#now i just have to decide what to read first

[yuujispinkhair]

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff. College AU. 1k words. Minors don't interact.

I wrote this drabble for New Year's Eve but forgot to post it lol. I just found it again and decided to share it now. I hope you can still feel the magic of a New Year's Eve kiss with Kuna even when it's already April ;) Divider @/.chilumitos

Sukuna kisses you for the first time on the rooftop of his dorm on New Year's Eve.

He's had his eyes on you for a while but never acted on it because you are his little brother's friend, and Sukuna knew he would get into trouble with the brat if he fucked you. So he kept his hands to himself.

Yeah, sure, Sukuna flirted with you anytime he ran into you during the last few months when you were over at his dorm to visit his brother. But that's just the way Sukuna is: always smirking and always saying something suggestive. Most of the time, he doesn't even mean it. But with you, it's different.

Sukuna likes how you laugh about the shit he says and how you flirt back, just as playful as he is. And damn, he likes how you ask him seemingly genuine questions about his nerdy little hobbies, like reading history books and collecting Heian-era documentaries, something that most other people never seem to ask him about.

And somehow, at some point during the last few months, Sukuna actually started to look forward to seeing you. And somehow, he lost interest in fucking someone new every other night. It even got to a point where his brother asked him if he was sick because there were no new hickeys on Sukuna's neck. And somehow, Sukuna didn't even flirt with others anymore, but saved all his charm only for you.

Two months ago, Sukuna finally realized he had a problem because all he could think about was you.

It's crazy. He never intended to like you that much. And it's not just crazy, but also scary because Sukuna isn't used to feeling these kinds of things. It makes him feel so... vulnerable. As if he could lose something he doesn't even have yet. As if he could truly get hurt.

Plus, you are such a good girl, so kind and sweet, and Sukuna is that troublemaking bad boy, and he low-key feared he wouldn't be good for you. So he held himself back all this time.

But now it's a few seconds before midnight on New Year's Eve, and you are standing before Sukuna, looking so pretty in your red glittery dress as you look at the night sky, excited for the fireworks. And fuck it, Sukuna doesn't want to hold back anymore.

Especially not when he sees that white-haired Gojo brat standing next to you, watching you over the rim of those stupid sunglasses that he even wears at night while slowly leaning closer, apparently trying to get lucky and steal a kiss when the clock strikes midnight.

Sukuna has to do something. He takes a step closer to you, bumping into your back, and you look over your shoulder, eyes becoming big when you see who it is, and for a moment, Sukuna feels a strange fluttery feeling in his stomach that almost makes him turn around again and run.

But then you smile warmly at him and say his name, or at least that's what Sukuna can read off your lips because the crowd around you starts to cheer loudly at that moment, starting the countdown to the New Year, swallowing your words.

But it's enough for Sukuna, and he smirks at you, reaching out to wrap his muscular arms around you from behind and lean down to murmur into your ear, "Happy New Year, princess. I bet you've been wishing for me to be your New Year's kiss, huh?"

He sounds playful and confident, but his pulse is racing and his chest feels too tight. Sukuna realizes he is nervous. Big bad Sukuna, who is never nervous, but somehow standing behind you a few seconds before the clock strikes midnight on New Year's Eve, with his arms loosely wrapped around you and his low voice saying things he wishes were actually true, is making him feel outright scared.

Sukuna doesn't even know, though, if he is scared that you will push him away, or if he is more scared that you will let him kiss you and make him fall even more for you.

You laugh, turning around in Sukuna's arms, tilting your head to look up at him, wishing him a Happy New Year, too, looking a bit sheepish and shy as you tentatively wrap your arms around Sukuna, too.

You gaze deeply into his eyes, your lips parted slightly, your breath coming out in little puffs in the chilly air as you look at Sukuna, a bit nervous but also hopeful. As if you are starting to believe in New Year's wishes coming true.

Sukuna is the one who brushes his lips over yours first. It's a tentative and gentle kiss, something that surprises him because he usually isn't like that. But it feels right to be this gentle with you.

You don't push him away, but instead sigh and kiss him back, your hands clinging tightly to Sukuna's hoodie, as if you are scared he will leave again. But Sukuna doesn't plan on leaving anytime soon. Not when your lips feel so good against his. Not when he has been thinking about this for months.

The kiss is much too long for a Happy New Year kiss. You miss the whole fireworks, but neither of you cares, and you just keep kissing as if you are drunk on each other's lips.

Sukuna groans softly when he pushes his tongue into your warm mouth, and you lick it slowly, playing with his tongue piercing while your smaller body presses tightly against him. Sukuna cups your jaw with one of his large tattooed hands, his thumb absentmindedly caressing your cheek, lost in your kiss, in your sweetness, much better than any drug he ever tried.

And you are on your tiptoes, leaning against Sukuna, kissing him back eagerly, clearly as lost in him as he is in you. Your hands slip under Sukuna's hoodie, maybe just to warm your cold hands, or maybe because you need him even closer, just like he needs you.

You caress his skin right where his tattoos are, making Sukuna grin into the kiss because he knows all those times he decided to walk shirtless into the living room while you were over visiting Yuuji paid off. You seem to know exactly where his tats are. You probably have been craving to trace them with your fingers for months. Just like Sukuna has been craving to wrap you in his arms and trace your soft lips with his tongue.

Well, how lucky you are because Sukuna plans to let you explore every single one of his tattoos in the New Year. And how lucky Sukuna is because he is kissing the only girl he ever wanted to make his girlfriend.

Sukuna smiles against your lips. He knows exactly what his New Year's resolution is.

I NEED HIM 😭😭 Writing this made me swoon and sigh and YEARN like crazy. I am happy I found this drabble again! I hope you enjoyed it even though New Year's Eve is far away.

Reblogs and comments would be very sweet 💗

[thecoochiefairy]

short n’ sweet. onyankopon.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 4.7K word count. blackfem!reader/original character, onyankopon, football player!onyankopon, sweet!onyakopon, dominant!onyankapon, arrogant!onyankopon, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, lil bit of sweet talkin’, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, squirting, creaming, aggressive dirty talk, nasty sex chile, just a fine ass black man, minors aren’t welcome!

𝓐ᥫ᭡

𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ guess who it is? yo’ favorite couple. now, lemme’ tell you. this is NOT the new fic, so look out for that in the next couple of days. this was just the nasty part of my mind wanting to put pen to paper—and i might’ve seen this video that reminded me of ole’ girl and ony real bad. so i suggest watching before reading ;) it’s nasty. sorry? kinda? not really. okay, bye.

𝓐ᥫ᭡:: your baby’s birthday is full of surprises.

visual.

STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE HADN’T BEEN YOUR ONLY CHOICE. From Bratz, to Hello Kitty, the possibilities of a six month olds birthday party shouldn’t have been so complex—that was, if you weren’t dealing with your black ass family. 

Driving from New Orleans to Mississippi wasn’t the issue. It was planning this party, having to take it three hours from your hometown, packing your children up for their first road trip, and making sure everything was set in stone by the time you arrived.

To top things off, you didn’t…feel well. 

Once again, this was all the doing of your mother in law. You loved her, but her desires of doing everything to her perfection could be—suffocating.

It was an exciting time—your baby girl was turning six months old, and the entire family freaked out as if this weren’t you and Onyankopon’s second baby. You could appreciate everyone’s desire to celebrate—aunts, uncles, Onyankopon even had a couple of his teammates coming.

The idea of planning this whole thing was supposed to be fun. But it became less fun when you had the realization that you weren’t the one in charge of this. It was even more frustrating that Onyankopon tried his best to tame his mother, but there was nothing much he could do when she had her mind made up. 

So you did what you always did—gave a smile, and tried not to fuss as much as you wanted to.

It started with the decorations. You’d bought everything you wanted for your baby girl’s party to give Strawberry Shortcake down to her outfit—however, after going over budget, you found out that your mother in law had gotten decorations professionally made, and she decided that your decorations were too “Boring.” 

Strike two was when she decided to ship everything to your house and not hers, meaning that you were overflowing the car, but you had to pack your own stuff, your husbands, and two babies into Onyankopon’s G—Wagon. 

Strike three—your breast ached from having to feed Sage within this three hour drive, you had the worst cramps on the planet—and you learned that Salem could become carsick. You stopped two times, having to change his clothes, hold him within the passenger seat with a tiny bottle of water, and made sure no vomit made it anywhere on the seats. 

When you finally made it to your mother in laws, all you wanted was a nap. Onyankopon offered to take the kids downstairs for a while as you slept, but around the clock, Sage could be what you called a velcro baby, losing her everlasting shit if you weren’t within arms reach.

 You were tired, irritated, and sore more than usual. But you weren’t gonna cry.

It all led up to the day of your baby girl’s birthday—the morning was a little more chaotic than you hoped for, current focus along feeding Sage, while your mother in law ran rapidly around the house.

“Where are the cupcake toppers? Did you move them?”

Your eyes flick up to her, standing in a pale pink and red apron, looking like a mentally insane pastry chef.

Your voice is soft as you say, “Ony put everything in the garage like you asked him to, momma.”

She doesn’t waste a beat to rush out of the kitchen, leaving the scent of buttercream behind. You turn your attention down to Sage, the baby smacking her lips against your nipple as she continues to suckle.

You can’t even properly greet your husband as he enters the kitchen, not to mention, he was doing a great job of avoiding your irritation and his mother’s wrath. He’d camouflage into the wall if he could.

“Lil’ mama already lookin’ for yo’ titty this early?”

You release a soft breath, “I’m really thinkin’ about taking her off—putting her on the bottle for good.”

Your eyes narrow a bit, “And where have you been? Yo’ momma in here’ about to lose her mind because you moved the cupcake toppers.”

“That’s how you greet yo’ man? Don’t start trippin’ on me, girl. Forreal’.”

He pecks a kiss on your lips, leaning down to do the same with his baby’s forehead. Your irritation might’ve soothed a bit.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, “I’m just—as little sleepy, is all. Good morning,” you pull him in for another soft peck on the lips, “Where’s Say-Say? Still sleep?”

“Yeah—lil’ nigga tried to swing on me earlier cause I told him to hand over that pacifier. But he ‘sleep—climbed his bad ass in Sage’s pack-n-play. The real question is—how you doin’?“

You can’t even answer the question. Onyankopon’s mother comes back into the kitchen as she questions, “Onyankopon—did you move the cake toppers? I told you not to touch them!”

Onyankopon raises an eyebrow, “And have you cuss’ me out? Hell nah’ I ain’t touch ‘em. They’ been in the garage since we got here.” 

“Are you sure you didn’t hear me mention the attic, and that’s where you actually put them?”

She dismisses his statement, the sound of opening and shutting doors echoing into the kitchen as she frantically pulls at the wood.

“Are you sure you ain’t lose em’?” 

“I have a great memory!” she huffs, “If I can’t find them—the cupcakes are gonna be dull—they don’t look a lick of Strawberry Shortcake!—And y’all just sitting there, watching me freak out!” 

She gives you no time to defend yourself, stomping out of the kitchen as she cusses. Your jaw is clenched a bit, turning back towards Onyankopon as you raise an eyebrow, “You wanna know how I’m doing? Forreal’? ‘Cause that might cause an argument.”

His eyes narrow, "C’mon, bro. Don’t start. You know how my momma be’."

“I ain’t even say nothing, Ony. You keep reminding how yo’ momma acts, but you ain’t saying nothing to her.”

 Your voice is a little sharp, pulling yourself back as Onyankopon tries to grab for Sage, “Stop—You know she’s gonna start crying.”

"If you 'bout to start somethin', can you do it after the party?" He takes note of your attitude, his voice more stern than usual, “We came all the way out here for lil’ mama—I ain’t about to let y’all make a scene.”

“I’m literally more calm than I should be,” you deadpan, “How you finna’ check me about my attitude but not yo’ momma? Your priorities are in the wrong place right now.”

Onyankopon smacks his lips, “I ain’t realized there was a manual on how to react when yo’ wife actin’ salty, and yo’ momma in the next room ‘bout to pop a blood vessel.”

“What you’ want me to do, Ony? How should I act?” You question, placing Sage against your shoulder, gently patting her back, even in the midst of your irritation.

“Just chill. I ain’t tryna’ click out on you and my momma.” 

Onyankopon’s gaze is serious, not backing down despite your glare.

“I’m so serious.” 

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow, “I’m sorry that me being irritated with the fact that we drove three hours—well, let’s wrap it up to five since Salem was car sick—that I had to also feed Sage— not to mention that I was extremely uncomfortable since we had no room in the backseat with all the extra decorations your mom decided to buy when I already bought some! I’m running off twelve hours of sleep in the past two days, and somehow your momma still thinks I’m not doing enough. My fault—let me chill.”

Sage burps, babbling as she wraps her mouth along the end of your shoulder. Your arms are sore at this point. You sigh, “Take her,” as you lean your baby girl into his arms.

Sage babbles, wrapping her toothless gums on the end of his t-shirt, rubbing her face into her fathers chest. 

“Aight,” He nods, hearing the frustration in your voice, “I’m sorry. You’ right.”

You don’t mean to be snappy—You don’t want to be. You hate when you get like this, another exhale blowing from your lips as you’re holding that urge to cry. God, your period was definitely coming. Not only are you emotional, but even being upset with your husband, you wanna be as close to him as possible. And—were you a little horny? 

You rub the muscular bicep of his tattooed arm, “You mind getting her dressed while I take a quick nap?”

He nods, “Of course. I was gon’ do that anyways.”

He takes Sage onto his shoulder, “I’ll come wake you up so you got time to get ready—just focus on sleeping, aight? I’m ‘bout to get Say-Say dressed and go help my momma with these cupcakes before dressing Sage.”

You reach for his ear, rubbing affectionately as you hum, “You’re so sweet, Daddy. Thank you.”

Onyankopon’s serious gaze eases, a smirk growing on his face.

“Aight—you know ain’t no callin’ me that if you ain’t gon’ do all the rest,” He shakes your grip from his ear, pressing a kiss on your palm. 

“C’mon, ‘fore you get me worked up.”

You roll your eyes, giggling softly as you begin making your way back upstairs—but you can’t help but listen to Onyankopon talking to your daughter—as he always did.

“Don’t worry, baby. All of us gon’ be back in NOLA soon, and yo’ momma gon’ be back to herself—You gon’ get to see aunties, uncles— whatchu think? A whole lotta Strawberry Shortcake, huh? What a life you’ blessed with, pretty mama…”

Getting some type of rest definitely puts you in a better headspace, and the true realization that you were celebrating your baby’s birthday couldn’t have made you any happier. Sage’s Strawberry Shortcake Party was in full swing. 

Sweets and desserts scattered across the plaid picnic table for guests to choose from. Everyone was here—family, Onyankopon’s players, even you and your mother in law were now getting along—everyone was in adoration of your baby, the celebration being better than you expected it to ever be. 

Your dress matched Sage’s strawberry covered bonnet, oversized along her dark curls, her dress fluffing out from its poofy frill. The sight had you snapping a thousand pictures— however, you’re a bit distracted. 

You’d redone Onyankopon’s braids for him the night before, the olive green shirt he wears clinging to his muscular frame, complimenting his brown skin that mixes with all of his tattoos. It’s something about how much of a southern man he really was—being in between New Orleans and Mississippi—he’s sporting jeans, a hefty belt shining under the natural light coming into the house, cowboy boots heavy on his feet with each step. Facial hair, face tats, it all pulls together with the print hung under his belt that he can’t seem to tuck. 

God. 

But you’re no better—the mini halter dress you wear molds around your full hips and ass, lace trimming along the end of the pale pink material. Your matching woven sandals show off the French tip of your toes, dark curls framing around your curvy figure.

The sight of your husband—it’s becoming a problem. Your heart swells as you hold Salem in your arms, the tune of Happy Birthday echoing to your baby girl, Onyankopon holding her up towards the cake, allowing her to tear the dessert apart piece by piece. She’s giggling, and to see Onyankopon so soft with your daughter that you created together—it made you love him even more. 

 Back to the point of him being a problem— now, he’s being touchy. 

Salem’s a bit more independent now, running around the yard with his cousins as he screams out in excitement. You have the perfect view of your family enjoying the celebration that your mother in law put so much time and effort into—you couldn’t help but thank her, despite your differences. 

Back to the point again, Onyankopon being a problem. His fingers become hooked along the waist of your dress, his face pressed in the crook of your neck as he kisses on your skin, gently nipping and licking.

You knew your husband to be affectionate, so to him, this was just showing you love in a way that he felt was innocent. But with each kiss, each compliment, your clit throbbed. 

Maybe he noticed. Maybe he didn’t.

The party was now close to ending—Sage and Salem being taken upstairs to bed, leaving the rest of the adults downstairs, drinking and catching up with each other. You leaned yourself against his shoulder as he talked to his teammates, lightly padding your fingers against his lower back in the softest way. Your palms travel, finding the warmth of his ear—you start rubbing there.  

Onyankopon can always sense your change in temperature. Your hands wander aimlessly on his body at this point, still giving no reaction to your touch as he occasionally takes a long swig from the bottle of beer in his hand.

You’re looking at him— his legs spread against the chair, boots flat along the ground, bulge prominent as he continuously attempts to adjust himself. Your mind won’t stop fantasizing, and you can imagine yourself just—

Dishes. You needed to do the dishes.

The moment you say your goodbyes to everyone, you’re quiet as you wash off the ceramic plates into the sink. You can hear Onyankopon throwing things in the trash behind you, a sigh parting from your lips as you ask, “That was nice, wasn’t it?”

“Mhm.”

 His hands slide up from behind, his arms enveloping your body as his hands gently rub circles along your stomach. Your body is pressed against his, warm and needy—but, was this the right time to speak up? 

“My baby had a big day,” He says, his voice in a low hum.

“I just wish she would be able to remember times like these, you know? She was so giggly and excited to smash her cake, and her outfit was adorable—those are times we’ll never get back with her. I’ll think about them a lot,” you softly smile, leaning yourself back against your husband's chest.

“She gon’ know how much we loved her,” He kisses on the side of your neck, “We do got’ a few more times like this before Salem hits three, so don’t beat yo’self up too much, aight? Our family is perfect.”

You press your lips together at that. Turning your head to face him, you’re tilting up to find the gaze of his height. Your brown eyes pool into his sight, hand reaching for his facial hair, scratching your fingers into the coils of it.

“Thank you for holding me together today. I was a little frustrated earlier—but everything turned out better than I ever thought it would. I was good, wasn’t I?”

“It’s nothing you gotta thank me for, baby. We do this as a team, aight? You was’ good, even when you had every reason to be upset. You my lil’ team player, forreal’.”

That makes you smile. Your eyes are right below his as you say, “You’ my big team player,” you softly giggle.

“I know that. C’mere.” 

His hand cups the back of your head, locking your lips into a kiss, full lips overlapping yours. It removes the lip combo you wear, tongue deepening itself in your mouth. 

“Yo’ ass was good today, Mama.”

You’re always ready to accept his kisses, but sometimes—between you and yourself—you couldn’t handle Onyankopon when he got like this. Not to mention that your body felt overly sensitive in the moment, so just from a kiss, you were trembling.

You’re shy within your giggle as you breathlessly muse, “T—Thank you, baby.”

“You already know I’m gon’ thank you some more in ‘bout two minutes. Take yo’ ass upstairs.”

Onyankopon was always a man of his word. Here you were now—body shuddering from his tongue previously nose deep in your pussy, heart rate pounding in your ears as you straddled your smaller frame atop of his. You loved riding him—but you loved seeing his face more, rather than facing the opposite way as you were now. On the other hand, Onyankopon loved this position just as much as seeing your pretty face— his eyes continuously traced over the ink tattooed along your back, the dark pink complimenting your caramel skin. 

You whimper to him, “Wanna see you, Ony.” 

His tip is already being engulfed by the pretty pink of your folds, puffy as they’re stretched by the girth of him. 

Onyankopon takes a handful of your hair, giving it a tug—your body quivers the minute you feel his other palm smack your ass, “Yo’ shit too muhfuckin’ pretty, Mama. Lemme’ enjoy you like this.” 

Your lashes brush against your freckled cheeks as you slowly lower your hips, every inch of him being sucked in by your pussy, the back of your thighs meeting his abdomen as you go down. The curls of your hair drape along your figure with the sway of your body dipping, your lips parting a bit, shakily gasping in the softest way. 

Leaning yourself against his legs, your teeth lightly tug at your lower lip as you rock down, finding a rhythm within the angle, skin creating the tiniest clapping echo against his dick. You part a whimper from your lips. 

“Goddamn, Mama—Who you doin’ allat for?” 

A hand makes its way over the front of you, rubbing the middle of your stomach to feel your body shift. His touch has you arching, your soft cry of pleasure deafening to your own ears as your ass bounces on his hips. You never sounded like this so early. 

“Ion’ know who you was tryna’ play,” Onyankopon grunts out—you’re like a pendulum, putting him in a trance with the way you wine your body. But that never stopped his mouth. 

“A nigga gon’ know if you need him as soon as you walk inna’ room—allat’ attitude, touchin’ on me—That’s how you know a nigga love yo’ ass. You love me, huh?” 

“Love you,” your voice is still soft, whimpering as you hold your ass in your own palms, spanking yourself, “Love you, Ony…” 

Every time he mentions the word love, even indirectly—you’re like a puppy, willing to agree to anything that comes from his mouth. That’s how it’s always been. 

“You a good lil’ bitch,” he grunts, “Keep fuckin’ me.” 

His clasp at the end of your curls has your eyes rolling, your mouth pouting as he tugs you down to meet the sticky heat of your pussy becoming wetter. His palm lowers itself, gripping your ass, finding a hold there—you’re dropping, dropping, you’re groaning in the prettiest way, “Ughn, O—Ony…” 

“Keep singin’, baby. Keep throwin’ that shit.” 

His desire for you grew with each child, with each touch, with each word. But he would still give you the world.

Onyankopon always gave you an immense amount of pleasure—but when he wanted to reward you—god, you were lucky you weren’t a mental patient.

