and seimei is even harder to read, but i do have a guess.

because of sensei's recent bad-end takahashi art, i've come to realise: yohaji is a cosmic horror story and seimei is the cosmic horror

if seimei happens to like you for some reason, or the timeline for the people he DOES care about puts you in a good place, then great! you're in good hands! (you were not aware you were in anyone's hands)

otherwise, you might just end up in a bad place, even though 1000 years ago, there was some guy who knew and could change things 1000 years into the future, who might have cared about you if something was different somehow.

of course, this wouldn't matter to you as the hypothetical person in this scenario, because how could you be expected to know about this one guy from 1000 years ago? he doesnt matter to you.

but ranmaru does know him. he was there next to him to see everything he did and said, and he still doesnt understand him

"hate" is an output, a symptom, and it's because ranmaru is afraid of seimei.

ranmaru is really smart and he's lived a long time. he generally knows how the world works and what makes people tick and he likes having the upper hand in a conversation and talking his way under people's skin.

and then this guy shows up and acts like he knows everything! and then he dies! and then you live the next 1000 years and find out he really did know everything and everything is unfolding in exactly the way he wants!

ranmaru likes his free will and his "doing whatever" and seimei is a direct threat to that. seimei stands for the idea that there's no such thing as free will, that everything is predetermined, that you were always going to end up where you are, and you never had any real choice in the matter. in the same way the last page of a book was already written by the time you set eyes on the first page, and in the same way meiji time travel stable time loop happening at all ensures that it was always going to resolve in the state of the world that led to the time travel happening in the first place.