The positions are always dominated by him, now having you bent at the edge of the bed, body arched to perfection, legs tucked underneath his to keep you still. His fingers always find a hold of your hair, locking you in place as he’s sliding his tip up and down against your folds—slow, aching.

Your face is hidden beneath the sheets, palm finding a collection of the comforter beneath your fingers. Your pussy spreads as his tip sinks in—Onyankopon grounding  his hips, allowing the weight of his dick to fill you in all one thrust. 

Your mouth drops, “Damn, baby…”

It’s almost torturous—his tip goes from kissing at your folds, to the air within your chest leaving as you’re full in a milliseconds, dick curving into your walls, reaching for your cervix that eats a delicious pinch from his strokes. Again and again, the room fills with a sweet lullaby of the slaps his hips make against your ass. Each thrust is accompanied by a satisfying whine from your mouth. 

“This them’ good girl strokes,” he grunts, stroking through his words, “Good ass fuckin’ girl.”

For the sake of your mother in law and children, you press your mouth into the sheets, eyes rolling as your whimpers muffle through the material—but Onyankopon could be the worst sometimes.

His favorite place to grasp—your curls, his fingers collect anything he can get his hands on, using it to drop you down in the slowest he’s ever given you a thrust, his balls rubbing against your clit, dick nearly reaching for your windpipe—he’s deep, deeper than he’s ever been before.

“Don’t fuckin’ move,” his voice is dark, “Imma’ keep you here. Let you feel this big ass dick.” 

“Fuckkk.”

Your eyes roll as you gasp—your pussy was’ stuffed.

“Can’t f—feel you no more,” you whimper, trying to pull yourself together through the pleasurable tears that begin to collect in your eyes. You tremble, your mouth quivering a sob, “I’m too wet, baby. Oh my g—god…”

You don’t even realize you’re cumming—squirting for that matter—only able to hear the splat, splat of your arousal gushing in between your skin colliding together. Your thighs are trembling, the vibration traveling up to your throat as you groan. 

“Don’t be fuckin’ lyin’ to me—you feel my shit.” 

His fingers tightened around your curls, forcing you back onto his dick after a swift jerk, making your head tilt backwards for your throat to be exposed, your lower body going numb as he fucks you into an oblivious space.

He’s close, sliding his soaked tip out to see your cum glistening down the dick, to putting you back on him—again, again, again.

You’re brain is so fried, you begin bouncing yourself back on his dick, cumming, continuously cumming—you’re whining as you turn your head back towards him, “Dick so fuckin’ big, Daddy. Just taking your pussy. Just. Take…me….” 

You’re talking through the strokes you provide for yourself, you’re drooling, almost in a bimbo like state. He took you there. 

His body looms over yours as he finds a place of your throat to hold, pulling your face back to watch you. The sounds you made were identical to an angel crying, prettier than ever before. His dick finds the last crevice of space left inside you—his tip rests in between your cervix, “Make a mess on this bitch. Make. A. Fuckin’. Mess,” he emphasizes thrust. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuckkk.”

It happens—you scream—Onyankopon moans as you squeeze around him, pulling himself out to replace his dick with his fingers—he chaotically rubs your clit, fingers becoming drenched as you squirt again. 

His hand holds you in place as you cry, legs trembling, having one of the most intense orgasms you’d had with him. There’s more tears in your eyes, your head knocking into the sheets, hiding your flushed face as you hadn’t expected your own reaction.

His voice grumbled into the shell of your ear, “There you go, baby. You did that shit for me. Did all that shit for me, huh?”

You only have to let out a shaky exhale in response to his words, too exhausted to argue otherwise.

That’s when you both hear a knock— it startles you so bad that your entire body jolts, Onyankopon cradling you beneath his hold protectively. His voice is low as he responds, “Yeah, momma. What you’ need?”

“I heard screaming—is everything alright? 

You hide your face into his arm. 

Onyankopon deepens his face into your neck, chuckling before he replies, “Yeah. She—uh, saw a big ass spider. We’ good.” 

“Oh—I just wanted to check. Anyways , this baby lookin’ for yo’ wife’s nipple.“

You sigh, barely able to respond, nearly halfway asleep in the seconds they conversed with each other. Your voice is soft as you reply, “I’m comin’, momma—Just give lil’ mama her binky until then.”

The silence that fills the room confirms that she left, a quiet, soft laugh coming off Onyankopon’s lips. 

“You know she ain’t stupid—she finna’ get my ass, lawd.”

“No,” you cover your reddened face with his arm, “That’s so embarrassing. God, please go get Sage so I don’t have to face that conversation.”

“You heard how bad my ass was lyin’?”

He continues chuckling, the rumble of it hitting your back as you huff, “Ony.”

“Aight, aight,” He laughs, “Let me clean up ‘fore I head up there.“

The heat of the moment begins to fade away as your sobriety washes over you. The moment he goes to leave—you stop him. Turning to face him, you wrap your arms around Onyankopon’s neck as you pucker your lips out for a kiss, “I love you. You love me?”

“With my life, shawty,” He leans forward, pressing his lips into yours for a quick peck that you’ve been seeking.

“You sure?”

You didn’t mean to have the question sound worrisome, but your voice was a little—hesitant. You were hesitant.. 

“Baby. That’s never gon’ change. What’s going on?” he frowns, “Why’ you feelin’ like this?”

Remember all the times you said you weren’t gonna cry today? 

Too late for that. 

Your hands quickly cover your face as you feel your body trembling— you softly sob, hiding your cries within your palms as you release all the emotions you’d been holding for the past couple of days.

“Aye—What’s goin’ on, baby? Hey,” he takes your face into the palms of his large hand, “You can cry, forreal’, but what got you feelin’ like this? Why’ you think I wouldn’t love you? Talk to me.”

Your tears run down your face, cheeks as red as your baby girls as you continue to cry. Your voice shakes as you whimper, “You’re gonna be upset with me…” 

“Aight, aight, just—,” he shakes his head, cupping your face into his hands more  as he tries to figure out what to say.

“—You know I can’t stand seeing you cry. I ain’t never gon’ be mad at you for that—just talk to me.”

You take a deep breath, “I’m sorry for being mean to you, baby. I just—I love you so much—and you told me that you wanted a big family—but we just had lil’ mama, and you’re about to get back on the field again—“ 

“Mama,” he cuts off, “Slow down. What you’ tryna say? Are you pregnant?” 

“…I just—I wanted to try a new birth control because the IUD was giving me issues—and I forgot to take my pills—you probably don’t even want another baby.”

You’re crying even harder now, pressing your face into his chest.

“You—,” He sighs, not even attempting to mask his irritation, “You think I’d be upset that you’ pregnant again?” 

 His tone is low before he continues, “I don’t care if you get pregnant with ten of my kids. You my fuckin’ wife. We’ll have a whole muhfuckin’ football team if that’s what god blessed us with. I love you. That ain’t gon’ change.”

That makes your heart swell. You press your forehead to his, a tearful giggle falling from your lips. 

“I didn’t mean to start crying,” you softly say, taking a deep breath as your fingers wrap around his necklace, “My period was supposed to be a week ago, but when I realized it was late—I thought I was being dramatic thinking I was pregnant again, so I didn’t even tell you—I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be talkin’ nonsense,” He mutters, “I told you when we first started this family that the number didn’t matter to me—As long as you happy.”

“I’m more than happy,” you say, pressing your lips back into his, “I love you and our babies so much.” 

Onyankopon’s smile grows into a smirk, “I got a bunch of kids runnin’ around here anyway, Salem ‘bout two in one—I’m ready when you ready, baby.”

That makes more tears pour from your eyes. You tighten your arms around his neck as you softly cry, “I love you so much, Onyankopon.”

“I love you more, baby. Ain’t that why yo’ lil’ ass cryin’?” He chuckles, gently patting and rubbing on your back, “You gon’ be a mess if you keep goin’ like this. I’m finna’ go tell my momma—MA! MA!”

You giggle as he takes off—and at this point, you’re not entirely sure why you’re still crying. You’re just sensitive, okay?

You’re sobbing, but you’re so happy. You had no idea how lucky you truly were to have this man. Your heart flutters as you try to stop your tears, but the love for your family is making it difficult. The love for him made it all the more worse.

That was never gonna change.

[leonarecs]

we’re back for part two 🤭 i’m scared but excited because i know they are finally gonna FUCK n i’m very happy about that LMFAOOO, now let’s begin 👀

His absence leaves a heavy weight of guilt that presses hard onto your shoulders, regardless that he had been the one to mostly start the fight. What had you really even done wrong? 

absolutely NOTHING queen, do not feel guilt!!!!! he’s being an ass <3 (sigh i kinda feel bad too i have too much of a soft spot for this man)

Despite his elusion you still see him, amongst your shared classes, the late nights in the common room or when passing in the halls.

this when they’re usually attached at the hip omg it hurts to imagine it MY BABIES

He decides it’s not worth getting involved now that Mattheo’s made his intentions clear. He wants nothing to do with it.

oh, so i’m not worth fighting for 😔✋ i see how it is, what a pussy. of course you’re scared of mattheo 🙄 (it’s okay at least we’ll have scary bf privileges soon)

He had just suddenly been everywhere, like a convenient beacon.

the ‘do you really like him or is he just giving you the attention you’ve been so desperately craving from someone else’ trope is inescapable and i love it

For the way you felt under Mattheo’s spotlight was divergent. He made you feel special, your heart beating to a different rhythm for him. Being with Mattheo was like watching a sunrise for the first time, the shades of orange and pink peeking up after you both stayed up all night stargazing. It made you feel alive. He made you feel alive. Made you feel electric with life and like you could conquer anything with him by your side. 

I’M FUCKING SCREAMING OVER THIS??? THE DESCRIPTION OF HER LOVE??? THE WAY HIS ATTENTION IS DIFFERENT FROM EVERYONE ELSE IN THE WORLD?? i’m sobbing. this captures that overwhelming feeling of being seen by someone you care about so perfectly. also the way you went from “it made you feel alive” to “he made you feel alive” to drive it home FUCK it hits so hard. it’s like you can feel her heart waking up for him. i’m actually going to cry over this.

It wasn't his fault he was deeply flawed, but it was your choice to be the one to see him past those sharp thorns. To help bloom the roses that laid trapped underneath the rumble, bring them to light in the same way as how you saw him.

again, no words to describe how i feel, so:

“I'm not oblivious like you two are, besides I don't really want a repeat of my last relationship.” 

poor guy can’t catch a break from all the girls that have secretly been in love with another boy since they were kids

“Not entirely sure what you see in the nutter, but knowing what kind of girl you are, it must be something good.”

AWWW OKAY THAT WAS SWEET I’M GIGGLING

A week without you had been to put nicely, hell for him. He had wallowed entirely, sulking like a pathetic child, like his favourite candy had been ripped from his clutches. He realized quickly that this was worse, that having your attention shared, not having your presence at all, had turned him into a dreary grump.

the way he completely falls apart without her in his life, HE’S SO IN LOVEEEE Y/N OPEN YOUR EYES

He missed you in his arms. He missed the gentle way you would soothe him to sleep. With warm caresses that resembled a mother’s touch, but with you it felt more intimate.

i genuinely believe you’re trying to kill me right now. my heart is literally unraveling with every word i read, mother, why must you be so cruel 😖 him falling asleep in her arms only will never fail to fucking destroy me. and they still wanna talk about some “best friends” bullshit bro, stfu

Clearing your throat of nerves, you speak directly to the point. “I didn’t mean it.” Mattheo's stubbornness had always been a persistent habit, one of his shortcomings that meant you knew it was unlikely he'd apologize first. Especially considering he can’t even look at you. 

the fact that she just knew where he’d be. without even having to ask anyone, they really know each other better than anyone else in the world UGHHH 😓😓😓 also idc if he’s stubborn, he should be apologizing FIRST tf ✋

“I’m sorry, I.. I- you.. are wanted. Always, Mattheo.”  “But not in the right way.”

oh god i literally cannot breathe right now

“It's fine, Ace. You’re forgiven. We’re still friends, alright.” 

bitch. don’t you have something else to say. and what the FAWK do you mean ‘friends.’

He fights the part of him wanting to swallow his pride and spit out an apology, but he’d never been good at those. That would mean he’d have to explain the reasoning and vulnerable depth, years' worth of trauma that built a viscous insecurity he’d never shared with anyone, not even you. He didn’t feel exactly spritely about indulging you just because you were upset that he hit Dean.

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it once again, the way you characterize him is fucking spot on. you can feel how stubborn and defensive he is without it ever outright saying “he’s stubborn” — it’s all in the why. the way you tied his pride to this deep, unspoken insecurity?? it makes him so much more human. he’s not just being difficult to be difficult, he’s protecting these old wounds he doesn’t even know how to show. i’m losing it over how layered this makes him.

“For what? You’re the one that called me unwanted.” 

NO I DIDN’T, STOP PUTTING WORDS IN MY MOUTH.

“I said I was sorry.” The words whisper with the tone of desolation. Despite your anger, the guilt and worry break the barrier through the emotions you wear on your sleeves, knowing you never wished to hurt him. 

THE POOR GIRL MY HEART HURTS SO BAD RIGHT NOW it wasn’t her fault 😭 

He steps without hesitation; coming closer, wrapping you up into his arms, a much needed hug for the both of you. He aches, feeling you reciprocate, gently hugging him back, and he holds you a little tighter, having missed your touch.

the hug oh my god i have real tears streaming down my face right now, the history and emotion between these two is too much for me to handle

The small sounds of your sniffles smothering into his chest vibrate through to his heart painfully, like an earthquake causing destruction to his protective walls.

more metaphors that i adore and have to highlight thank you very much

He turns glaring at you. “Let’s just go inside, Ace! It’s fucking thundering!” 

it’s so intense right now, i’m literally buzzing with anxiety goodnight. this whole scene is playing out like a movie in my head the dialogue is SO GOOD.

He's ignoring how his mind is screaming to just tell you the truth, to finally bare his heart and soul to you, but the fear of rejection has him by the throat.

yeah.

“Tell me- god please Mattheo, I swear if this friendship means anything to you! You’ll fucking tell me.” The doubt creeps back in; Dean was wrong. He doesn’t see you the same. 

i’m fucking screaming JUST TELL HER THE TRUTH YOU’RE DOING NOTHING BUT FEEDING HER DOUBTS RIGHT NOW PLEASEEEE MY HEART CAN’T TAKE MORE OF THIS ARGUMENT, he’s just letting her believe that he doesn’t give a shit whether she’s in his life or not 😞

“because you’re the best thing in my life! And yet I'm just scum on the bottom of your shoe.. And that motherfucker was right and I hate him for it, because I-i-I don't deserve you!.. Not your kindness… or attention… or friendship, and yet I'm still greedy. I still want more!”

ASAHSEDHAEGDFFYGACHUNˆSHDGFHDGFUHERIFJIENDXKJEWBDXJERBGCHJHIÇ≈≈XEFUHGVUFHDGU OH MY GODIFHJDG

i’m sorry. i cannot fucking breathe right now, there’s so much i want to say. the angry confession. the stuttering. the “i’m still greedy.” FUCKING HELLLLLL, when they think they’re not worthy but still can still admit that they want more, i can’t DO THIS ANYMORE

“B-because- because I fucking love you, you idiot!” 

can’t even turn on all-caps, i’m too busy trying to hit the right letters through my tears

You're shut up by the pleasant surprise of his lips smashing onto yours, with an effort of urgency urged behind the feel of his soft lips. His hands move to cup your face, your soaked face, the warmth of them rising a blush to your cheeks, as he holds them with tenderness. He kisses you with all the love he has, willing to give you every beat of his heart. He knows you already have it. It's always been yours. 

the last line i—

“Actually?” He smiles in reassurance and hope glosses over his eyes. His chest vibrates as he chokes out a disbelieving laugh and his grin broadens. "You-u lo-” He can't even finish the sentence so choked up by all of this.  A smile graces your face with wide, full cheeks that burn with happiness and you reciprocate his choked upness, feeling the tears start again. The way your head nods ridiculously fast, flicking your drenched hair in all directions, makes him chuckle and he cups your cheeks for fear of it flying off. “Not fucking with me are you now Ace, cuz I swear to god if you-”  Leaning forwards you capture his lips effortlessly, now being the one to shut him up.

this whole sequence has me actually laughing and smiling through tears WHO AM I????? g, you’re so unbelievably talented, the feelings are feeling really hard right now and i need a nap despite the fact that i slept for 15 hours last night

His arm guides you wrapping around your waist, a stark contrast to the way his arm usually drapes over your shoulder casually.

THIS DIFFERENCE BEING POINTED OUT AAAAHHHHH i’m literally bursting with happiness rn. also him not being able to handle seeing her cry even when its happy tears, fuck just let me fall to the floor real quick

His gaze drops and his eyes darken shamelessly, admiring how your shirt clings to your body, accentuating your chest. He licks his lips, letting his thoughts run wild for once with no guilt, and stops what he was doing walking closer. His hands graze your waist, letting you know of his proximity as he speaks with a low husk in his tone. “Lemme help Ace.” 

I’M LITERALLY TREMBLING OMGOMGOMG HE’S SUCH A PERV LMFAOOOO WE’RE GETTING SOMEWHERE I’M SO EXCITED

His head dips, brushing his lips back against yours, and he whispers with the weight of a man ready to feast on his deepest desires. “Ace..you know I want you… don't you?” He’s so close that when he licks his lips, his tongue grazes your lower lip with the subtlest of touches and he relishes in the sucking in of your breath.

the way i’m holding my breath right now fucking hell, my choochie quaking i can’t even lie to you

Mattheo might be oblivious to love, but he’s a keen observer in the act of sexual intimacy. It’s as if his eyes are an x-ray lust detector. He knows all the tells of an aroused woman. “So pretty Ace, fuck..you’re making me want to kiss you senseless.”

“Fuck, you look so sexy when you bite that.” 

the way he thought this in part one as well and now he’s actually able to voice his thoughts ajdghfgff i’ll never get over mattheo calling us sexy 

He grabs your wrists, gently kissing both of them before he pins them above your head, shocking a gasp out of you. He grins, satisfied by your reaction as he shifts, sliding his hands upwards, intertwining your fingers together in an intimate hand hold. 

my first reaction while reading this: oh my god, kissing her wrists is the sweetest fucking thing i’ve ever read. second reaction: HE DID WHAT OMG I CAN’T STOP SCREAMING. third reaction: HAND HOLDING MY FUCKING FAVORITE MY HEART IS MALFUNCTIONING 

He shifts, rolling onto his side, allowing your hand to slip inside his pants and wrap around his cock. He can’t help but buck his hips into your palm at the feel of your hand making contact. “Fuck-Ace.” His eyes droop, looking at you shifting onto your side too, your tits squishing together in the constraints of your bra, his mouth gaping letting out a hitched shaky breath. 

Couldn’t even edge to this, I exploded immediately!!! Clean up on aisle MY PANTS 😂😂😂😂 (i’m sorry.)

“Soakin Ace. You've been this wet the whole time?” 

YES OBVIOUSLY OH MY GOD

“Yeah, you want another? Want me to stretch you out…wanna be ready for me, don’t you, Ace?” 

He gives his fingers a quick lick, not wanting to waste a single drop of you, watching focused how you shuffle out of your panties. 

OH MY GODDDJSGEWFHG WHAT IS THIS FEROCITY THAT YOU’VE EVOKED IN ME RIGHT NOW I’M BARKING

Wandering his gaze at your movements, he watches frozen, disbelieving the vision before him. Sitting up onto your elbows, you unclip your bra, freeing your tits and exposing yourself fully. His pants sit halfway down his legs, his jaw tensing, eyes gazing with enamour at your bare body. He blinks again, swearing this has to be one very good sex dream. 

MY FEELINGS CANNOT EVEN BE VOCALIZED RIGHT NOW I DIED DEAD RIP ME THE WAY HE FROZE GOODBYEEEEE

“God, I love your laugh.. gonna make me cum right now.” Your laugh grows in ecstatic shock at his vulgar words. “Mattheo!” “Oh yeah, look at you practicing screaming already.”

THE GIGGLE THAT THIS TORE OUT OF ME SHOULD BE STUDIED BECAUSE I SWEAR I’VE NEVER MADE THIS SOUND BEFORE

“Tell me really, am I bigger?” 

I’M FUCKING CRYING LMFAOOOO HE’S SO ANNOYING

But then you smile and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and whisper an adorable, “Hi.”

AAAAAAAHHHH ITS GIVING “Hi, Johnny.” “Hi, Shannon.” SQUEALING ESPECIALLY WITH THE TITLE TOO AHHHH

“I want your eyes on me the whole time, ok Ace.” 

whatever you say, daddy— i mean what hahahhahahah

He flickers his eyes back and forth from how his cock slides between your folds captivatingly and up to your pretty blessed out face. Your mouth gaping as streams of whiney moans flows out, your head thrown back in ecstasy. “Fuck, I don't know where to look baby…look so good taking me.”

“s'good..the best ace. I could live in your pussy, just fall asleep and never wake up.”

it’s all over the screen 💔💔💔🥀🥀🥀

The notion that you'll both be alright, swaddled in the new cocoon of your relationship, both finally receiving the love you deserve together.

this is such a beautiful way to end it i’m sobbing

speaking so truthfully when i say that this wasn’t just a fic; this was a fucking experience. i felt like i was watching a movie in theaters and i didn’t even realize how long this was (18k words together i think?!?!) because it flowed so well and the dialogue never left a single moment where i wasn’t hooked. this, in its entirety, was so unbelievably well written—the dialogue, the metaphors, the story, descriptions and imagery, the way you weaved in their backstory and their tie to each other. i hate that it’s taken me so long to read it fully without distractions, but you truly exceeded all expectations. like i know deep in my heart that, from now on, every time i think about a best friends-to-lovers trope with him, my mind is instantly going to go to mattheo and ace because they’ve just set the bar for this whole trope. the yearning, the slow burn, the hesitance for both sides to finally admit their feelings, the fear of rejection — it’s all put together so perfectly. the emotion is so real and raw and powerful, i felt everything like it was actually happening to me. this might (definitely) be my favorite writing i’ve ever read from you. you’re fucking phenomenal b, literally never stop writing!!! (and never leave this fandom, i won’t survive without you!!!)

i honestly don’t even know how i’m to move on from this. someone come pick me up off the floor because i need mattheo and ace forever and ever (i know you posted something else of them and i’m excited to read but like fuck i just need an 8 book series of them because i’m not ready to let go)

[S]he will be loved ~ part two

Sum Reader is hopefully and madly in love with her best friend, constantly having her heart broken living in the shadows of other girls. Unaware that he’s hiding a secret, unable to express the truth about how he feels for her too.

Warn: NSFW18+, angst, yelling, swearing, PIV, fingering, semi handjob, dirty talk, (the smut is a little vanilla for the sake of being romantic), use of Ace as a nickname, y/n occasionally, Dramatic asf fr, maybe too dragged-out argument lmfao. Wc: 9.4k An: thank you for being so patience! It is suggested you read part one if you haven't, once again I went a bit in circles with this and so now will run away nervous as hell! but hope you all enjoy! Dividers from here & here

He makes good on his promise, avoiding you for the rest of the weekend and into the next week. His absence leaves a heavy weight of guilt that presses hard onto your shoulders, regardless that he had been the one to mostly start the fight. What had you really even done wrong? 

Despite his elusion you still see him, amongst your shared classes, the late nights in the common room or when passing in the halls. His head locked straight ahead, as if the wall is the most interesting thing, and if his gaze weakens and he nips a glance at you, it holds no kindness. The icy water drenches your bones again and makes you question your memory, and how badly you’ve hurt him. 

Dean keeps his distance as well, despite being unaware of your fight with Mattheo, the damage by him is more than physical and Dean wishes to keep far from the drama tempting to unravel. He decides it’s not worth getting involved now that Mattheo’s made his intentions clear. He wants nothing to do with it. His distance doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and you can’t help wondering how you’ve managed to drag him into an unnecessary mess. 

Had you, in spite, subconsciously used Dean to get a reaction from Mattheo? Were you challenging the bounds of your friendship? It wasn’t like you had planned to even consider Dean an option. He had just suddenly been everywhere, like a convenient beacon. It hadn’t been hard to get along, with his contagious energy and charming personality, he had easily cleared the thick aged brain fog once completely consumed by Mattheo.

Clouds slide inwards, covering the heat of the sun, and casting downward shade along the cobblestones, making you plan to head back inside soon. You sit under the shelter of a tree in the viaduct courtyard pondering the inner turmoil. Feeling conflicted, you sigh, weighing up the differences between them. 

Dean, a kind and warm spirit who opened his arms to you instantly, making you feel needed and welcome. So ready to listen, and match your energy to his own passions. But there was always something missing. It all felt very surface level, and maybe that was because it was new. Or maybe he just gave you what you were yearning so desperately for. Attention. 

But it wasn’t the right type you craved. For the way you felt under Mattheo’s spotlight was divergent. He made you feel special, your heart beating to a different rhythm for him. Being with Mattheo was like watching a sunrise for the first time, the shades of orange and pink peeking up after you both stayed up all night stargazing. It made you feel alive. He made you feel alive. Made you feel electric with life and like you could conquer anything with him by your side. 

Maybe you ought to give Mattheo some credit, for he his life had always left him complicated. 

You, of all people, know the traumatic strain his upbringing had scared him, continuing into his current life. There is no escaping the forceful path his life has been shunted down, his hands bound. It wasn't his fault he was deeply flawed, but it was your choice to be the one to see him past those sharp thorns. To help bloom the roses that laid trapped underneath the rumble, bring them to light in the same way as how you saw him.

You sit up suddenly, spotting Dean crossing the courtyard with his friends, and jump at the chance to make amends with him. “Dean!” 

His head whips around and he stops walking, allowing you to approach. His smile is less, but not unwelcoming. “Hey Y/n.”

You eye his friends awkwardly till they call out for Dean to catch up and continue walking. You shuffle between your feet, feeling nervous about starting the conversation. “Hi- I.. I just wanted to apologise. I’m really sorry about what happened last weekend.” 

Dean is quick to shake his head, respectfully dismissing your apology. “It’s fine, you don’t have to apologize, y/n. I hold no grudges towards you - besides, my nose has healed up all fine.” 

You wince at his little joke, adding, “It's not just on behalf of Mattheo, I want to for myself too.”

“Oh?”

“I’m worried. I led you on.. Though I swear it was completely unintentional..”

Dean nods his head firmly and grabs your shoulders to calm your rambling. He already understands and offers you one of his kind smiles you had grown to miss. “It’s really alright. I kind of figured that out already.. And I definitely don’t wanna meddle in the middle of your situation with Riddle.” 

“Figured out?”

His eyes crinkle and shoulders shake as he laughs at your oblivious confusion. “I'm not oblivious like you two are, besides I don't really want a repeat of my last relationship.” 

You nod, not quite understanding what he means by oblivious, but feeling the recurring wave of guilt hit for misleading Dean and so you just give him an appreciative smile. Your heart remains heavy despite Dean’s forgiveness. “I’m sorry again, anyway.” 

He shakes his head, dropping his hands from your shoulders, “It’s fine y/n. Maybe catch ya with Eli sometime. But good luck with everything, yeah. Not entirely sure what you see in the nutter, but knowing what kind of girl you are, it must be something good.”

While Dean retreats, catching back up with his mates, you stay eyes locked on where he last stood in a daze of thought. Must be something good. That’s always what you’ve seen in Mattheo, aware that it’s the defining string between your relationship. The knot that continued to tighten throughout your years at Hogwarts, strengthening with every moment of trust and kindness you shared with him. 

For once you bite the trepidation and unknown awaiting, the thought illuminating and making the lightbulb brighter. Hoping maybe Mattheo’s reactions to Dean were rather explainable, and burying the one doubtful tic questioning if this was his usual protective self or merging into something new. 

With newfound determination, you set off to find Mattheo, choosing to believe in the bright possibility that this territory was Mattheo awaiting under the rainbow of your deepest fantasies with a mutual feeling. 

A week without you had been to put nicely, hell for him. He had wallowed entirely, sulking like a pathetic child, like his favourite candy had been ripped from his clutches. He realized quickly that this was worse, that having your attention shared, not having your presence at all, had turned him into a dreary grump. His mood was not subtle in the slightest, every emotion of agonized resentment shadowed his face in a deep scowl. 

He was mad at you for how you defended that prat so easily, without stopping to question his intentions. But then again, he’d never openly admitted that Dean’s words had gutted him, mentioning his biggest insecurity. Not being worthy of you. Of your attention, your kindness, your laughter, your warmth, and last, your love. It had eaten away at him all week. 

He’d hardly slept, which was saying something for he rarely could. He knew he was undeserving, and yet if there was anyone he wanted to prove his worth to, it was you. 

He continued to watch the lull of the black lake from within the Boathouse, a quiet spot for his thoughts to wrestle in the ring with one another. He missed you in his arms. He missed the gentle way you would soothe him to sleep. With warm caresses that resembled a mother’s touch, but with you it felt more intimate. His cigarette burned, allowing small moments of relief to flow through his lungs, the inhale of nicotine calming his distressed heart. 

He hears the footsteps of someone entering the wooden house and peers over his shoulder, assuming it was someone who knew he came here. Seeing its you, he turns back to look at the water, exhaling another deep breath, his heart exhilarating just by your presence. He suddenly feels clammy, wishing to douse himself in the cold water just to calm his nerves. 

His shoulders square tensely as you near, and you continue with caution, uncertain how to proceed. Everyone knows the extent of Mattheo’s temper, and thankfully you’ve never found yourself on the other end. 

Your earlier bottomless energy and hopeful determination seems to have found a sudden end, diminishing like his smoke does into the afternoon sky. Being around Mattheo again makes the doubt seep back inwards, wondering if Dean had been imagining something between the two of you. 

Clearing your throat of nerves, you speak directly to the point. “I didn’t mean it.” Mattheo's stubbornness had always been a persistent habit, one of his shortcomings that meant you knew it was unlikely he'd apologize first. Especially considering he can’t even look at you. 

He stays quiet, listening actively. He doesn’t like where this is going, despite aching to make up with you, having never fought with you like this before. He’s aware this is leading to an unstable vulnerability, and he’s not sure he can hold on to the part of him that despises being soft.

“I’m sorry, I.. I- you.. are wanted. Always, Mattheo.” 

He flinches at the use of his full name. Coming from your lips, it sounds so sweet and remorseful. He knows you’re being sincere. He can hear it in your voice and somehow it makes it harder for him to admit his own wrongdoings. “But not in the right way.” He mutters mostly to himself, exhaling the last of his cigarette. 

Frowning, not catching his mumbled whisper, you take another step bravely and stand beside him, finally capturing a glimpse at his face. It holds no clear emotion of how he’s truly feeling, constrained by the mask he wears protectively. Eyes locked dead on the smoothness of the water, the clouds darkening out above the lake and the surface breaks as raindrops ripple, gently dropping onto it. Even in his blank expression, he still looks gorgeous, making the butterflies flutter. 

He sighs, knowing you’re giving him a look to explain, for an answer, anything as he keeps his lips pressed into a thin line. His jaw clenches desperately trying to avoid glancing at you, for he’s well aware that with just one look, he'd crumble. 

He stabs the end of his cigarette out on the wooden panels, discarding it into the previous piles of used up ones. “It's fine, Ace. You’re forgiven. We’re still friends, alright.” 

Even as he says the words, he curses himself for leaving your relationship there, when he so wants to take the conversation somewhere else. Somewhere further, where he can express himself to you fully, but he’s afraid. He turns towards the exit. “It's late, and it's starting to rain. Let's head back up.” 

You stand frozen, reflecting over his words, “wait - what? I’m forgiven?!” 

“Yes, that's what I said. Isn’t that why you came here?” He pushes through the door, feeling the beginning of the downpour hitting his skin, quickening his pace, not checking to see if you’re following.  

You trail behind him in disbelief, appalled by his audacity. You knew he was stubborn, but not to this extent. “Yes, but-what about yours? Don’t you think I deserve one too?!”

He hears the pain and confusion in your tone and curses himself. He fights the part of him wanting to swallow his pride and spit out an apology, but he’d never been good at those. That would mean he’d have to explain the reasoning and vulnerable depth, years' worth of trauma that built a viscous insecurity he’d never shared with anyone, not even you. He didn’t feel exactly spritely about indulging you just because you were upset that he hit Dean.

“For what? You’re the one that called me unwanted.” 

He knows it's a hard blow as soon as the words leave his lips. But he refuses to change something about himself he knows will only make him weak. Showing that kind of vulnerability and transparency to you is not something he can afford in his life. He can't stand to see your view of him change. To see him fragile, the hidden boy behind the hard exterior. Even if you end up hating him, he’d go to the grave protecting that piece of him, even from himself. 

He keeps walking, not noticing that you’ve come to a stand stall, frozen in shock from his jab. His words make your heart ache. It's clear he still holds a grudge over the words you said. You had never meant it like that. It wasn’t that he was unwanted, but his overwhelming protectiveness that ultimately made you feel like he was in control of you, and you had always put up with it. 

Never once had you allowed yourself to be selfish and actually enjoy the potential opportunity of romance. Until now, and yet he still continues to act cold, pushing you away. 

The rain pours harder, soaking your clothes through to the bone, and you wish for it to absorb you completely. Mattheo finally notices the quieting of your pestering and turns to see you just standing there with an unreadable stare. His brows knit with concern, his earlier irritation washing away, and he blinks through the rain, feeling a wave of guilt.

“Ace.” He descends back down the stairs with a fasten pace, “Fuck- Don’t just stand there, merlin it's pouring.”

Your arms wrap around your body to provide any warmth physically and to your heart, lifting your head heavily as he approaches. “I said I was sorry.” The words whisper with the tone of desolation. Despite your anger, the guilt and worry break the barrier through the emotions you wear on your sleeves, knowing you never wished to hurt him. 

He sighs with realization, his habit of self protection had only projected an icy blast at you and messed with your head. He steps without hesitation; coming closer, wrapping you up into his arms, a much needed hug for the both of you. He aches, feeling you reciprocate, gently hugging him back, and he holds you a little tighter, having missed your touch. The way your hands grip with need the longer the two of you stay embraced, and your head snuggles into his chest. 

It's one of his favourite positions, his chin aligned with the crown of your head so perfectly. The way he feels ten times lighter now that you’re in his arms, and his eyes close, finally taking a breath of clean air. He gets lost in the moment, grateful for how you’re able to calm him so quickly. How you can take away all his anger at the snap of fingers, all his stress, all his pain even if momentarily just from the mere warmth of your touch. 

His peaceful tranquillity breaks by the shakes of your body, and he’s reminded that he is the one to have hurt you. The small sounds of your sniffles smothering into his chest vibrate through to his heart painfully, like an earthquake causing destruction to his protective walls.

Cold water continues to splatter, coating the wet clothes that cling to your bodies, the only warmth radiating from your chests pressed together as one. He rubs your back soothingly, allowing you to express his feelings in the only way he knows how to offer comfort. 

He opens his eyes, looking up at the thick darkness of the night; blinking back the rain that has no effort to cease. He can’t fully determine whether your body is still shaking from sadness or the cold. He sighs deeply, looking down at you, offering a smiling feeling as if things will calm back to normal at any moment. “Come on, we should get inside.” 

You shake your head stubbornly, not wanting the conversation to end here, and pull back with a deep frown. His smile does little to ease the pain and, in fact, bothers you at how nonchalant he’s acting. “No. it’s just a little rain, and it’s not hurting me nearly enough as your absence of an explanation.” 

He studies the wedge of separation you stick between the two of you, the reigniting of infuriated energy charging him like an electric circuit. Why won't you just drop this? He doesn’t answer you, his head turning, looking out over the castle grounds, afraid that if he opens his mouth, he’ll snap at you or, worse, reveal something vulnerable. 

You press onwards despite the tensing in his jaw, annoyed that he ignores you. “Don’t you trust me? Why can't you tell me the real reason? I just need to know why you hit Dean?”

“Please, just drop it Ace.” He grits out, trying to keep from raising his voice. His body still turned; his mind buzzing, humming with anxiety.

The lingering anger swarms to the surface at his refusal to even look at you, “I’ve been here for you through thick and thin and you can't even tell me this one simple thing?!” 

The clouds boom before a thicker onslaught of water spits down harder on the concrete steps, making it harder for him to hear you. Cowardly, he’s hoping if he ignores the issue, it will go away. But he knows you, and the determination you’re expressing only makes you stubborn like a mule, knowing you won't drop it till you’re satisfied with an answer. 

He turns glaring at you. “Let’s just go inside, Ace! It’s fucking thundering!” 

Apprehensively, you pause at his loud tone, knowing he’s beyond pissed. But the urgency for the truth pushes you onwards into your questioning, with your heart thinly stretched on the line. 

“I can't! I need to know!”  

He groans, “Why?! Can’t you just believe me and drop it? Like I already told you that shithead deserved what he g-”

“No! That's not good enough. I need more, a proper explanation Mattheo… and if you can’t tell me why.. I-I'll-”

“You’ll what?!” He snaps with an offensive scornful tone, so bitter he can taste the metal on his tongue for the attitude he’s giving. He blinks the water out of his eyes, shaking his wet hair that hangs soaked to his forehead. “You’ll leave?” 

He's ignoring how his mind is screaming to just tell you the truth, to finally bare his heart and soul to you, but the fear of rejection has him by the throat. At this point, though, he’s afraid it won't matter what he does. The outcome is hanging dangerously, that he might lose you either way. 

You swallow your turn not to say anything. You hadn’t wanted to actually say it, because it wasn't true. You didn’t want to leave, but you were feeling frustrated, hurt, betrayed. 

He continues walking closer with intense energy, the darkness of the atmosphere making him look intimidating than ever. “Gonna walk away? Had too much of me finally, huh!” 

His voice raises and you force yourself to hold still and not move from your spot, even when he gets right up in your face. You noticed the clear strain behind his words, and there's a flash of something more in his eyes other than anger, pain. 

“Please Matty-y just tell-” you whisper pleadingly. 

“Don’t. Don’t do that.. Stop looking at me like that.” He breathes out, hissing with venom and agony. 

“Like what?” Uttering the question feels risky, as if the answer will hold all the truth to how he feels. His face twists and turns as your mind spins with anxiety. This is it. 

“Just,” He groans with frustration, his voice raising again. “Like that! Fuck. Ace.” The lump in his throat grows, making him uncomfortable and his fists shake, clenching them to control the unravelling pressure.  

You blink back the swelling tears and take a braver step closer, “Tell me- god please Mattheo, I swear if this friendship means anything to you! You’ll fucking tell me.” The doubt creeps back in; Dean was wrong. He doesn’t see you the same. 

He’s cracking under the pressure and intensity of your gaze, seeing the fire burning like an inferno. There's no longer the usual glowing light he loves. How you stare at him like his answer will make all the difference to how you feel about him. But it's the way you mention your friendship with him that ultimately makes him combust, spilling his deepest, most impenetrable secret. 

“Because when you look at me like that, it makes me feel unworthy!” He spits, not pausing to even let you process the emotions coming out of him. “Like I’m breaking you apart from the inside and i-I can't handle that. I can't handle seeing you cry…or even when you look at me in anger. It makes me feel like a piece of shit for who I am.” 

His arms are up and his hands stress tangle through the wet locks in distress, “because you’re the best thing in my life! And yet I'm just scum on the bottom of your shoe.. And that motherfucker was right and I hate him for it, because I-i-I don't deserve you!.. Not your kindness… or attention… or friendship, and yet I'm still greedy. I still want more!”

He takes a step back, needing the distance from you. His chest heaves while he lowers his eyes at the pebbled ground, deep in realization that he’s slipped up. The silence between you two is killing him and he’s lost in his head with dread and doubt that he’s just gone and fucked up everything more. He raises his eyes with the little spirit he has left, eyes filled with great pain that knocks the air out of your lungs.

“You want… more.. With me?” The question is barely breathed out into the open space of increasing vulnerability. 

He licks his lips, contemplating his next words, taking his time to really study your appearance. He notes the lack of uncomfortableness. There's no show of disgust or rejection of his disclosure for how he feels. He’s surprised he’s still standing considering how his heart is beating, sure if it beats any more he’d need a replacement.

He swallows with force the last of his fear, feeling the lump drag down his throat and sink to the bottom of his pit. He nods, unable to utter anything else, allowing himself to be fully transparent for once. 

Tears of realization stream down your face as you comprehend his words, blending with the saturation on your face. He’s not even mad at you. He’s angry with himself. You know him well enough to spot that his eyes reveal his tell. He’s afraid. He wants more, even though he can’t admit it. Your heart skips a beat at the confession. 

He’s close enough to catch the onslaught of tears beginning and his face falls with fear. This is what he had apprehended. “Fuck!” He turns with anger, his fists clenching, his body shaking with regret and anguish. “Ace-e - why would you let me tell you this? Jesus!” He’s facing away from you to hold back his tears, his head clouded with assumptions of why you’re upset, all heading in the wrong direction. 

“W-what? Mattheo - no these are-” You step forwards reaching for him with a tender arm. 

“Dont. Don’t lie to me, Ace.” He shrugs your touch off, blocking his walls back up with ease. 

“Mattheo, I'm not lying! I’m not upset-” 

“Y/n I’m being serious.. I don’t want your pity-”

You scoff, offended, “Pity!? I've never once taken pity on you, Mattheo Riddle. Is that how you think I see you?” You blink back the tears as he turns again, fighting the frustrations to not just smack some sense into him. God, how oblivious is he to you. “I could never pity you. I respect you too much.”

“Respect me?! What in fuck for?” 

The water builds behind your eyes, blurring your vision amongst the rain, watching him express his insecurities. “B-because- because I fucking love you, you idiot!” 

There's a buzzing, fluttering feeling in his chest like all his nerves have lit on fire, and he blinks, frozen in shock. His chest rises and falls, shallow and slow, but his heart palpates rampaging behind it. The fuzzy feeling migrates around, running from his fingertips up to the apples of his cheeks like an unwelcoming chill as he attempts to process your words. 

Everything he thought he knew disintegrates out into the open space, like a gust of wind swept through his mind collecting all his stupid, suspecting doubts. You love him. Love. Love! The unfamiliar word bounces around his mind as he mulls over the possibilities of the meaning. His mouth runs dry despite the assault of rain, as he struggles to form any words. 

“I know this is hard, hell I can’t believe I just said that to you-”

You're shut up by the pleasant surprise of his lips smashing onto yours, with an effort of urgency urged behind the feel of his soft lips. His hands move to cup your face, your soaked face, the warmth of them rising a blush to your cheeks, as he holds them with tenderness. He kisses you with all the love he has, willing to give you every beat of his heart. He knows you already have it. It's always been yours. 

Truly, every piece of love for you is magnified by your relationship with him. Your generosity to accept him for who he is, to open your heart to him, even if he always believed it to be platonic. It was enough to grow his heart, and since then, it had always belonged to you. He pushes every ounce of emotion through, knowing it's easier to express than through words. 

“You-u..” He breathes, catching his breath as he pulls back, struggling to get the words out. 

“Actually?” He smiles in reassurance and hope glosses over his eyes. His chest vibrates as he chokes out a disbelieving laugh and his grin broadens. "You-u lo-” He can't even finish the sentence so choked up by all of this. 

A smile graces your face with wide, full cheeks that burn with happiness and you reciprocate his choked upness, feeling the tears start again. The way your head nods ridiculously fast, flicking your drenched hair in all directions, makes him chuckle and he cups your cheeks for fear of it flying off. “Not fucking with me are you now Ace, cuz I swear to god if you-” 

Leaning forwards you capture his lips effortlessly, now being the one to shut him up. It's sweet but passionate and he can’t get enough when you pull away. He threads a hand through his soaked hair in utter disbelief, his eyes returning to your loving ones. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long. Kiss the crap out of you over and over.” He rests his forehead against yours and reaches down for your hand.

He’s taking in everything you’ve just said, grasping for the same longing that's been sitting, waiting to be released between the two of you like a dam. His face lights, and a little smile curves onto his face, and for the first time he feels the words sitting with ease on his tongue. “You have no idea how in love I am with you. Ace, I’ve been in love with you since forever. Fuck i-just you know I'm not good with words, feelings, all that bullshit.” 

You try to fight the blush creeping up your neck, but the smile that appears beaming brightly back at him is impossible to suppress. You’re completely speechless, overwhelmed with euphoric feelings of contentment. Words you’d only dreamed of hearing, now confessed to you in the eye of a storm, and suddenly you’re laughing. “Are we insane?”

His eyes light at your happiness, but he raises a curious brow, not catching what you said at the sound of another boom. “Are- we…WHAT?”

The sound of your laughter bubbles at his adorable confusion. “It doesn’t matter! We should head inside now.” He seems to catch the end of that and nods hurriedly, reaching out to grab your arm, leading the two of you up and into the castle. 

Under the shelter of the overhanging archways he turns, grabbing you by your shoulders, “wait- just let me get something else off my chest first.” He swallows, pushing the wet strands back behind your ears, “I’m s-sorry.” 

You watch him feeling an immense depth of pride for him, and you smile softly, reassuring him to continue. “look.. I won't apologise for hitting Dean, I don’t regret that and- i-I can’t tell you it all yet, but he said something that cut deep. Whether or not the asshole meant it, I couldn’t take how it made me feel. But I am sorry I ruined your night at the gig. Fuck- I was angry and jealous and I really was trying to look out for you.”

You nod in understanding, accepting that he’s not ready to bear that much emotion in one night, and bring him in for a hug. “Matty.. You don’t know how much I appreciate you trying.” He clings to you, a desperate boy finally receiving the much needed love he had been deprived of for too long. “And-d you didn’t really ruin my night. I wanted to go with you first, anyway. But I got in my head - the doubt i-i just didn’t want to ruin us.”

He pulls back cupping your cheeks, “god we’re stupid aren’t we?” He smiles amused with the obliviousness and blindness you both held for one another. “I’m just glad I didn’t lose you.”

You shake your head, “you never would have. I was bluffing completely.. I couldn’t handle being without you, Mattheo.”

He grins, leaning down to press another soft passionate kiss to your lips, “and you couldn’t have lost me even if you tried Ace. You’re literally iron cast around my heart. The knot is too tight. You’d have to break me just to free the attachment I have to you.” His eyes are sincere and hold so much emotion you’re verging on tears again. 

“Okay, ah let's not cry again. I wasn’t lying about not being able to handle that. Let's go back to my dorm. Come on.” His arm guides you wrapping around your waist, a stark contrast to the way his arm usually drapes over your shoulder casually. He helps you walk back to his dorm with care and compassion, the energy between you a mixture of excitement and lightness, the weight of the confession lifted. 

He helps you into his dorm, closing the door and gazes at you with pure happiness before searching his dorm for some towels. A room you’ve stood in many times before but never in this sense, and just being here with all your feelings out in the open makes your body prick with anticipation. 

You stand watching him shivering a little, and begin to unstick your thick sweater, clinging to your soaked through shirt, stripping it up with difficulty while Mattheo searches through his draws for some clean clothes. The head of the material sticks trapping your head and you groan, frustrated, trying to pull it off, catching Mattheo’s attention. He peers over his shoulder, laughing at the awkward situation he’s spotted you in. 

His gaze drops and his eyes darken shamelessly, admiring how your shirt clings to your body, accentuating your chest. He licks his lips, letting his thoughts run wild for once with no guilt, and stops what he was doing walking closer. His hands graze your waist, letting you know of his proximity as he speaks with a low husk in his tone. “Lemme help Ace.” 

He slides his hands gently up your sides till he pushes the sleeves of the sweater up, freeing your arms before helping squeeze your head through the hole. The sweater drops to the floor; the moment becoming charged with heightened tension and desperate looks reflected in both of you. 

His fingers descend, tracing down your sides in slow strokes that makes your heart leap your full attention on him. You exhale small shallow breaths, feeling your insides squirm under his intense stare, not daring to say a word. His hands wrap around the curve of your waist, tugging you inwards till you press fully up against him, giving you his signature boyish grin. 

“That's better.” His eyes flicker between the desperation dripping in your eyes to the soft parting of your lips, waiting with anticipation. 

His head dips, brushing his lips back against yours, and he whispers with the weight of a man ready to feast on his deepest desires. “Ace..you know I want you… don't you?” He’s so close that when he licks his lips, his tongue grazes your lower lip with the subtlest of touches and he relishes in the sucking in of your breath. Barely able to hold back the teasing smirk at your reaction, he presses his lips to your cheek in a gentle, tender kiss instead. 

You nod, your chest rising and falling with intense yearning, whispering back, “Yes.. I know now.”

“Good. That’s good.” He presses another kiss travelling up your cheek, sparking the heat to rise, flushing the skin a deep red. He grins sincerely, “you look so pretty when you blush.”

You swallow, feeling your body alight with need, buzzing with electricity that runs down to the tips of your toes. You wonder if he knows how aroused you feel right now. The rest of your clothes are slick still with rainwater, but you already know the puddle forming in your panties is definitely from the heat. You attempt to exhale quiet bated breaths throughout your nose, unable to trust your mouth to open, uncertain what kind of animalistic sound would fall out. 

Mattheo might be oblivious to love, but he’s a keen observer in the act of sexual intimacy. It’s as if his eyes are an x-ray lust detector. He knows all the tells of an aroused woman. “So pretty Ace, fuck..you’re making me want to kiss you senseless.” His voice strains with restraint. He’s still holding onto some concern, not wanting to freak you out with all his intense energy waiting to consume you. 

The struggle in his tone only makes you want him more and your eyes lift upwards, filled with hungry persuasions. Uttering a simple, “please.” 

The moment you plead with those sweet eyes, all his control gets thrown out the window. Taking your jaw in his hand, he leans back in to kiss you. His lips melting onto yours, the two of your lips colliding in synchronization. His hands cup the nape of your head, tilting it back, and diving deeper, his tongue pushes, seeking entrance as kindly as he can be while he fights the pure animalistic hunger to devour you urgently. 

You moan softly, allowing him access, the two of your tongues dancing with one another like a fervent tango. He mumbles softly against them, “Do you know how long I craved to feel these lips, Ace?” 

A deep flush grows on your cheeks and you breathe heavily, gazing up, feeling his lips kiss along the side of your neck. “How long?” You ask breathlessly. 

He chuckles at your response and interest. “too fucking long. I always knew that you’d taste this sweet.” The soft sighs and hums that vibrate out of you have his mind spinning and he presses his lips harder onto your skin, needing to entice more out of you. He pulls you closer to him before he’s back, kissing your lips, engulfing you completely. 

The two of you continue to make out, still standing, before his fingers slip under your wet shirt and he hisses at the cold contact. “Merin, you're still freezing.” 

“I’m okay.” You reassure him, shivering from his touch. 

He smiles, noticing the shiver. “Yeah?”

You nod, promising him, finding it sweet how he’s concerned about you. Sliding your own hands up his arms, you find solace cupping the back of his neck, pulling him down, needing another kiss. He falls back into the growing pattern, not wanting to miss even a single moment of your touch. 

“I know a way you can warm me up, though.” 

His eyes flutter open and he gazes at you, his eyes glistening with similar intention. “Oh, yeah?” He flashes an amused smile, intrigued by your flirtatious energy. “What might that be, Ace?” 

Biting your lip with a teasing smile of your own, you step back, pulling him with you onto the bed, causing him to chuckle happily. His arms flex, holding himself up from crushing you with his weight, and his head dips. “Fuck, you look so sexy when you bite that.” 

Your face contorts with a soft whine at the flustering compliment and he grins, more pleased with your reaction. His lips reclaim yours once more with delicate urgency, and you match it quickly getting lost, diving your hands into his curls. Having only stroked his hair tenderly, your fingers move with eagerness, tugging and pulling desperately to get a sound out of him. 

His hands trace you with the utmost respect and value, different from his experiences with other girls. There's reasoning and depth behind every touch. Enjoying every sweet moment, being able to explore every curve he’s only dreamed about touching. He’s finally able to hold you the way he's always wanted, no longer needing to hide behind his fragile vulnerability in the dark. He's finally giving you all of him under the limelight, and he hopes to show you how he’s felt this whole time. 

Mattheo groans at each tug of hair, lowering himself to keep kissing you, his hands sliding under your shirt again, feeling the way your body contracts. The muscles twitch with sensitivity and he swallows your gasp, grinning before pushing dominantly his tongue back in. His fingers peel the wet shirt up and over your bra. 

He sits up ditching his own shirt, and your hands roam over his chest, feeling the groves of his past scars, sending shivers down his back. He watches gazing at your eyes and how they view him. You already know about the meaning behind them, but now you get to love them, and he bites his lip to not get choked up at how you look at him with love in your eyes. 

He grabs your wrists, gently kissing both of them before he pins them above your head, shocking a gasp out of you. He grins, satisfied by your reaction as he shifts, sliding his hands upwards, intertwining your fingers together in an intimate hand hold.

“I’ll go gentle on you...just for today, yeah.” Another cheeky grin flashes your way, unaware of the concealed experience of your sexual life. 

You laugh at his sweet reassurance, squeezing his hands, loving the feeling of holding onto him. “I’m really not as innocent as you believe, Matty.” 

He raises a brow with surprised curiosity. “Are you telling me I’m not about to be your first Ace?” 

The silence confuses him, for when he looks down at you, there's a flash of guilt in your eyes. “I’m not?” He feels a wave of jealousy flow through his veins at the thought of you with someone else, though he knows he has no reason to. He leans down, carrying on his sensual onslaught, kissing up behind your ear. He nips it gently as he whispers sultry, “really?” 

Feeling your head nod, he lets out a tiny groan, mostly at himself for taking too fucking long to get his shit together. “That is a shame, baby.” 

Turning your head to lock with his sight, reassuring him, “It means more with you, though, Matty.” 

His eyes soften, giving a curt nod. He can see the sincerity and honesty in your eyes and he offers a smile back, pecking you. He knows it's true, as it is for him. “The same goes for me.” He cups your cheeks, pressing his forehead to yours, “This isn't a one time thing, okay? You mean so much to me, Ace, and never again do I want to make you feel how I did before.” 

His eyes hold so much truth and devotion that you can feel your eyes beginning to water. That is before his hips shift, pressing ever so subtly down, getting into a grinding rhythm as he distracts you from the raw moment with kisses.

He almost jumps out of his skin when your bold hand explores down south, not expecting you to act so brazenly. He shifts, rolling onto his side, allowing your hand to slip inside his pants and wrap around his cock. He can’t help but buck his hips into your palm at the feel of your hand making contact.

“Fuck-Ace.” His eyes droop, looking at you shifting onto your side too, your tits squishing together in the constraints of your bra, his mouth gaping letting out a hitched shaky breath. 

Capturing your lips once more, moaning into your mouth, he drowns in the pleasure of how your hand increasingly pumps his cock up and down. He murmurs, resting his forehead against yours with knitted brows, “oh - yeah, ace like that.” 

His own hands creep and unbutton your jeans, pushing them down with a bit of urgency. “This okay?” 

You nod and ask back, “You? This okay?” 

He nods, kissing your cheek and down your neck, “Yes.. better than okay- your hand feels so good.” 

You tug your jeans down, kicking them off revealing your panties and he groans, peering down, before he slides a hand rubbing your thigh and tracing his fingers teasingly over the skin as they itch with temptation, brushing gently over your core. He rubs, applying slow pressure over your clothed covered clit and runs a hand through your hair, tugging it back to kiss you. He loves hearing your little sounds muffled into his mouth at the extra sensation you’re feeling.

“So pretty..you sounds so hot.” 

You whine sensitively and he swears he’s sent to heaven at the harmonic pitch of your voice. His cock twitches, pulsing in your hand to the sound. Your actions slow focusing on your pleasure and for once he doesn’t mind not being the centre of attention. 

He watches with an intense focus full of desire at how your pretty eyes can’t handle staying open, fluttering. The steady rise of your chest increases with every bit of pressure he rubs tauntingly slow. He can't wait any longer, maneuvering his hand under your panties, sliding one finger in, his skin saturated instantly in your juices. 

His own breathing congeals to short tiny gasps, eyes darkening, consumed with lustral appreciation. “Soakin Ace. You've been this wet the whole time?” 

His question, which seems sincere, causes a flustered reaction and you moan again, grabbing hold of the sheets. He takes it as a yes. 

Soft moans of satisfaction infiltrate the room at each hum of your lips. He can feel just how much you’re enjoying this, welcoming him to do what he wants. The trust you have to know what he’s doing is appreciated, and he hums himself in arrogance. Every reaction, sound, movement - watching as your hips begin to jut slightly seek more friction only fills him with a deep pride. You're his girl now, and he’ll never disappoint you again. 

His lips move peppering kisses down your neck, nipping at the skin, seeking the achievement of leaving marks of purple hues. “You like that, yeah?”

His finger protrudes deeper, gaining a steady pace, and his eyes flicker away from decoration markings on your neck to your legs spreading wider for his hand. He needs more, hearing every gasp and the sweet moan exhaling from you is pure bliss, and makes him feel on cloud nine.

He hisses gently at how your hand involuntarily squeezes the nearest thing, which happens to be his cock still. It's torture, as you're so focused on him, just pleasing him to even notice the subtle teasing you’re providing. “Sweetheart..” His tone is gritted with bated breath. “F-fuck, please either let go or do something with your hand.” 

You moan at the pet name and begin pumping him again, trying to multitask, your brows frowning at his addition of another finger. “Ah- sorry Matty.. I’m trying…just feels s’good!”

He grins at your struggle to speak. “Yeah, feels good?” His fingers meticulously move with skill, slick knuckles deep in your cunt, before he curls them, scraping the spot to make your back arch. 

There’s a string of whines as your hips buck up into his hand, “Uh! Yes!” 

“Yeah, you want another? Want me to stretch you out…wanna be ready for me, don’t you, Ace?” 

While his words are forward and prompting for more, he doesn’t make any moves to do anything until you give him confirmation. He’s continuously checking for your assurance, making sure this is what you want. He just wants to bring you pleasure, watch you get off riding slowly onto his fingers. How your back is arching and your muttering soft pleads, all for him. What's yours is his right. 

You nod desperately, “Please Matty!” 

He obliges, pushing in a third with ease, your walls contracting to fit him snug inside your drenched pussy. The warmth that evades his fingers has him groaning, listening to a new wave of mews slur out of you. “Fuck-that’s it. Such a good girl, baby.” 

He bites back the small protest when you release his cock and grip his arm instead, the indents of your nails digging into his skin, stinging but filling him with a possessive power. He wants your marks on him as much as he wants to leave them on you. To combine your bodies as one and intertwine in a way that goes beyond physical. 

Pure bliss overcomes your face and you turn, opening your eyes, glossy with need. Bringing his head down in urgency, you plead. “Matty…Matty, I want more.. Please, I don’t wanna cum unless it’s in you.” 

“Shit-t yes yeah?”

His fingers slowly drag, retracting out, pulling a needy whine from the back of your throat, and you nod urgently. He gives his fingers a quick lick, not wanting to waste a single drop of you, watching focused how you shuffle out of your panties. 

He shifts sitting up and starts removing his own wet pants with great difficulty. The jeans are heavy and compressed to his thighs tight, causing them to stick, his groin constricted pushing snuggly against the material of his unbutton pants. “Shit- fuck, these are fucking tight now.”

Wandering his gaze at your movements, he watches frozen, disbelieving the vision before him. Sitting up onto your elbows, you unclip your bra, freeing your tits and exposing yourself fully. His pants sit halfway down his legs, his jaw tensing, eyes gazing with enamour at your bare body. He blinks again, swearing this has to be one very good sex dream. 

“Fucking Salazar.” He takes in your body as you lay waiting patiently. His lustful gaze only makes you that much hotter. He leans against the bedpost, unable to drag his eyes away. “Ace?”

“Yeah?” 

“Just checking this is real.” He finishes pulling his pants down, almost tripping over them with excitement that draws a giggle out of you. The sound of your laugh shakes him out of his daze, and he grins cheekily, continuing his mission of ridding his clothes as fast as possible. “God, I love your laugh.. gonna make me cum right now.”

Your laugh grows in ecstatic shock at his vulgar words. “Mattheo!”

“Oh yeah, look at you practicing screaming already.” He grins, finding your flustering adoring. He frees his cock, admiring the absolutely thirsty look painting your face. He can’t help how his mind backtracks to your admission of not being a virgin, and he lets out a speck of jealousy. “Tell me really, am I bigger?” 

“Bigger?” Only just are your eyes able to drift away and up with a furrowed brow. 

“Yeah.. Then the fucker who stole your virginity.” 

You can’t help the pleased laugh breaking out at his not-so-subtle jealousy, trying to hold back the smug attitude. “Seriously, you're getting jealous now, while I'm baring not only my body but my heart and soul to you.” Lifting a feigned unimpressed eyebrow, you watch with astonishment at how his face changes, expressing a small sheepish smile. 

You beckon him closer with a finger, welcoming the confidence flowing through you. “Come here.” 

As if pulled by a magnet, he crawls back down, hovering above, his eyes gleaming enticingly and the deep inhale of need. The way you’re looking at him as if he holds all your answers, holds all the warmth for you and that he’s the only one to bring you happiness prick at his skin, feeling nervous. But then you smile and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and whisper an adorable, “Hi.”

He grins back, finding himself relaxing just at the mere sight of those brimming cheeks and whispers back, “Hey gorgeous.”

His hands roam, maneuvering over your body and pushing your thighs apart. He notes how your eyes fall, breath spiking with anticipation. “Hey, look at me.” His voice is a soft, strained whisper, on the break of losing it altogether as the head of his tip drags through your folds. “You know I love your eyes. It's one of your favourite features of mine.” 

He’s never done this before. Been so openly intimate, especially as he’s preparing to fuck someone. He nudges the tip a little further in just gently, a low rumble etching out with hoarse feralness. “I want your eyes on me the whole time, ok Ace.” 

Meeting his eye, losing yourself drowning in warm pools of brown neediness, listening to his gentle but essential request, you nod in confirmation. “I will. I never want to turn my back on you again. I love your eyes too much, too.” 

His cheeks are hurting from how much they’ve stretched into a smile tonight. “God, you’re perfect, aren’t you?” He captures your lips in a short but passionate kiss.

“Just tell me if it's too much, yeah.” He warns concerningly, biting back the desire to lose control and wreck you completely. At just your nod he utters, looking back up, “words Ace.” 

“I will.. yeah, Matty just please..”

“Good girl, such sweet manners.” He grins, licking his lip as he grips his cock, nudging it further in between your folds, his eyes fixed on the way your pretty pussy embraces the head so perfectly, like it was made just for him. A glottal groan of relief passes through his lips and he thrusts his hips gently, his cock sliding deeper into the tightness of your warm walls. 

“Oh-f-fuck.” He drops his head, pressing his forehead already beginning to bare a sheen of sweat onto yours, feeling the gaping of your own mouth. The sound that pulls from you is sinful, a delicious lewd moan that makes him grip your hips with firmness to not fall apart so quickly. 

“God-yeah…You feel so fucking’good.”

At the flexible way your legs bend back towards your chest naturally, he groans breathlessly, taking it as a sign you’re okay for him to pick up the pace. His hips thrust, driving into you with a satisfying rhythm, the moans continuing to tumble from your lips. 

“That’s it… you sound so pretty, baby.” He rasps low and husky. He’s looking at everything, watching the pleasure etched on your face while you lay with your eyes scrunched closed, absorbing it all. He flickers his eyes back and forth from how his cock slides between your folds captivatingly and up to your pretty blessed out face. Your mouth gaping as streams of whiney moans flows out, your head thrown back in ecstasy. “Fuck, I don't know where to look baby…look so good taking me.”

Clutching onto him with a grip of iron, nails pinching into his skin as he cages your body in. His biceps bulge under the movement of holding his weight above you. He drops his head into the crook of your neck and he groans, feeling your fingers dig into his hair, listening to your babbled praises. “Matty- ah feel s’good.” 

He roams his hands, stretching your legs wider as he presses his palm down to stabilize himself, his hips vigorously bucking with the strength of a raging bull. He doesn’t know how he told himself he could go easy, with the way your pussy squeezes his cock feels as good as pure heroine. He plants kisses on your neck and turns your head towards him, pressing his lips back onto yours. 

He’s in love with the way you feel, the way you sound, your touches roaming his body, switching from gentle caresses to carnal scratches. He feels whole with you, intertwined as bursts of passion taint your tongues, each sound harmonising together heavenly. “Ace.. fuck, you’re so perfect.” 

You nod, trying to form a solid thought in response, but the way the tip of his cock is gliding so effortlessly into your cervix only makes you chant his name, your voice breaking with a high pitch strain.

It’s one of the most beautiful things he’s ever witnessed and he kisses your ear, whispering sweet nothings into them, encouraging your onboarding orgasm. “Mmm yeah, cum for me baby, so fuckin pretty wanna watch you fall apart.”

Your climax breaks, spots of white light blurring your vision and you tighten your arms around him, clinging to the one thing grounding you from the overwhelming pleasure. His head lifts, watching with pure delight at the way your body convulses, glistening with sweat like an ethereal being. His body shakes as his hips jutter following you. Broken groans mumble against the skin of your neck as he spills his seed into you entirely. 

He huffs a tired pant, not wanting to move, for he’s never felt so whole as right now. He murmurs softly, pressing a sloppy kiss to your ear, “s'good..the best ace. I could live in your pussy, just fall asleep and never wake up.”

You catch your breath, letting out a shaky laugh that makes your cunt squeeze his cock, releasing another deep groan. He shifts his cock aching sensitivity and pulls out rolling to lie beside you, wrapping an arm around your neck to tuck you into his side.

He rests his chin on top of your head. “You okay?” 

Nodding with droopy eyes, you plant a kiss on his collarbone and try to calm your mind and absorb the reality of what’s just happened. “Yeah..you're definitely bigger.” You grin answering his earlier question. You blink, gazing up at him with nothing but love and a rapturous glow on your face. “but I’m ok.. im great.” 

He chuckles warmly, not even caring to be cocky anymore. He tangles his hand into the still wet knot of your locks. “fuck yeah you are..and your super sure you're real?”

You pinch his thigh, making a sudden squeal come out of his mouth. “Alright! Aight, no need to seek revenge on me - I already apologised.” He jests cupping your head in a firm hold like one of his usual headlocks, but only plants a soft kiss on the top of your head. 

“I am sorry, though, and I mean it.” He shifts so your face is parallel to his and he admires the returning light that shines back into your eyes, a warmth that lights the darkness inside him. He brushes your check with his thumb, over the red hues adorning your cheeks, evidence of your spent state. 

“I may be a twat a good portion of the time, and this-”, he gestures between the two of you. “Still scares me, so fucking much.” His words are raw and burn with a vulnerability that still sits unfamiliar in his throat. “You’re truly an enigma. I still don’t know what in the hell you see in me?”

You smile, eyes brimming with the utmost love. "I see everything you don’t.” 

It’s the truth, and it always has been. The way Mattheo makes you feel is frightening, electrifying, like you’re caught in a storm and he’s your saving grace, parting the seas, giving you everything you need. How his eyes shine, reflecting your clear emotion, makes your heart beat with the force of a thousand drums stimulating the rest of your body.

A warm buzz vibrates between the two of you, knowing that all along, everything you were both missing was right there. The notion that you'll both be alright, swaddled in the new cocoon of your relationship, both finally receiving the love you deserve together.

This work is my own, please don't copy or claim. Any and all interactions are appreciated, thank you for reading! ty again @amongemeraldclouds for your love and support! couldn't have done this without you!

Navigation. Masterlist. Mattheo Riddle Masterlist.

©️pizzaapeteer 2025

[sxorpiomooon]

What does your 30 year old self wants to say to you?

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Pile 1-

This is the third time that I'm writing for this pile, the first two times Tumblr glitched and removed everything. You guys will be the first in your family to do or achieve something big. 

One of the biggest lesson that you might have to learn in this life is to always be prepared of letting things go and start anew, from a clean slate. Some of you are stuck in a toxic relationship or connection that you realise that you have to let go off but just cannot seem to do so. Your thirty year old self is telling you that you need to learn to ask for help when needed. There are people I keep hearing adults around you that can help you out only if you let them. For some reason I keep having visions of Hayley and Claire from modern family? Yk how in real life how the actress who plays claire helped out hayley to get out of an abusive relationship? It's like that I feel. Scott street keeps on playing in my head. Be impulsive and be defensive perhaps you need to let your anger take over you to remind yourself of who you truly are. My pile one please do ask for help when needed. For the rest of you, your thirty year old self is telling you that in order to bring in the new good stuff you need to first make space for it by removing all the bad stuff that is no longer serving you. Be brave you need to reminded of who you truly are and no one else can do it better than someone near you who truly loves you.

Pile 2-

Learn how to balance and prioritise because the moment you learn these skills you will be able to survive anywhere in any condition. "You are not wasting time but opportunities" don't let opportunities pass you by because you feel as if it's not the right time or you don't have enough time because there is no such thing as having enough time or there being a right time. Time is only right when you make it so. I keep having visions of pink pilates aesthetic yall need to learn a skill that will keep you grounded be it yoga or pilates anything that will help you in keeping yourself grounded. You have to learn how to chill I keep feeling as if this is my workoholic pile. Some of you might even feel as if you are doing nothing in your life and fear that it will remain like this only however let me assure you that is not the case. I see you will be very very booked and busy in the future. I feel like that is also what your future self is telling you? That you have time now so do enjoy like don't waste it sitting in front of a screen stressed out. You have enough time now because you won't in the future, make full use of it.

Pile 3-

That's crazy the first thing that came to my mind even before I pulled the cards was "slow and steady wins the race" and I'm seeing the colour teal and peacock green alot. When I pulled the cards I feel as if this is directly being channeled from your future self to you as in this is actually your future self going "what I'd like to say to her blahblah" and that's what I'm channeling for you. I think you are sitting in front of a shop or a restaurant idk that's white and it's late night and it's windy you are wearing black you kinda look like that sister from the new YOU season? Anyways yes and I see a diamond somewhere maybe it's a bracelet or a necklace one of these and this is a question that your friend has asked you. The overall energy feels very very grateful and nostalgic. Your future self is speaking in a very grateful and nostalgic manner I heard bulgari? Anyways, they want you to be careless and very action oriented I heard "inaction is also an action" and "might as well just do it" they want you to go on alot of trips and basically say yes to adventures. I feel like this pile might not have much fun and might just try to stay in their comfort zone. The kind to decide to study instead of going out and partying and your future self wants you to know that you can do both. Party on you by charli xcx started playing. They also want you to spend your money and work hard I feel like they just want you to let lose and feel free for once. That everything will be ok and working hard doesn't mean that you have to devoid yourself of fun. You can have fun and still work hard. Man I feel like crying this feels so personal I feel like this pile will also be very defensive to my claim and say that oh they cannot afford to have fun etc etc but I think you can, every once in a while no matter the circumstances and this is not me saying this but you only so think about it

Pile 4

There are going to be alot of people who wouldn't want you to succeed, there will be alot of gossip and alot of betrayal but none of that is going to stop you from achieving what you have been working hard to get. The answer is pretty straightforward with this one honestly alot of relatives and friends around you will plot against you and throw dirt on your name but none of them will stand a chance against you. Alot will come, alot will go but only you will remain. You do not have to defend yourself verbally every time just focus on working hard. You'll see how as the time passes all of them will fall on their own and instead of you all the other people will be defending your name and honour. I heard aries and scorpio. Long short story by Taylor Swift pay attention to the lyrics. Do not indulge in petty gossip or with petty people I promise you one day the entire public will chant your name. This pile wants public recognition and it will get exactly that but in even bigger numbers that they except to. 

[bengiyo]

Heesu in Class 2: Maybe It’s Time to Stop Calling Myself a BL Viewer

After finishing Heesu in Class 2, it’s been surprising to feel like I’m in the minority for enjoying it. We’ve seen a great deal of concerted posting from fans of the webtoon about how this show betrayed its source material with its adaptation changes. Over the last few weeks, I’ve read the original webtoon to gather my own thoughts. After reading through @my-rose-tinted-glasses post on why this project didn’t work for her, I decided to sit with it for a while. I then came across this tweet from Dr. Thomas Baudinette:

I respect Dr. Baudinette’s academic interest in the genre and the useful insider insight he brings to the table. However, I will say plainly that I think this is a grossly disingenuous take, grounded in the idea that stories about queer romance take precedence over other queer stories. Additionally, it deeply misreads the adaptation choices and insinuates that a queer show that includes heterosexuality in it is somehow betraying the BL audience. There’s a lot to unpack here, but I will say plainly that I will go back to just being a queer cinephile who dabbles in BL instead of advocating for BL if this is who we are.

I am a queer person here for stories about queer truth. BL is a romance genre. While I respect BL viewers who are here to get their feelings from swoony moments, I cannot abide the presumption that a story that is inherently about the coming out experience somehow let its source material down for maintaining that connection. Every year we get into a big fight about what is or isn’t BL (see: 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us, Love in the Big City, What Did You Eat Yesterday?, etc.), often arguing that BL is a branding term used to get romance viewers to show up and support queer works. I think it’s fine enough to argue that Heesu in Class 2 isn’t a BL because it uses Korean drama frameworks (@lurkingshan) for its story instead of sandblasting you in the face with pop music as two boys stare at each other, but I think there’s real value in what the show is doing for mainstream viewers.

I’ve avoided discussing the webtoon too much in my commentary, but now that I have read it I will say firmly that this would have sucked as a TV show. We know that about 40-50% of the shows we get each year are based on their source material. The webtoon is adorable and well-intentioned. It’s also a very simple narrative in which we are primarily in Heesu’s point of view, and any time we leave his point of view it’s to see only what other people are thinking about him. In my opinion, simpler narratives like the Heesu webtoon work best as films and not as dramas. 

We recently went through this with Living With Him, in which a really short manga got stretched to eight episodes and had to add contrivances to the middle to pad out the time that eventually hurt the core narrative. Thai BL is rife with secondary, tertiary, and quaternary couples to pad out time to meet the long run time demands of the airing schedule. When you’re adapting a fairly simple story, you either have to add depth or bloat. Oftentimes we get both. In the case of Heesu, it’s clear that they were only adapting the first season of the webtoon, and so they added depth.

The constant refrain from detractors of this webtoon is that it deprioritized the queer characters and their narrative in favor of straight narratives. I wholeheartedly disagree. Every single straight story in this show (and the gay ones) are meant to add context to the queer struggles Hee Su and Seung Won face, from Ji Yu and Chan Young to all three of his sisters.

Ji Yu’s music arc hearkens to the queer fear of being public with yourself and facing judgment and scrutiny. Chan Young’s tennis arc features real parental abandonment consequences that many a queer person fears. Hee Sin exemplifies how easy it is to fall for people and also deal with the constant rejection of most people not being into you (because they’re straight). Hee Jae exemplifies how toxic a relationship with your best friend can be when the romantic feelings aren’t fully reciprocal. Hee Yeong shows us what it means to be brave and face your friend after you’ve let them down romantically. Ho Sik highlights how easy it is for straight people to express and pursue their romances, and then be public with them. None of these plots exist in a vacuum; they’re meant to add context to the tension between Hee Su and Seung Won.

On the queer front, the show expanded on the initial lesbian advice plotline as a way for Hee Su to open the discussion about queerness with his siblings. The look shared between the sisters, their careful responses, and the way they treat him in the final episode after Hee Su comes out to Hee Sin shows that they talked to each other. Hee Sin clearly pulled on her prior knowledge when she insisted to Hee Su that she still loves him. Hee Jae, the grumpiest sister, was especially direct about praising Hee Su when he offered to help them take Hee Yeong to the airport. Hee Yeong told him plainly that he must remember that she is always on his side and will support him. Seung Won’s mom acknowledged that her own coming out affected him, and let him decide how open to be about his family.

The coming out sequence with Hee Sin was so powerful. He made it clear that this isn’t a gay-for-you situation. He said plainly that his crushes are on guys, and will probably always be on guys. Hee Sin’s response took me back to this incredible scene from The Fosters, in which Lena’s dad apologizes to her for saying “I still love you.” He rejects it as something horrible, in which you confirm to your kid that you could possibly stop loving them. He says he wishes he had instead said, “Thank you for telling me something so important about yourself, and I can’t wait to meet the person you want to share your life with.” 

I’m also annoyed about the insistence that the straights were given priority in this narrative in which everyone gets about the same level of on-screen intimacy. This is a show that managed to avoid getting an R rating, which means that it’ll be accessible to a much wider range of viewers without needing additional parental controls. The straights getting time means that when the gays throw the ease at which they pursued romance back in their faces, it’s actually grounded in events that transpired in the narrative. I will also say that I did NOT like the way Jiyu and Chanyoung meddled with Heesu in the webtoon, and thought conspiring with Seung Won was not kind to Heesu. I like that the drama instead uses their stories to support the queer themes as Ji Yu directly supports Seung Won.

I’d also like to say that all the Chan Young commentary troubles me. Hee Su has been in love with this boy for ten years. I actually think the show needs to spend time fleshing him out into a real person for the audience to understand why Hee Su likes him so much. He’s charming and friendly. He’s kind and thoughtful. He wants to help the people he cares about. He also trusts Hee Su implicitly. 

I do not blame him for being overwhelmed and surprised when Hee Su suddenly confessed to him, and I think there is real value in him botching that moment. So many viewers who might not have spent a lot of time thinking about how they would handle queer people coming out to them will benefit from seeing Chan Young flub that moment. What’s more important is that he did eventually talk to Hee Su and begin to repair the break in their friendship. It isn’t about being right every single time; it’s about always doing the work required to make things right. 

Finally, I really loved that Hee Su got to be mad at Seung Won for confusing him all this time. It was fun to see Hee Su, who I think was way out of line for always interfering in Chan Young’s life, face the reality that he had also been subject to that kind of behavior. This worked so well for me because we understood that what Seung Won liked so much about Hee Su was how warm and open he was. I will have more to say in the future about how many shows we’ve already had this year reject one-sided pining as inherently pure.

In the end, it’s just a really dissonant experience for me to see such a kind show getting such an energetic negative response. Like anyone else who’s watched over 300 BLs since 2016, I like seeing cute boys kiss each other and make face as much as anyone else. However, if we’re unable to appreciate using a webtoon with clear ideas about the difficulty of coming out when you’re in love with a friend in a format that far more viewers are used to, I don’t think I can rock with this anymore. I can’t even find myself associated with the kinds of people who would have called Degrassi homophobic because it wasn’t exclusively gay. 

[v4mptel]

Break. Bite. Bang.

pairings: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

summary: What happens when you persuade your boyfriend to try the break bite bang challenge with you?

nsfw!

“Come on Toruuu. Just one bite, for me?” you pleaded softly as you looked at your boyfriend with your best puppy eyes. Satoru looked at the square piece of milk chocolate you were holding as if inspecting it. It was smooth apart from the diagonal line that connected the opposite corners of the square which implied that you had to cut it in half and share it with your partner.

This specific chocolate was viral on the internet, you'd seen it! Every couple would split it in half, eat it, and then they would fuck like they were in heat. It mesmerised you really, how a small piece of chocolate could be such a strong aphrodisiac. From the little research you'd done before you decided to buy it, it didn't always work but when it did? Oh boy, you'd read one comment saying it had been the best sex they ever had!

So it wouldn't hurt to try it just once right? Just out of curiosity. It'd be a fun little experiment.

Satoru sighed as he leaned back on the couch, his gaze now locking with yours. “Do we always have to try every little thing you see on the internet?” he questioned in a calm tone, with a hint of playfulness as the slightest smirk formed on the corner of his mouth. One of his hands toying with a lock of your soft hair.

You giggled softly as you straddled his lap, his hands instinctively resting on your hips. You smiled playfully at him. “Yeah because I'm your girlfriend and you love me?” you presented the chocolate to him again.

“Baby you're not even sure if it's gonna wor–” you cut him off, silencing him with a quick peck on his soft lips. “You won't know if you don't try it.” you practically shoved the chocolate into his face.

Satoru sighed in defeat. “Alright pretty, let's do it.” he gave a gentle squeeze on your hips before gripping the chocolate by the opposite corner you were holding. You both cut it in half at the same time and now each one of you held a sweet little triangle.

You both ate it. “Do you feel anything weird?” you mumbled impatiently as you kept chewing. Satoru shook his head. “It's probably gonna take some time to work, if it works.”

One hour passed and nothing happened. You eventually gave up on your hopes pouting in that adorable manner that Satoru loved. With a soft, teasing “I told you so.” he picked you up heading straight to the bedroom. It was time for bed anyway and you slept like a baby in his warm embrace.

–

When you stirred awake again it was still nighttime. The first thing you felt was the way your body was burning up. Your sensitive nipples were now hard enough to pierce through your thin cotton sleep shirt. Your pussy drenched with your slick juices, throbbing with need.

As you slowly opened your eyes and you came to your senses, that's when you felt Satoru's grip on your waist tightening. That's when you felt his hard cock grinding on your ass from behind. That's when you heard how whiny and how needy his moans were, right next to your ear.

“F-fuck…mmph! Baby? Please pretty, please wake up I– nngh! Need you…” he pleaded almost breathlessly as he kept grinding his dick between your ass cheeks.

And when you turned to face him over your shoulder? You swore the delicious sight could make you come untouched. More slick escaped your pussy as you saw his desperate gaze. His eyes were teary, his face and chest flushed with a beautiful rosy pink. Snowy hair all sweaty and sticking to his forehead.

You grinded back into him, a soft moan escaping your lips as your need increased by the second. “Toruuu! I think it- hmmp! It w-worked- ohh!”

“Ohh, baby…worked is an understatement. I'm so hard it fucking h-hurts!” he whined.

“Please Toru, please fuck–need you in me!” you pleaded with equal desperation. You didn't have to ask twice. In a matter of seconds your panties and pajama shorts were off, discarded somewhere on the floor joining your boyfriend's clothes.

His muscular arms held you from your soft plush thighs. In one hard, deep thrust he slammed home. “Baby!” his high pitched moans echoed all over the house as he thrusted into your tight heat again and again. The feeling of your warm puffy pussy enveloping his dick was an extraordinary feeling. One that he'd swore he'd never get used to.

“plap plap plap!” his balls slapped the bottom of your ass cheeks as he stretched you open. His girthy meaty cock hitting all the right spots inside your gummy walls. Your eyes teared up, the pleasure too intense.

“That damn chocolate– oh!!” Satoru moaned as he kept slamming into you. “Shit baby! Sweetheart you feel…” his heart eyes teared up again “so” thrust. “fucking” thrust. “good!” thrust.

Your brows furrowed in pleasure, your plump lips forming a slutty “O” as you finally cried out. “Toruuu! Toru there- hhmmp! Right- there, yes!” and when you thought his thrusts couldn't get any harder your boyfriend proved you wrong.

His pace was now absolutely brutal, hitting your most sensitive spot again and again. Your pussy eagerly sucking his cock like a champ. “Shit b–baby! You're gonna kill me!” poor Satoru whined as he felt your gummy walls clenching, a sign that your orgasm was near.

“I'm close! S’close Toruuu! Don't…stop.” he crashed his lips into yours as he kept up the pace. Your tongues tangled as his hands moved from your thighs to your soft hips, holding you tightly before bringing your whole body towards him to meet his thrusts.

Satoru pulled back, breathing heavily. “Cum for me baby.” he cooed as he licked the drool that had gathered in the corner of your mouth from your makeout session. And then he pulled all the way out before -plap!- slamming back inside in an extremely hard thrust jolting the whole bed forward, the wood hitting on the wall.

That finally undid you. Your orgasm washed over you like a hot white bliss. Your back arched like a cat, your toes curling. You let out the most pornographic moan as your pussy drenched your boyfriend's dick with your delicious juices.

Your fucked out, cock drunk face along with the way your cunt was spasming around his dick was Satoru's undoing. With one final thrust his mushroomy tip french kissed your cervix filling you up with his warm sticky seed. “Fuck…look at her taking it all.” he whimpered looking down with teary eyes at where your pussy milked his cock for all it's worth.

Satoru didn't move. He stayed inside you as you both took your sweet time catching your breaths. Both looking at each other with those lovey dovey eyes drunk in love and lust.

“See? I told you,” you took a breath “told you it was gonna work.” you smiled looking up at him with your soft gaze.

“You’re crazy…” he exhaled, his built muscular chest heaved as he attempted to steady his breathing. “I thought my dick was gonna fall off.” His admission makes you chuckle despite the situation.

“What are you laughing at, pretty? Hm?” He teased you as he gently pulled out of you and tickled your belly making you all giggly and squirmy.

It was only after all your laughing quieted down that Satoru looked at you with a worried expression.

“I'm hard again.” poor baby sounded horrified.

And that's when everything clicked. “Fuck” you thought as you stared at your boyfriend's cock that was indeed twitching with need once again. You probably should have payed attention to the back of the package, specifically the little red sign warning the customers about how many hours the effect of the chocolate could last.

It was gonna be a long night.

[servantofthefates]

I know why you’re confused.

Some say that to manifest, you have visualize it… imagine every detail... think about it each night before you sleep.

But then others say that to manifest, you have to surrender… to let it go… to never obsess over it.

And here you are, thinking, “What the fuck?” Both can’t possibly be true.

The trick is to do them one after the other, not at the same time.

First, make it real in your mind. That involves creating the details in your head… perfecting them… knowing exactly what you want.

Then you let it go.

Now the Universe knows the What. You leave the How and the When to them.

Just like when you’re at a restaurant:

You look at the menu and decide — chicken, fish or beef? Should the steak be medium or well done? Should the side be potatoes or a salad? Should the sauce be mushroom or barbecue? How about the drink? Do you pair it with wine, or are you thinking more casual, like soda?

And once you’ve decided, you give your order, and you wait for it to be served.

You don’t invade the kitchen and check to see how big or thick or fatty the steak is. You don’t hound the chef and demand to see the sauce so you can inspect the color. No, you stay in your seat, and you trust that your dinner will be served when it’s ready.

In the meantime, you don’t pass the time worrying. You chat with your date or your friend. Or if you’re alone, you read a book or you scroll on your phone.

And the more you enjoy the conversation, the chapter or the reels… the faster it seems that you get your meal.

[edamameimei]

always love you (megan skiendiel x reader)

"still, i'll always be there for you, how i do. i let go of my claim on you, it's a free world."

synopsis: the five times you wish megan would choose you + the one time megan finally does. tags: angst. hurt, no comfort! idol!megan x dream academy!reader au. an: just want to put out there that this is not a REAL portrayal of the people mentioned in this fic. all events are fictional and are for entertainment purposes only. CW: suggestive themes MDNI! kissing, substance use. swearing. megan is kind of a meanie head in this ): wc: 8109

⏯ now playing: godspeed - frank ocean

When you first met her, you called it fate. 

To you, it was fate and everything in between because auditioning for Dream Academy seemed like a lost cause. When you first saw the announcement, you thought it would be too good to be true. And the fact that it was global? There was no possible way for someone like you to receive good news, let alone be sent a rejection. You almost convinced yourself that your audition tape would become lost amongst the thousands that would be submitted. 

But there was an urge to do it— an urge so strong you couldn’t possibly say no to the grip the Hybe x Geffen ad had on you. Also, at that point, anything would have been better than going to college. So, you took fate up on its offer. 

And surprisingly, fate allowed you to hear back months later. Not only get a response, but also earn a spot with the project. 

Moving to Los Angeles was something you never considered before Dream Academy. You were so used to your small town that the idea of packing your bags and going somewhere so daunting almost made you drop out of the project completely. But there was a reason you were chosen, and you were determined to see it through. 

Once you arrive at the dorms, your anxiety begins to creep up on you. Most of the other girls met during training and development virtually, so you felt relieved to hear you would be sharing a space with two other girls who were also new to the line-up. From what you were told, one is named Daniela and the other is Manon. You hope and pray they are decent people to be around. 

When you enter the room, you realize you’re the last one to set up your space. You walk over to the open bed, smoothing out the sheets in front of you. Your eyes begin to twitch when you hear loud voices out in the hallway, suddenly feeling trapped despite being the only one inside the dorm. The thought of being stuck with 19 other girls makes you feel self-conscious. You flinch when you hear a girl’s voice booming from the other side of the door. 

None of it feels real; the experience still feels fresh, as if you read that email just yesterday. 

There’s a desire to run and hide, but you aren’t sure where you would even go. You decide to sit down on the floor, crossing your legs. Your hands shake as you rub your face, trying to control the panic that begins to settle in your throat. You’re supposed to be getting ready for your first big meeting with the other girls, yet the negative thoughts in your head run wild, the synapses in your brain misfiring at a millisecond. 

You grip your knees when you hear the door open. 

The person murmurs, “Oh shit,” upon walking in and it causes you to look up with wide eyes. 

Your eyes meet a pair of soft brown hues that makes your mouth go dry. You feel your heart beat faster as you see a smile form on her lips and hear her giggle nervously. “Fuck– Oh my god. I’m so sorry, I thought this was Sophia’s room…”

You don’t know who Sophia is, but you really wish, in this moment, you were the girl she was looking for. The stranger looks around the room, and you can tell she’s feeling a bit panicked. Her awkwardness causes you to laugh. You wipe your eyes as the nauseating feeling in the pit of your stomach disappears with just her presence. 

You stand to your feet, shaking your head. “A Sophia isn’t assigned to this room, sorry…” Your voice is a bit shaky as you speak, and you can’t help but feel relieved when she doesn’t comment. She simply nods, stepping out of the room with a quick wave. “I’d say more, but I really need to find her. I’ll see you later?” You laugh again, and it makes her laugh as well, both of you finding the situation amusing. You wave her goodbye and watch as she quickly closes the door shut. 

Your heart feels full as you turn back toward your luggage, a new feeling of motivation resonating throughout your body. 

Her name is Megan, and it’s fate that brought you two here together. 

You walk outside of the Geffen building and find Megan sitting on the grass with her headphones in. She had her eyes closed, trying to find some sort of peace after another exhausting day of practice. You slowly walk toward her, feeling a gravitational pull toward the black-haired girl.

You sit yourself next to her, deciding to lie down when the exhaustion begins to catch up to you as well. You put your arms underneath your head and glance at her, watching as she opens her eyes. Megan slowly takes her headphones off, raising an eyebrow. She opens her mouth to say something, but you beat her to it.

The words come out quickly and slightly jumbled. “You’re really talented.” You can tell your sudden compliment throws Megan off guard as she chuckles nervously. She looks away, her eyes crinkling. “Thank you…” You sit up and give her a soft smile.

There is a calming energy to Megan that provides you with a weird sense of security, and as you two sit in a comfortable silence, you wonder if she feels the same way about you. 

The rest is history. 

Wherever Megan would go, you would follow in tow. There wasn’t a moment when the other Dream Academy contestants wouldn’t see Megan without you, and vice versa. You often relished in your alone time when you had the chance, but now with Megan in your life, you don’t mind the younger girl tagging along with you to an activity that was meant to be solo or coming with her on a late-night drive. 

You have grown fond of Megan’s personality. She could light up any room she walked into, her bright smile immediately putting everyone in a better mood, despite the rising tension amongst the girls most days. She’s carefree yet so passionate about her dreams. Her ambitions motivated you to work hard, to solidify a spot in the group so you can continue being by her side. 

But unfortunately, there were more days than not when you can’t seem to see the finish line. 

You sit criss-crossed on your bed, staring down at your hands in your lap. Today, you will be filming the first teaser for Dream Academy, and the thought of the project going public makes you feel sick. Your roommates have already gotten ready– their gray uniforms on and their hair and make-up done so well that you can’t help but berate yourself for not being like them. You think about how you will never be like them. Hot tears brim your eyes, causing you to click your tongue in frustration. Your throat feels tight, and the room begins to feel smaller than before. 

In the midst of your silent breakdown, you don’t notice when someone enters the room. You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you feel a hand on your shoulder, and your bed dips slightly behind you. The person scoots closer to you, and the comforting scent of lavender and the ocean becomes more apparent. 

It’s Megan. It’s always Megan. 

You let out a breath of relief at the realization, instinctively leaning into the girl’s touch, to which the girl snakes her arms around you, pulling you close. You close your eyes and hum in content, the anxiety suddenly washing away when you feel Megan hold you in her arms. 

“I can let them know you aren’t feeling well…” Megan’s voice is soft and filled with concern. You close your eyes as you feel Megan run her fingers through your hair. She places a soft kiss on the top of your head, the warmth radiating from her body comforting you. You can’t help the flush in your cheeks when you realize how close she is to you. You clear your throat, finding your voice again. You bury your face into Megan’s neck and murmur, “No, I can do it. Just give me a few minutes…” 

She rubs your back in response and nods. She says, “Let me help you with your uniform…” You roll your eyes at the mention of the gray uniform you are all forced to wear. You sigh, pulling yourself away from Megan, pouting at the loss of warmth. However, the moment you scoot away, Megan is already reaching towards you to grab your hand and lace your fingers together. 

It’s as if you’ve done this a million times already. You’re convinced you have. 

Megan gives your hand one last squeeze before standing up, walking towards the closet with a little bounce in her step. You giggle at her slight excitement and sniffle as you watch her sift through your clothes for the uniform. Megan pulls it out and carefully carries it to your bed. She places it down in front of you with a soft smile. Her eyes stay on you, and it causes you to look away from her with a blush on your cheeks. 

“What are you looking at?” Megan shrugs at your question, sitting back down on your bed. “You have updog on your face.” She deadpans, and you snort, looking up at the Chinese girl who grins widely at you. You swat at her arm playfully. “You’re so stupid.” You say, and Megan giggles loudly, her eyes turning into crescents and her whiskers evident on her cheeks. She sticks her tongue out at you. 

“Well, you’re stupider.” She says in a child-like tone. You roll your eyes, grabbing the uniform before getting up from your bed. You take a deep breath. 

Fate brought you here. Fate put this uniform in front of you. 

 Not only is Megan your safe space, but it seems as though you’re exactly that for her as well. 

You would watch the coaches tear Megan to shreds, pointing out her every flaw and every mistake. The coaching has become harsher, much more intense, and Megan has been on the short end of it. After their tirade finally ends for the day, the Chinese girl would turn her head towards you, a pleading look in her eyes. And you would only nod in understanding. 

You’d meet at Megan’s car and go to the spot you two claimed on the beach or the pier. The drive would be spent in silence, the only thing that could be heard is either Megan or your playlist playing while the windows are down. Once you get to the shore, you both take a seat in front of the thrashing waves, and you wait for her to tell you what was going through her head. 

But more often than not, she doesn’t tell you. She simply rests her head against your shoulder and tells you something more lighthearted. Something you’ve learned about your best friend is how hard she tries to avoid expressing how she truly feels.

You never push her in fear of crossing her boundaries, but you wish you could read her mind. You wish she confided in you the same way she confides in Emily or Adela. But being alone with her on those nights felt like enough. It should be enough. 

But this time was different. 

The drive to the beach felt more tense than usual. When you get to the shore, Megan immediately sits next to you, her legs pulled up to her chest with her chin resting on top of her knees. She doesn’t hesitate to tell you about the pain she has been feeling in her ankle. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise when she brings it up, having tried in the past to get her to understand the severity, but she always told you that everything was fine. 

But every time you saw her face contort into discomfort during practice, how she often collapsed to the ground once the routine ended, you knew that everything wasn’t fine at all. 

You adore how hardworking she is. However, it worries you how much she pushes herself. 

After listening to her speak, you place a hand on her back and rub it gently. You whisper, “You have to tell someone tomorrow, okay?” She only sighs in response and closes her eyes tightly. You watch a lone tear escape her eye. “I just… I just wanna be good, you know?” She admits, and you feel your chest begin to sting. You frown, scooting closer to her. You wrap an arm around her and pull her close, leaning your head against hers. 

“You’re already good. You’re so good.” You say quietly, and for a brief moment, Megan smiles. 

Her voice is soft as she responds, “Sometimes I wonder if this is actually worth it.” She wraps her arms around you and pulls you closer as she continues, her voice trembling, “Sometimes I wonder if this is actually gonna be everything I’d ever want.”  You sit there for a moment, letting her words sink in. This is the first time she has ever been so vulnerable with you, and you aren’t sure how to react. 

Your voice is quiet, but you hope it’s loud enough to show Megan that at least something has come out of the chaos. “I think… I mean. At least we have each other.” You look up at the sky as if you were making wishes on the stars. You continue with a whisper, “That means something, right?” 

It’s quiet. You begin to panic slightly, and you wonder if you said the wrong thing. You’re about to pull away, to ask her if everything was okay, but she only grabs your hand. She holds it tightly. It’s as if she let go, even for a moment, you would disappear. 

But you wouldn’t. You would never. 

She whispers back, “You’re my best friend, Y/n.”

A couple of weeks later, you sit in a conference room with the other girls, awaiting the results from voting and the judges. 

Your breath catches in your throat when you see you’ve earned immunity for the week. You glance at Megan, who avoids your gaze, and you feel your heart aching in your chest, scared of the events that will unfold right before everyone’s eyes. 

Soon after, it is Adela and Hinari who are eliminated first in the competition. 

You walk into the dorm with the others, the tension heavy and thick in the air. There’s a deafening silence amongst everyone, and you watch as all the girls flock to their groups, whispering. Some go into their rooms, wanting to keep their conversations private.

Before today, everyone was dedicated to each other. Now, with eliminations, it has become the real deal. There really is something worth losing in the end of all of this. 

You look around to try and find Megan, but she is nowhere to be found. You know Adela’s elimination would hit her the hardest– their friendship is close and tight-knit. So, it didn’t surprise you when you found her sitting outside the dorm, alone.

You approach her cautiously, your brows immediately furrowing when you notice she has been crying. You reach out to her to grab her hand, but Megan quickly gets up. She doesn’t meet your eyes as she hoarsely whispers, “I need to be alone, Y/n.” She crosses her arms and walks back inside, leaving you behind.

You stand there, confused by your best friend’s actions. You look around for a moment, and your lip begins to tremble, that familiar lump in your throat present. Your hands turn into fists as you finally release the sob you’ve been holding in since voting began. You want to run inside and find Megan, to find comfort. But she can’t even be around you right now. 

You wonder if this was all a mistake. 

Unbeknownst to you, this is only the beginning of what could be the end. However, you still believe in fate. You wished upon it. 

I. 

You walk up to Megan after practice one day, a small frown on your lips as you watch her pack her things. Her movements seem agitated as if she were to stay longer in the practice room, she would lose control completely. You reach out to her and gently place a hand on her shoulder.

Despite her distance from you, you know the other girl is going through so much mentally. You desperately want to show Megan that you’re there. That, just because Adela is gone, you are still in the competition. And you aren’t leaving her for anything. 

However, she tenses up at your touch, shrugging your hand off to continue her task. You pull away as if you had accidentally burned her. You fidget with your fingers in silence, unsure of what to do next. Megan zips up her bag and stands to her feet, swinging the bag over her shoulder.

When she turns around, she immediately widens her eyes, not expecting you to still be there behind her. “Y/n, what do you want?” She asks, a bit exasperated by your presence. The aching in your chest only grows tenfold at the pinch in her tone. You know she’s upset, but you also know you don’t deserve to be pushed away like this. 

You bite your lip to try and hide your hurt expression. You bite back what you want to say to her, what you want to confront her about, because you know Megan. And you know she’s hurting just as much as you are. Your eyes dart around the room to avoid her gaze and take a deep breath. “I just. I’m here for you.” You say with tears pooling in your eyes.

You shrug, suddenly feeling ridiculous for even trying. Your voice shakes as you speak again,  “I’m here for you, that’s all.” You look down at the ground and turn away from your best friend, knowing it’s best to give her the space she desires. As you walk away, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, tugging you back forcefully. 

When you turn back around, you feel Megan place her hands on your cheeks, pressing her lips hard against yours. Your brain short-circuits at the unexpected turn of events. In the back of your mind, you know you should push her away. You know that this wasn’t what you both needed, especially this far into Dream Academy. But when she pulls away and looks up at you, desperate and breathless, nothing could stop you from pulling her into another kiss. 

It was deeper this time, your lips moving against hers messily. You feel her run her hands through your hair, and if this is what Megan needed, you were more than okay to oblige. 

The other girls were relieved to see you and Megan back to your normal dynamic.

The moment they saw you two enter the practice room together the next day, pinkies linked and smiles on your faces, they couldn’t help but feel as though everything was finally going to be okay. But this time around, it felt different, more charged.

They notice the secret glances across the room, the subtle touches during evaluations, and they try not to bat an eye when one of you leaves the room with the other following suit moments later. For everyone’s sake, they keep their questions to themselves. 

But after Mission 3, when you didn’t receive an invitation to move forward in the competition, they all held their breath. Everyone’s eyes land on Megan as if bracing for the impact that would soon follow. But she stayed where she was, not even taking a glance at you as your hands turned into tight fists. They all wondered if that was worse. 

You manage to keep yourself together when you get back to the dorms to pack your things. Once you finish, you throw yourself onto your now stripped bed. You couldn’t believe that your time in Dream Academy has come to an end. You stare up at your ceiling as a million thoughts run through your mind.

Megan, at some point, joins you and lies next to you. She reaches over you to place a hand on your cheek, turning your head so you can face her, and your heart breaks when you see the sadness in her eyes. You close the space between you two, kissing her softly. 

You don’t know what this is with her. But you hope it won’t change once you’re gone. 

Megan pulls away and rests her forehead against yours. She looks at you with her brown, puppy-dog eyes, and you can’t help but melt under her gaze. “Will you still text me when you’re gone?” She whispers, and the question makes you chuckle. You nod and place a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” Megan bites her lip in response, and you can tell she’s trying to contain her tears. You sigh, removing your hand from her shoulder to cup her cheeks with both hands. “I’ll call you all the time. You’ll be so sick of me.” She giggles, and it’s music to your ears. She raises her pinky in front of you, her expression becoming serious. 

“Promise you’ll call, Y/n L/n. I’m in your walls.” It’s your turn to laugh as you connect your pinky with hers, a sincere look in your eyes. You whisper, “I promise, weirdo.” Megan sticks her tongue out at you before raising your pinky to her lips, placing a soft kiss against your skin. 

She murmurs against your hand, “You’re my best friend, Y/n.” 

You have the urge to ask her if that’s all you are to her. If you two really are just best friends. But you didn’t want to risk the way she looks at you as if you were everything she had ever dreamed of. You opt for blissful ignorance despite how much it hurts to do so. 

“You’re my best friend, Megan.” 

II. 

You two sit on your spot at the pier together, looking up at the stars. Your shoulders are touching, and the proximity makes you feel lightheaded. The scent of her shampoo overwhelms your senses, and her perfume makes it a million times worse.

Usually, you welcome her company like this. But as she talks about the absolute most horrid date she ever went on, you can’t help but feel detached from her. She waves her hands animatedly as she complains about the boy she saw and how their time together just kept getting worse. You nod passively at every other word, only speaking when it feels right to do so. 

Megan notices the shift in your demeanor and rests her chin on your shoulder, looking at you with concern. “Sorry… I’ve said a lot…” You shake your head quickly, turning toward her with a small smile. “No, you’re okay. I’m just… Thinking.” She furrows her brows at your words and sits up.

She tilts her head and reaches out to you, putting her hand in yours. Megan squeezes gently. “Thinking about what?” She asks quietly. The question lingers in the air with only the sounds of the crashing waves being heard. You look away from the girl, your attention drawn to the rising tide. 

“You’re gonna be a popstar…” You hear yourself saying. What you actually want to tell her is that there has not been a day when you haven’t thought about what you two could be if given the chance. You want to tell her how your heart sinks every time she brings up a new date she went on.

There are so many things you wish you could tell Megan, but you trust that fate would make its rounds– that this is all according to plan. 

But, you do admit, the thought of your best friend becoming a celebrity runs through your mind every once in a while. After leaving Dream Academy, Megan tried her best to keep in contact with you despite always being busy doing one thing or the other. It led to many of your texts going unanswered, but she was always good about calling you after a long day, ranting about the latest thing that happened at the dorms or practice. 

But now, since officially earning her spot in the group, Megan has become busier than ever. She no longer calls you as often, and every few days, you’d receive a text from the girl, apologizing for not answering you sooner. 

It bothers you more than you like to admit, but this is everything she has ever wanted, so you’ve pushed your true feelings aside. 

She looks at you tiredly. You notice the bags underneath her eyes and how her smile doesn’t have its usual brightness. Her voice is hoarse as she speaks, “I’m gonna be a popstar… How fucking crazy.” She says the last part with a laugh, looking up at the sky. You stare at her with a worried expression. 

“Are you… Okay?” You find yourself asking, and Megan faces you again, forcing a smile. She nods, but you see right through her facade. You clasp a hand over hers, squeezing gently as if to tell her, “I’m here. I’ve always been here.” And you hope she hears every word. You sit there in silence, the sound of the breeze and waves is the only background noise. You decide not to say anything more, hoping your existence would be enough. 

God, you hope more than anything that your existence means something to Megan.

Suddenly, Megan pulls you into a tight embrace. Her hands grip the back of your sweater, and she buries her face into the crook of your neck. You respond immediately, wrapping your arms around her. You feel her tears against your neck, and you hold her even tighter, your head against her shoulder. You sit silently, allowing her to release the emotions she has had pent up for God knows how long. 

After a few minutes, Megan’s sobs have subsided, and you stay there in each other’s arms, not daring to let go. She keeps her grasp on your shirt as if afraid you might disappear again. Finally, she takes a deep breath, pulling away slightly to look at you with red and swollen eyes. You look back at her, helpless, unsure of how to make her pain go away. 

You don’t even think when you bring your hand up to her face, cupping her cheek gently. You use the pad of your thumb to wipe away the tears that are left. Megan leans into the touch, her eyes fluttering close. “Y/n?” She whispers. You notice how she closes her eyes tighter and her lips trembles as she continues, “I just– I– Fuck.” She struggles to get her words out. You hold your breath, your free hand resting on her knee as you wait patiently for her to finish her thought.

She takes a deep breath and opens her eyes. “I just wish Adela or Emily were here.” 

You retract your hand from her knee. Something about her words knocks the wind out of you. She doesn’t notice your pained expression and giggles, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I have to get a boyfriend or something so I don’t keep bothering you with my bullshit.” 

You force a smile and stand up, ignoring the way your heart twists and thrashes in your chest. “Shut up and take me back home.” You say, trying to compose yourself. You stretch your arms before offering Megan your hands, to which the Chinese girl accepts gratefully. You pull her up to her feet quickly, causing Megan to slip slightly on the pier beneath you. 

She grabs onto your shoulders tightly to regain her balance. Your eyes widen, and you wrap your arms securely around her waist, pulling her close. Your breath hitches slightly when Megan looks up at you, her brown eyes twinkling. She giggles, mumbling a quiet, “Sorry.” You shake your head in response, still looking into her eyes. Megan keeps your gaze, the smile on her face falling slightly as she realizes how close you two are.

Megan’s eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips for a split second, but you notice. 

It’s been months without her lips on yours, and it has been driving you crazy. 

You lean in slowly, your heart beating faster. Your eyes flutter close when Megan leans in as well, your noses brush against each other, and you can feel Megan’s breath become shallow. 

She tastes like cherries, not like the strawberry chapstick she always puts on. 

Her hands messily thread through your hair and pulls you closer. She sighs into the kiss, and it only spurs you on even more, grabbing her hips. You lose yourself in the way her lips move against yours, and you hope, in this moment, she forgets about everyone else. You deepen the kiss in an attempt to make sure she is only thinking about you. 

After a few moments, you pull away, breathless, and your cheeks flush. Megan looks at you, biting her lip. You look into each other’s eyes, and it frustrates you when you can’t read her expression. You just want, for once, for Megan to choose you. To look at you and realize you were right there, right in front of her, choosing her. 

But she turns away, skipping towards her car as if the events that just transpired didn’t happen. You take a sharp breath, feeling slightly betrayed by fate and its games. 

III. 

You find yourself being dragged to Emily’s birthday party. 

You weren’t too sure of going in the first place. After months of dwelling on a decision, you decided to enroll in a college in Los Angeles to stay close to the friends you made during Dream Academy. Now that you were a full-time student, you struggled to find a balance in your life. If you felt lost before, you were now deep in the trenches, trying to juggle school work with a social life. And to make things worse, you couldn’t help but feel as though your best friend was once again slipping through your fingertips. 

After their song blew up all over social media, it has become much harder to contact the now ginger girl. You couldn’t even remember the last time you saw Megan, despite living in the same city. With Katseye’s growing success, you knew it would bring change to your dynamic with the girl. But as the months began to pass, you started to see yourself as an afterthought to Megan. She wasn’t even the one who asked you if you were going to the party– it was Lara.

But against all odds, you decide to go. The night ends up being a bit of a blur. You decided to take an edible right before to calm your nerves, and now you lazily sit on one of the lawn chairs in front of a fire pit while everyone is lost in their own conversations. Karlee sits next to you, smoking a blunt you helped roll for her. 

You and the Japanese girl catch up with each other, giving updates on what has been missed since your last interaction. You can’t help but wonder why you never reached out to Karlee after Dream Academy. You remember her being a great friend to you, always sticking up for you when something distasteful would be said about you. 

At some point during the conversation, Karlee’s hand finds yours. She plays with your fingers absentmindedly as she complains about recent drama in her life. You listen in and out, becoming distracted every once in a while by Megan. 

You watch as she dances with Lara, Manon, and Emily. At some point, Daniela joins them, and so does Adela. But your eyes remain on the Chinese girl. You watch as the girl moves her hips to the song, getting lost in the rhythm. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch your best friend throw her head back, smiling. Her features are lit up by the fire, her ginger hair swaying along with her. You shift uncomfortably in your seat. You can’t believe how attractive Megan is, and you can’t believe how much it still affects you. 

You force yourself to look away, not wanting Karlee to pick up on your blatant staring. You’re relieved when you look back at the Japanese girl, and she’s still talking, unaware of your internal battle. You look at the blunt in Karlee’s hand and point at it. You smile lazily, your eyes slightly glazed over as you speak, “Can I take a hit?” Karlee looks at the blunt and nods, laughing softly. She is about to pass it over, but she takes it back with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She speaks up, her voice teasing, “Have you ever done a blowback?” 

The question throws you off guard, and it makes you think for a moment. You look at Karlee, tilting your head with a curious look in your eyes. You decide to play into the game, however. You shrug and say, “Once… Are you asking to do one?” The statement makes Karlee look away, surprised by your question. She scoots her chair closer to you and looks back to see a smirk on your lips, still waiting for Karlee to answer the question. 

For some reason, you feel bold in your interaction with Karlee. It’s a way for you to forget Megan and her avoidance of you, but you don’t want to admit that. You want the reason to be because Karlee is attractive, and she is giving you her undivided attention. 

You watch the Japanese girl nod her head in response and suddenly, your confidence begins to falter at the realization of the many people around you. The other Dream Academy girls were only a few feet away. But Karlee moves the chair so she is now sitting in front of you. She looks at you to see if you had any hesitation in your eyes, but she only sees the lazy look in them, a playful smile on your lips. 

It causes Karlee to giggle, and you raise a brow in response. You whisper, “What’s so funny?” Karlee shakes her head, responding just as quietly, “Nothing. Just… Look at me…” You do as you are told, and you look at Karlee, swallowing when you realize what’s going to happen. You watch as Karlee takes a long hit from the blunt and immediately looks into your eyes as she places her hands on your cheeks, her fingertips warm. 

Instinctively, you part your lips and watch as Karlee leans in closer, your noses brushing against each other. Your eyes don’t leave each other once Karlee begins to exhale while you inhale slowly. There’s a tension between you two, and you aren’t sure how to feel about it. You’re sure Karlee has finished, but neither of you pulls away. You watch Karlee’s eyes flutter close, and against all rational thoughts, you close yours as well, leaning in closer. 

However, before the moment can develop even further, you feel a weight in your lap and a pair of arms looping around your neck. You open your eyes, widening them when you see Megan with her puppy eyes staring down at you. You open and close your mouth, a bit at a loss for words. 

You watch Megan look over at Karlee, who doesn’t look very happy that the moment between you two was interrupted. There’s a playful glint in Megan’s eyes as she holds you tighter. She speaks up, a giggle in her voice, “Sorry… I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just needed to tell Y/n something…” Your cheeks redden when you feel the Chinese girl grip the back of your shirt. You wrap your arms around the girl’s waist, securing her in your lap. The action makes Megan look down at you with a soft smile and she begins to tell you about something she heard from Adela and Emily. 

You feel Megan run her fingers through your hair and you listen to every word she says. As if she is the only girl that exists. 

As if you didn’t almost kiss Karlee.

She pushes you up against the bathroom door, her lips finding yours in a heated kiss. 

Your hands instinctively grab her hips, pulling her closer as she desperately grips your shirt with her fists. Her lips move against yours in a rhythm that makes you feel lightheaded. The quiet noises she makes as you grip her hips tighter fill you with the need for more. 

Suddenly, she pulls away and looks at you with flushed cheeks and desire in her eyes. “I didn’t realize you and Karlee were that close.” Her words cause you to let out a breathy chuckle. 

“We’re talking about Karlee right now?” You ask, leaning down to press feather-light kisses against her neck. She sighs, and you feel her grip on your shirt loosen. Her fingers thread into your hair as she cranes her neck slightly to give you more access. “You guys just seemed really cozy, you know?” You hum against her neck, pulling away to look at her with an amused expression. 

You tilt your head and smile at her playfully. “Does it matter?” You challenge, suddenly feeling brave due to the rising tension between you two. Megan bites her lip and shakes her head. “I was just wondering…” She trails off, leaning up to kiss you again, but you don’t give her the chance, tilting your head away from her. Megan looks at you questioningly and places her hands on your shoulders. “What’s wrong?” 

You furrow your brows at her. You can’t help but think everything about this was wrong. The way she tries to avoid situations, the way she thinks she can kiss you and pretend it doesn’t mean anything. You begin to feel bitter when you remember how, before your almost-kiss with Karlee, Megan barely acknowledged your existence. And suddenly, none of this seems fair to you. 

“Admit it…” You say shakily. She looks at you with confusion written on her face. She opens her mouth to respond, but you quickly continue, finding your voice, “You’re jealous.” Megan immediately jumps away from you once she hears your words. She glares at you and whispers, “What the hell are you talking about?” You narrow your eyes.

“You’re jealous of Karlee because this means something to you.”

You stare at each other in silence. It’s as if you two were daring the other to say another word. 

“I gotta go.” You hear her say. She avoids your eyes, stepping forward and attempting to push you away from the door, but you keep your feet planted where they are. You can’t help the scoff that leaves your lips as you cross your arms over your chest, looking at her incredulously. “Why can’t we have a real conversation about this?” 

Megan’s cheeks turn red as she responds, her voice raised, “About what?” 

“You know what!” You yell, throwing your hands up in the air in agitation. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Megan!” 

You feel hot tears spill from your eyes as you look at her, pleading for her to love you back. Megan bites her lip and looks down at the ground. She murmurs, “I can’t do this.” Your lips form a thin line as your hand reaches behind you, grabbing the handle to the door. You whisper, your voice breaking, “Tell me to stay. Please.” You shake your head frantically when Megan keeps her eyes on the ground. You take a deep breath, your grip on the handle tightening. “Megan… Tell me I’m not a second choice to you, please.” 

You look at Megan, a pleading look in your eyes. You don’t care how pathetic you look,  you just need to know if Megan still cares. You desperately want to know if this really wasn’t in your head the entire time, and that fate was still on your side. 

Her silence makes you slump your shoulders. Your eyes soften, and whatever fight you had left goes away. Your grip on the handle loosens, stepping away from the door so she can make her exit. She looks up at you with glistening eyes, and you simply force a smile. “I can’t leave. So, you can.” 

With no hesitation, Megan goes without another word. 

IV. 

You don’t hear from Megan after Emily’s party. You watch her life unfold through Instagram pictures and updates given by her other members. They don’t ask you about what happened, and you’re grateful. 

You felt as though you were grieving. She’s alive and happy and has everything she could ever want, and she was able to do it all without your help. 

A photo of her surfaces on your timeline, and it’s of her at a party with other influential people in Los Angeles. You stare at the photo of her mid-laugh with a drink in her hand. She seemed as though she was in her element, and you realized how far apart you were from the girl you fell in love with. 

Your phone buzzes with a notification, and you see it’s a message from Karlee. She asks if you are free to get coffee sometime. 

You tell her that you’re always free. That coffee sounds lovely. And that you’ll see her next Thursday. 

Fate sits in a locked box beneath your bed. It thrashes and screams and begs for another chance. But you have coffee with Karlee next Thursday, and that is how it will be. 

V. 

“Y/n, is it true you’re going to Hawaii to meet Karlee’s family?” 

It’s been a year since you last spoke to Megan, and she now sits across from you with Lara, her legs crossed, and her hair is now black with pink dyed bangs and tips. You can’t help, as you look at her, that she resembles the Megan you knew from Dream Academy. The one who struggled with her confidence and didn’t feel good enough for anything. Despite everything, you hope she feels differently. 

You hope she knows how beautiful she looks. 

Karlee rests her head against your shoulder and hugs your arm tightly. She leans up and kisses your cheek softly, causing you to smile. It doesn’t quite reach your eyes, but the Japanese girl chose you, and that’s what matters the most to you. 

You nod at Lara’s question, taking a sip from your drink. You feel Megan’s eyes on you, but you ignore her as you respond. “Yeah, we’re leaving in a few days…” You hear Karlee squeal excitedly next to you. She looks at the two girls with a wide smile on her face. “I’m gonna show them everything. They’ve never been, so it’ll be fun.” Lara smiles at Karlee, then looks at you. There’s a glint in her eyes that you can’t quite decipher. 

“Honestly, I always thought it would be Megan who would take Y/n.” You know it’s a joke, but you can’t help but wince at her words. You glance at the Chinese girl who seems to be deep in thought. You fight the urge to ask her if she’s okay. But you know it isn’t your place to ask– she made that clear to you. Karlee laughs at Lara’s words and takes a sip from her drink. You feel her tug at your sleeve, and you look at your girlfriend, who looks back at you with adoration, with so much love that you can’t help but feel guilty for wanting to check on Megan. 

She inches her face closer to yours and says, “Come with me to get another drink?” You nod, smiling when she gets up from the couch and holds her hand out to you. You take one more look at Lara, then at Megan. “It’s nice seeing you guys again.” Megan looks at you with an expression you’ve never seen on her face before. It almost looks like longing, but you know better than to overanalyze. You take Karlee’s hand and allow her to pull you to your feet. She kisses you softly before pulling you away from the girls. From Megan. 

A few minutes have passed since the conversation with you and Karlee, but Megan stays where she is on the couch. She leans her back against it, her mind running chaotically. She glances over at you standing with Karlee and Adela and notices a subtle sullen look in your eyes. The usual twinkle in them seems dim, and Megan wants more than anything to go up to you and ignite that light. But she knows it isn’t her place anymore. Megan made her choice, she made her decisions. 

Megan looks down at the drink in her lap, biting her lip. She thinks about how she accidentally walked into your dorm on that first day. She remembers how there was a time when it would be you and her against the world. No one saw you two separated because you were always right there with her every step of the way. You never left her, even when she pushed you away. 

She looks up again, and her breath hitches when her eyes meet yours. You stare at her for a moment before smiling softly. There’s a twinkle in your eyes, and it reminds her of the day you walked up to her outside the Geffen building. 

The voices of everyone else, the loud conversations, are all tuned out in this moment. Megan only sees you. 

And suddenly, it all starts to click. 

That day, and everything else after, was fate. 

I. 

You: cant believe u left this place wtf

You: it’s so beautiful!!!!

Megan stares at the messages from you, a small smile on her face. She can’t help but feel a bitterness starting to fester in the pit of her stomach. 

Megan: had to chase my dreams :) 

Megan: im glad ur having fun!

After Karlee’s party, she decided to reach out to you, not expecting a response. However, you welcomed the message with open arms. It was as if she hadn’t done anything wrong. But Megan knew something was different. She knew this time around, it wouldn’t be how it used to be. 

You: so much fun!! 

Megan: go surfing for me? 

When Megan first met you, she knew deep down you’d change her life somehow. But you wove yourself so deep into it that it scared Megan. She was scared of something so real and raw, something that would force her to show the sides of herself that she tries so hard to hide. 

But she would have dropped everything she had ever worked for in a heartbeat for you. And maybe that’s why she pushed you away. 

Megan: also take pics of everything bc i miss it sm

Megan: only if u can ofc

Because why does a person like that exist? A person you’d give everything up for? Why would someone do something so stupid? Especially when they’re just so close? 

Megan: can i ask u something?

Megan: it’s a weird question LOL

But no one told her she could have chosen you and have everything in between. Fate hadn’t caught up to her yet, and she could only blame herself for being a coward. 

You: yeah what’s up?

Megan: r we still like… friends? 

Megan lies in her bed that night wearing an old hoodie of yours that no longer holds your scent. She feels tears brim in her eyes as she thinks about you being with Karlee. Her heart breaks at the thought of you being in Hawaii with Karlee and not her. 

You: ur my best friend, meg. always. 

Megan: ur mine always too, y/n 

She stares at her ceiling and thinks about your hand in hers, your soft smile, the way you stay every single time. 

She wonders if fate will ever come back. She’d take it back and never leave again. 

Megan: can you call? 

You: cant rn. gonna hang out w karlee’s fam :) 

You: talk to you later? 

Megan sends a response that makes her heart ache in her chest. 

Megan: yeah, i’ll wait for you <3

a/n: im back n im making it everyone's problem >:) this was my attempt at megan angst oops i hope u all enjoyed....... i promise megan fluff soon!! <3

requests are open

[thirteenheavens]

producer vernon? idol yn? yn is struggling and vernon decides to help out ????

What turns you on?|| Chwe Vernon

You're sitting in the recording studio, surrounded by music equipment and struggling to find the right words for your latest track. Vernon, your producer, notices your frustration and approaches you.

"Hey, everything okay?" he asks, concern etched on his face. "You've been staring at that screen for hours." You sigh and run a hand through your hair. "I just can't seem to get this song right," you admit. "I want it to be sexy and sensual, but I can't find the right rhythm or melody." Vernon leans against the desk, studying you with a thoughtful expression. "Let me help you," he says, his voice low and husky. "I have some ideas that might inspire you."

He steps closer to you, his body inches away from yours. "Let's start with the lyrics," he suggests, his breath tickling your ear. "Close your eyes and think about what turns you on." You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to clear your mind of everything except the heat of Vernon's body next to yours. He starts to whisper in your ear, his words painting vivid images in your mind.

"Imagine being pressed up against me, feeling my hands on your body," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin. "Imagine the way my voice would sound in your ear, whispering dirty things to you." Your breathing quickens as the images flood your senses, and you feel yourself getting wet between your legs. Vernon notices the effect he's having on you and smiles.

"Good girl," he says, his hand sliding up your thigh. "Now, let those feelings guide your words. Let them be the inspiration for your song." You blush furiously as you scribble down the words that Vernon whispers in your ear, his hand still on your thigh. He watches you with a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you.

"Keep going," he encourages, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. "Don't stop until you have a whole verse." You manage to write a few lines, each one more explicit than the last, fueled by the heat between your legs and Vernon's seductive presence.

"That's perfect," he praises, reading over your shoulder. "Now let's work on the melody. I want you to sing it for me." He guides your hand to the keyboard and starts to play a slow, sensual beat, his other hand resting on your waist. "Sing," he commands, his voice firm but gentle. "Let me hear what you've got." You take a deep breath and start to sing the lyrics, your voice shaky at first but growing more confident with each line. Vernon's grip on your waist tightens as he listens, his body pressing closer to yours.

As you sing the final lines of the verse, Vernon turns you to face him, his eyes dark with desire. "That was incredible," he breathes, his hands roaming over your body. "But I think you need to experience what the song is really about." He captures your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he pushes you back against the desk. You can feel his hardness pressing against you through his jeans, and it sends a jolt of electricity through your body.

"I want to show you what those lyrics mean," he growls, breaking the kiss to trail his lips down your neck. "I want to make you feel every word." He lifts you up onto the desk and spreads your legs, standing between them as he continues to kiss and bite at your skin. His hands slide under your shirt, pushing it up to reveal your breasts.

"No bra?" he teases, his fingers playing with your nipples. "You were expecting this, weren't you?"

"Maybe I was," you say, your voice trembling with anticipation. "Maybe I wanted you to help me get into the right mindset." Vernon grins and tugs on your nipples, eliciting a gasp from you. "You're a naughty girl, Y-N," he says, his eyes glinting with mischief. "But I like it."

He pulls your shirt off completely and tosses it aside, revealing your bare chest to him. "So beautiful," he murmurs, his hands roaming over your skin. "I could stare at you all day." He leans down and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting until it's hard and sensitive. You arch your back, moaning softly as the pleasure courses through you.

"Vernon..." you whimper, threading your fingers through his hair. "Please..."

"Please what?" Vernon asks, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. "Tell me what you want, Y-N." He continues to tease your other nipple with his fingers, watching your face intently as he waits for your response. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, your body burning with desire.

"I want you," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want you to take me right here on this desk." Vernon grins and slides his hands down to the waistband of your pants, undoing the button and pulling them off in one swift motion. "Your wish is my command," he says, his eyes dark with lust.

He lifts you up again and sets you on the edge of the desk, spreading your legs wide. "You're so wet," he comments, running a finger along your slick folds. "Is this all for me?" You blush and nod, unable to form words as Vernon teases your entrance with his finger. He circles your clit with his thumb, watching your reactions with a smirk.

"You're so sensitive," he says, his voice low and seductive. "I bet I could make you come just like this." He slides a finger inside you, slowly pumping in and out as he watches your face. You moan and lean back on your elbows, surrendering to the pleasure.

"More," you beg, rocking your hips against his hand. "I need more." Vernon adds another finger, stretching you out as he curls them to hit your g-spot. "You're so tight," he groans, his own breathing becoming ragged. "I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cock."

"Then don't wait," you say, your voice desperate with need. "Fuck me, Vernon. I need to feel you inside me." Vernon doesn't need to be told twice. He quickly unzips his pants and pulls out his hard, throbbing cock, giving it a few quick strokes before lining himself up with your entrance.

"Are you ready?" he asks, his tip teasing your entrance. You nod frantically, and he pushes inside you in one smooth motion, burying himself to the hilt.

"Fuck," he groans, his eyes rolling back as he feels your tight heat envelop him. "You're so perfect." He starts to move, thrusting deep and slow at first, but quickly picking up the pace as his desire takes over. The desk creaks beneath you as he pounds into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the studio.

"You feel so good," Vernon grunts, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucks you harder. "I'm not going to last long like this." He angles his hips to hit your g-spot with each thrust, his cock hitting all the right spots inside you. You can feel your orgasm building, a tight coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter in your belly.

"I'm close," you moan, your nails digging into Vernon's shoulders as you hold on for dear life. "Don't stop." Vernon slams into you with renewed intensity, his own release drawing near. "Come for me," he commands, his voice strained. "Come all over my cock." You clench around him, trying to hold back your orgasm as long as possible, and Vernon hisses in pleasure. "Fuck, you're so strong," he says, his fingers digging into your hips.

He changes the angle again, grinding against your clit with each thrust. "I want to feel you come undone," he growls, his eyes locked on yours. "Let go for me." The combination of his words and the intense stimulation finally pushes you over the edge. You scream his name as your orgasm hits you like a wave, your body shaking with the force of it.

Vernon follows right after, spilling himself deep inside you with a loud groan. He collapses on top of you, both of you breathing heavily as you come down from your highs. Vernon kisses you deeply, still buried inside you as he whispers against your lips. "That was incredible, Y-N. You're incredible."

He pulls out slowly and helps you off the desk, supporting you as your legs tremble. "You okay?" he asks, concern in his eyes. You nod and smile, feeling blissed out and satisfied. "More than okay," you say, wrapping your arms around his neck. "That was exactly what I needed."

Vernon chuckles and hugs you close, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. "I'm glad I could help," he says, kissing the top of your head. "Now, how about we get cleaned up and go over those lyrics again?" You take a quick shower together, helping each other wash off the sweat and evidence of your passionate encounter. Once you're both clean and dressed, you return to the studio and sit down at the desk again.

Vernon pulls up the song and grins at you. "Let's see if we can get those lyrics recorded today," he says, winking. "I have a feeling they're going to be a hit."

[eightofpents]

alright i'm gonna talk about the letter apparently. i was just gonna write something petty to rot in my drafts but i've decided i actually wanna collect my thoughts here.

this got. too long. it's under the cut.

FIRST. The letter doesn't invalidate his choice in Re Creation. WHY would he give up the wish he is currently making with the expectation that Adrien Might make the wish he actually wants sometime in the future. He's not the brightest but he's not that dumb. It would be an absolutely nonsense decision to make.

For now I'm gonna assume Gabriel wrote the letter.

I think Intuition is probably when it would've happened. He's high key dying and Nathalie asks him to make arrangements for Adrien, and despite his general inability to envision his failure he Does ask Adrien about it. And in the letter he assumes Nathalie will still be there; as of Intuition they think she'll outlive him. So, arrangements: world's shittiest letter.

And he marks it as anachronistic and puts it in the box with Froggy. Which is in character. White!Gabriel constantly doles out affection to Adrien to manipulate him. Look at Froggy, remember we love each other, and then read this mind blowing letter. Then go beg Nathalie to help you stop being an orphan even though she'd given up on that.

The contents of the letter, for reference:

My son. If you're reading this letter, it means I'm with your mother. I sacrificed everything to save Emilie. Monarch was me. I did all I could to seize the miraculous of the ladybug and the black cat. With their powers, I could have brought your mother back. But I failed. It's your turn, now, to continue my mission. Don't worry. You'll have help. Nathalie will explain. You will seize the miraculous of that wretched Ladybug and her pathetic partner Cat Noir, and you will make the wish to bring your mother and me back. You will be perfect. I know these revelations will turn your life completely upside down. It was the case for your mother and me when we first found out about the miraculous. But we never regretted harnessing the peacock to-

The letter to me, largely sounds like Gabriel could've written it. He Would be petty about Chat Noir.

"My son." Gabriel calls Adrien that on relatively few occasions, but he considers it affectionate, and importantly, he does it in Both My-Son-Is-Chat timelines, and fairly frequently as white!Gabriel, specifically to manipulate him. We're off to a very Gabriel start.

I am curious about him calling her Emilie to Adrien. Not in a "That's not Gabriel*" way, just. It's weird to call your partner by their name to your kids right? Are they just reminding Us of her name?? (*not that he's ever done it before)

"But I failed." His inability to conceive of a world where he fails; you might consider this an issue of ego, stubbornness, whatever. I. Do not. When he says he can't live without Emilie in Re Creation, he fucking means it. He finally accepts her death and Immediately kills himself. He can't lose because the world can't go on without Emilie. So despite it being uncharacteristic to Make Arrangements (notably. he doesn't, like, find a caretaker for adrien. just this letter.), I'm not marking it against Gabriel writing the letter because the arrangements he's making are actually just to make sure Emilie comes back.

"It's your turn, now, to continue my mission. You'll have help. Nathalie will explain." It's not Nathalie will help. It's Nathalie will explain. You'll have help. From the cult. (Who notably refer to the diamond's "mission" at the end.) The point of this letter isn't to get Adrien to start hunting miraculous (on his own). It's to get Adrien into the cult. Which I'm sure Nathalie recognizes.

Perfect and revelation are both loaded words but I don't have any thoughts on em beyond that.

"But we never regretted harnessing the peacock" (A lie, but one I can appreciate.) This is what really gets me. He's going to tell Adrien he's a senti. Which doesn't make any sense for Gabriel to do. A deathbed confession about senti stuff? Yeah, Maybe. But if he plans on being back to deal with the consequences of Adrien knowing??? This isn't going to endear him to Adrien. I don't think it'll make him more likely to listen. All it'll do is fuck the boy up.

And as someone else (i do not recall who) pointed out, hiding the letter in the box when you're working with the very limited time frame of Nathalie's life from Gabriel's perspective as he's ostensibly writing this would be Exceptionally risky. Its been months, now that we're finding it. But if it was written after Gabriel's wish that's a moot point.

I legit went into this post without strong feelings on who wrote the letter but I've kinda fully convinced myself it wasn't Gabriel. (<says noted Gabriel Apologist. but I was managing that just fine when I thought he Did write it so.)

Anyway I'm officially putting my money on "written by the cult, for the cult."

[theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming]

Nicole Reads A Lot of Fanfiction (and she's gonna share it with you): Week 16

Week [1] [2] [3] [4/5/6] [7] [8] [9] [10/11] [12/13] [14] [15]

Alright. Here we are with Week 16.

It's been a week of living in Delulu land. A warning for this Rec List: if the fic is in orange (or contains orange like that one fic I did in both colors) it is a POST 8x15 Fic. Now some might be a little speculation or ignoring canon but... If you are not in the mental space for what that may entail, stay clear of those fics :)

Sterek: 2 Buddie: 18 (8 post 8x15)

Find Me At The Tree (Waiting For You) by Arvak (2025•M•15.8K)

He'd seen it on the Nature Channel: Yellowstone National Park, one of the greatest marvels of nature, nestled right nearby in the good ol' Western States. And on a complete whim, he'd decided to pack the car and hit the road to get the hell away from customers and bosses and traffic and bills. He never expected to come face to face with a wolf. Or, rather, a werewolf who'd had very similar thoughts to his own, and who was much worse at social interaction. - OR - A total therapy fic about escape and freedom and achieving a better life that I hope you might enjoy as well.

Magna Cum Ardoriter by Waddiwasii | @waddi-writes (2025•E•31.8K)

Stiles can’t help but feel like he’s been lied to. Legally Blonde all but guaranteed immediate mastery over all coursework and an effortless discovery of his one true purpose. Instead, every class is a confusing nightmare, and the only revelation he’s had so far is that he might actually be too socially incompetent to make friends. Given that the sum of his accumulated attempts at having a quintessential, life-changing college experience is a resounding zero, Stiles is left with one very disappointing conclusion: Elle Woods is a fucking liar.

Ice Cream Trucks by glorious_spoon | @glorious-spoon (2025•M•1.2K)

"What's so funny?" Eddie murmurs. He's pressed so close Buck can't see his expression, but he can feel the shape of his smile against his jaw, and that's even better. "Nothing, nothing," Buck says, breathless, and kisses him again, because he gets to do that now apparently. "I just can't believe this is happening. Feels like a dream." "You have a lot of dreams about me?" Eddie asks, in a tone that's definitely trying to be smooth but is just a little too uneven to completely pull it off.

want to feel you when I'm falling in love by smilingbuckley | @smilingbuckley (2025•GA•1.0K)

Buck keeps getting cold at night and struggles falling asleep. Eddie cuddles him about it. -- There’s grumbling next to him before the duvet shifts. “Come here.” “What?” Buck’s voice is too loud for two in the morning. “Come here,” Eddie repeats. Buck’s been awake long enough for his eyes to have adjusted to the dark. Eddie’s hair is ruffled, standing up at the top. His hand is motioning Buck to come closer. “Why?” Buck asks instead of doing what Eddie asks him to, still confused. Eddie sighs, “Body heat.” Buck blinks. Okay, normally he’s a smart guy, okay? But it is 2 in the morning and Buck is freezing his ass off and they had a long shift the day before. When Buck doesn’t move, Eddie sighs again and pulls him closer. And… oh.

pushing the limits by Tizniz | @tizniz (2025•GA•5.3K)

The point though is that Buck doesn’t push his magic. He doesn’t know his limits. And that proves to be a problem.

slide into home base by sibylsleaves | @jeeyunspetrat (2025•E•5.1K)

Eddie's the star pitcher of the 118's intramural softball team. Buck is the assistant coach who has a few pointers for him.

Exhibit B by Daisies_and_Briars | @cal-daisies-and-briars (2025•T•10.8K)

Seven years in the future, an adult Christopher has a chance to see his grandparents - and subsequently, his father - in a new light, on a family trip to El Paso.

god loves you, but not enough to save you by justhockey | @everything-i-am (2025•E•30.3K)

He’s big, is the first thing Eddie notices about him. Not just his body - though his shoulders are broad and his biceps are thick - but his presence, too. He’s so commanding that he’s impossible to miss; he draws all of Eddie’s attention even as he sits silent and motionless, like he’s trying to disappear. He has a halo of curls on his head and a shock of pink above his left eye. Angel, Eddie thinks, and something twists uncomfortably inside his chest. Or: Eddie is a priest, and Buck is a firefighter, and once their worlds collide nothing will ever be the same again.

room for two by 42hrb | @exhuastedpigeon (2025•E•3.3K)

“Dude, you’re not sleeping on the couch, you pay half the rent,” Eddie pushes Buck into the bedroom when he walks out of the bathroom on the third night of Buck’s 4 off. He’s almost dreading Eddie coming back to work next shift, then he’ll have no reprieve. “I promise I don’t bite — not unless you ask nicely.” Oh Buck is so fucked, but there’s really no way out of it. At least not while Eddie is awake. Buck decides he’s going to lay in bed and wait until Eddie falls asleep and then he’ll sneak out and onto the couch. “Yeah, fine,” he huffs and lets himself be bullied into the bedroom. 

The Eddie Diaz Lore Drop by onedropstories (2025•GA•6.0K)

Chimney sighed. “Well, man, like I said earlier, of course you can bring him.” Hen watched her best friend deflate into the couch cushions, eyes drifting to the ceiling. “Man, I was not expecting this Eddie Diaz lore drop today.” He turned back to Eddie. “Got any more secret family announcements in your pocket?” “...can I bring my kids?” “Your WHAT-”

just one single glimpse of relief (with you i serve with you i fall) by instantcaramel | @toxicpositivitybuddie (2025•GA•2.2K)

“Someone has to tell Eddie. I have to call him. I have to - have to tell him and Chris. I have to call them.” He knows he sounds frantic, almost panicked, but he can’t calm himself down. “I have to tell them. I have to - “ He sobs into his own hands, and he just wants to collapse to the ground again. or; There's only one person Buck wants to talk to tonight. (Coda to 8x15 Lab Rats)

won't say it (don't make me say it) by Tizniz | @tizniz (2025•NR•1.3K)

There’s absolute silence for a few seconds, and then there’s this broken and wounded sound. Eddie bolts up in bed, heart racing in his chest, “Buck?” “H-he’s…he’s…” Buck chokes out another sob. He sounds like…well, like he’s dying. OR: Eddie finds out.

all the quiet nights by becausebuckley | @becausebuckley (2025•T•3.8K)

“You don’t have to do that,” Buck says, averting his eyes as Eddie’s fingers begin working at his belt. “It’s just my wrist.” “Just- just let me take care of you,” Eddie says. It’s a question, but it comes out somewhere between a statement and a plea. “Please.” or: eddie takes care of buck.

who the hell likes living just to die? by BekkaChaos | @bekkachaos (2025•T•1.7K)

Set after the events of 8x15, Eddie gets a phone call.

i can take the pillowcases off the yellow pillows by atlasblue85 | @atlasblue85 (2025•GA•1.6K)

It almost sounds like someone is crying. He heads toward the source of the sound – Christopher’s room, except he knows Christopher is outside goofing off with his cousins. “Eddie?” he calls again, gently nudging the door open. He’s greeted by an unfamiliar sight: his son, sitting on the floor of his old bedroom, sobbing.

the autumn chill that wakes me up, you loved the amber skies so much by deanvrse (2025•GA•3.7K)

“I heard Maddie won’t be walking you down the aisle.” At those words, Buck’s face shifts. The flicker of a smile fades, replaced by something smaller—something quieter. He glances down, avoiding Bobby’s eyes in the mirror. “Yeah,” he says softly. “She’s officiating, so… I guess I’ll just walk myself down the aisle.” He shrugs, trying to play it off like it doesn’t matter, but Bobby sees the way his jaw clenches, the way his shoulders tense again like they’ve been carrying that thought all morning. Bobby’s hands still on the tie. He doesn’t speak right away. “Or—” he says eventually, voice gentle, “I could do it.”

Or it’s Buck and Eddie’s wedding day and Bobby is their gentle pillar

i fear the worst (how could you leave us all behind?) by buckleysbest | @langdonsmel (2025•GA•673w)

Eddie gets the call at 9:32 on a Friday morning.

It was night (when you died) by ranbling | @ranbling (2025•T•1.3K)

Eddie gets the first text a little after 10 pm, it's Karen telling him everyone is okay. Buck calls him after midnight. "Buck? You there?" he breaks the silence and it feels wrong. It feels like the calm before the storm, the calm before something goes wrong on a call. It feels like the calm before he got shot by a sniper in the sunlight, before Buck got struck by lightning. "I-it's, it's Bobby" Buck chokes out.

killing time at the cemetery by playinginthunderstorms | @playinginthunderstorms (2025•T•1.8K)

You’re gonna be okay, Buck, he’d said. They’re gonna need you, he’d said. Captain’s orders. Buck will not fail him. Not ever again.

and longingly i long by effervescentwolf | @effervescentwolf (2025•M•13.9K)

He’s still greedy, even now. Still can’t figure out how to loosen his grip on it just a little, knuckles white with how hard he’s holding on, but he’s trying so hard to give Eddie space and time because he asked for it, because when they got together, Eddie couldn’t seem to stop looking at him when he asked Buck to be patient with him, couldn’t hide the nerves from his voice, the vulnerability of his open chest, the honesty in his fingers against Buck’s wrist where he’d held on so gently as if he was afraid to come any closer. So Buck is trying, to just sink into having it rather than wanting more, to let it be enough rather than him being too much, and he’s been doing good, mostly. He’s been doing good. - Or asking for what you want is asking too much of Buck, except it isn’t really. Not when it’s Eddie.

[wcnderlnds]

to the moon [2] | choi seung-hyun (t.o.p)

・❥・ summary: bumping into seunghyun unexpectedly yet again leads to a night under the stars. ・❥・word count: 1.5k ・❥・warnings: none ・❥・ authors note: this kinda sucks and i didn’t proofread bc im tired but hopefully you enjoy 😭 im sorry part two took so long.

PART ONE

Why aren’t astronauts hungry when they get to space? They had a big launch.

The flash of your screen lighting up caught your attention, making you pause the words you were typing up on your computer. An almost giddy feeling filled you, knowing immediately who the text was from. Work could wait; this was more important. You slid your finger across the screen to unlock your phone, grinning like a cheshire cat when you read the text. The giggle that burst from your lips should’ve been embarrassing but you didn’t care. You loved corny jokes – you’d especially come to love corny space jokes from Seunghyun.

It had only been a week since you had met him in the bar but he had made sure to text you every single day. It had first started out with just one or two texts but it got to the middle of the week and you found yourselves texting each other almost all day long. He’d tell you some space facts, some corny jokes and tell you what was going on with his space mission. He always seemed so passionate about it. The way he talked about stars and space was so endearing.

Quickly, your fingers tapped along the screen typing up a reply. Knowing Seunghyun, if he wasn’t busy, he’d reply straight away. You’d done enough work for the day – it was mostly catching up with assignments you’d set yourself. Being an author meant that you could at least pick and choose when you worked. As long as you met your publisher’s deadline then you were fine.

Shutting your laptop, you leaned back on the couch, stretching your arms above your head. You could really go for some chocolate ice cream right now. But, you remembered that you’d ran out last week when you had a breakdown over your latest novel, deciding to stuff your face with ice cream to eat away your feelings.

It seemed like a visit to the grocery store was in order.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Being at the grocery store at 9pm on an evening felt weird. The aisles were mostly empty, only a few cashiers on the registers eagerly waiting for their shifts to end. The buzz of the refrigerators filled your ears as you walked down the frozen food aisle. There were only a couple of other people in the store. Most of them probably needing some last minute items like you or on their way to get their drinks for the weekend. It was a Friday night after all.

Reaching the freezer where your favourite ice cream was, you pulled it up but just as you were about to grab a tub – the last one, actually – another hot shot out too, brushing against yours to grab it.

“Hey,” you huffed. With blazing eyes you turned to give the person a telling off before you saw who it was. “Seunghyun?”

“Y/N?” His face lit up instantly. “Fan of the chocolate ice cream, too, huh?”

“Yep and I’m sorry but this is mine.”

“Says who? We both grabbed it at the same time.”

“Yeah, but I opened the freezer door so by default, I was first.”

“That's how it works?” His lips turned up in a smirk, both your hands still holding the tub.

“Yeah, so, let go of it,” you tried to sound stern but it wasn’t hard to notice the small giggle you were holding back.

“Alright, you little ice cream goblin, how about we share?” Seunghyun suggested. “We can go outside right now and dig in. Only catch is you have to hang out with me to do it.”

“Oh no, how will I ever survive?” You sarcastically rolled your eyes. Truth was, you were elated to spend time with him. Through all the days you’d been texting, you’d wanted to ask him if he wanted to hang out but could never get the guts to do it. He was busy, you hadn’t wanted to interrupt that but by the way he was smiling, fingers twitching against yours, he seemed just as eager.

“You’re a brat,” he laughed. Before you could even react, he snatched the ice cream from you, running to the cashier with you chasing after him.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Before you had met Seunghyun, you hadn’t appreciated just how beautiful the stars were but now as you sat here on the hood of your car with him beside you sharing the chocolate ice cream he’d bought, you couldn’t help but marvel at their beauty. They way they dazzled in the night sky, how some seemed to shine brighter than others. You’d have to ask the space nerd why that happened. Space had never interested you before but now you found your thoughts constantly drifting to wonder what actually went on in the universe. What other secrets did the stars hold?

You dug the plastic spoon into the half eaten tub of ice cream, savouring the flavour as you put it into your mouth. Seunghyun beside you had momentarily gone quiet after a rant about Star Trek. The second you had told him you’d never watched it, he launched into telling you all the lore. You had just sat there, listening, nodding when needed. Seeing his little face light up as he spoke about these characters made your heart beat a little faster. That all too familiar feeling of butterflies threatening to come to life in the pit of your stomach.

“So, I have to admit something,” you said once you’d swallowed down the ice cream. “I googled you.”

Seunghyun stiffened. “What? Why?”

“I saw an article about the DearMoon project and it said you were a Korean celebrity which you never told me by the way so… I got curious,” you glanced sideways at him, noticing how he had visibly tensed, his hand clutching at the spoon in his hand.

“Oh.” That was all he said. The way he refused to look at you made your heart ache. In Seunghyun’s mind, he thought now that you knew who he was and his past, you wouldn’t want anything to do with him. His mind was his biggest enemy, always telling him he wasn’t good enough. He couldn’t be further from the truth.

Carefully, as if you were approaching a scared animal, you placed your hand on top of his that was resting on the hood. Your voice was soft as you spoke. “It doesn’t matter to me. It doesn’t change anything. Your past is your past and, from what I saw, you were treated incredibly unfairly anyway. I don’t care about any of it. To me, you’re that nerd from the bar who texts me awful space jokes everyday.”

Seunghyun let out a breath he didn’t even realise he’d been holding. His body relaxing at your soothing words. Well, almost. Maybe he was panicking inside a little bit at the fact your were basically holding his hand but that was a problem for future Seunghyun to deal with. “Thank you.”

“Now, show me another one of those constellations,” you smiled at him, giving his hand a soft squeeze but not letting go. Not just yet. The contact was nice. You leaned back against the window of your car, Seunghyun following suit. He raised his free hand, finger pointing out one of the constellations.

“See those three star in a row? That’s Orion’s belt,” his eyes gazed up at the night sky to admire the beauty of the stars. It was calming. Especially being here with you.

“Oh yeah, I see it,” you said, raising your own hand to trace the stars with your own finger. “That’s pretty cool.”

The ice cream had been forgotten about as Seunghyun pointed out another constellation, telling you all about it. You listened intently, hands still joined. It wasn’t until his phone started buzzing that both of you were brought out of your stargazing haze. He frowned as he looked at the text telling him they needed him at the training complex. With a heavy sigh, he jumped off the hood, holding his hand out to help you down.

“I gotta go.”

“I know.”

The silence settled between you. It was evident to anyone that neither of you wanted to leave each other. Seunghyun was stalling, trying to soak up as much time with you as he could. You were about to open your mouth to speak when he beat you to it. “Hey, a couple of us are going to check out that fair in town so… if you want to come… with me, that’d be cool.”

“Yeah, I’d love to.” You rushed the words out. It should’ve been embarrassing how eager you sounded but the radiant smile on Seunghyun’s made it impossible to.

“Cool, cool. Meet you there at 7 tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you then.”

Seunghyun said his goodbye and left you alone with your thoughts. At first his had just been a friendship but now, you could see the small fragments of something else seeping through the cracks. It was just a matter if you wanted to lose yourself in those feelings or keep it strictly friendly.

Regardless, you couldn’t help but be excited to see Seunghyun again tomorrow. Maybe you’d have to come prepared with some corny space jokes of your own just for him.

taglist (ask to be added!): @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten @justsisse @sherrayyyyy @loveesiren @aizshallnotbefound @gdinthehouseee @berfgrimm @fleabagspurplewife @flymetothexmoon @gemzyy @bettelaboure @breakmeoff

[mechncheese]

Helloo ur designs are very scrumptious and I love them smm especially ur thundercracker design made me draw again after so long!! I wanna ask how u choose a design for them while knowing how to design their alt mode

Awh thank you so much ! As for how I design them while keeping in mind alt modes, here’s my thought process when I’m designing bots ! I have a better understanding of flight frames (mostly because I have a lot of toys for Jet transformers and a whopping total of Zero Car transformers) than ground vehicles !

LONG POST here's a read more

General notes -

While designing TF characters, I design the robot mode first but I'm always keeping in the back of my mind what their alt mode is. I don't have a design for the alt mode yet but I've decided what vehicle the character will be !

I'm also always thinking about how what fits into where and how it would get there during the transformation process. I find that Flight Alts follow more of a pattern than Ground Alts. Ground Alts tend to have more range/variety when it comes to where parts go such as some having car doors as wings or some have their car doors on their arms and some have their feet as the front of their car modes while some have the chest as the front. A lot of Jets follow a similar formula, at least from what I've noticed but there are always exceptions !

You probably hear this a lot from most TF artists but breaking things down is very helpful, it's all just shapes and parts ! It’s kind of like solving a Rubik's Cube to me, and I love thinking about how parts fit into what, it itches my brain just right bahaha !

Also during transformations, sometimes Parts Just Appear, and you can honestly chalk it up to "It's something that's unseen in their robot mode" Like wheels. You don't have to have all their wheels visible but it's helpful keep in mind where they would be "stored" If it's stored in their legs that means that the legs should be the rear or front end of the car. If it's in their shoulders then the shoulders would be the rear or front end of the car and you can design them accordingly !

FLIGHT FRAMES,, I have an easier time with those so here's a visual of my brain when I'm thinking about them ! The underside of the alt mode.. Will always kind of Look a little Weird. It's normal I promise.

I'll make one for Ground Alts eventually but I am not fully confident about those yet !

Also watching toy reviews and also having figures has really helped my understanding on bot modes and the way they fit into alt modes ! If you’re looking for a more realistic way that bots would transform I highly recommend watching some tf toy reviews that go over transformations and articulations !

If I remember anything i’ll reblog with any additions but this is what I got for now !

[softlymellow]

The Order Forgot Me First - Chapter 2

pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Star Wars set in clone wars before rots)

word count: 1247

story themes: Lovers to enemies to eventually lovers (slowburn)

warnings: angst, spoilers to the clone wars series

chapter summary: Anakin is left with the remnants of yourself. Confusion and anger hits him in the gut as he is left behind to decide what to do.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

---

Anakin sat on the edge of the cobblestone fountain with Obi-wan besides him, his head down as he recounted the events with you. 

They both sat in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, a place Anakin had taken refuge in since your disappearance yesterday. He knew how much you adored this room and all of its beauty. The trickling of the fountains bouncing off all the walls and the roar of the waterfall couldn’t compare to you. Your hair always rested perfectly on your shoulders and your eyes were shut as you were deep in meditation. He always found you the most beautiful when you were meditating. He wanted to know what you were thinking of. What had conflicted your heart to meditate. 

“I have known Y/n long enough to know she wouldn’t do anything irrational.” Obi-wan’s voice broke his line of thought. 

Anakin shook his head, “You should’ve seen her, Obi-wan. She was frantic. She couldn’t even,” he sighed, “...She couldn’t even trust me.” Anakin's voice cracked.

Obi-wan looked ahead, “Have trust in the force, Anakin. She loves you.”

Anakin remained silent, his eyebrows furrowed. What could he have done to make you stay? Did you not love him? No. He knew you did. Then what?

Maybe it wasn't him.

It was the way the whole galaxy pulled at your sleeves. Making you fight for a world that didn't belong to you. Or was it the way he pulled you in? Did he need you too much? Love you too loudly? Was it the way he fought not just for peace, but for you? To save you from the orders a Jedi has? A life without freedom.

“It was the council that did this.” Anakin suddenly said, his fists curling at his sides. Obi-wan furrowed his eyebrows and looked over at Anakin in confusion. “They scared her off. If they had just listened to her none of this would’ve happened!” 

“Anakin, thinking like that will only lead you to the Dark Side. Her trial is still ongoing, only then can we make final decisions.” Obi-wan attempted to reconcile the boy. “I admit, it was a poor execution of the council but these times are uncertain. All things will come to light”

Anakin pursed his lips attempting to make sense of his former master's words but all he wanted was you beside him. “I hope you’re right, Obi-wan.” Anakin stood up from the fountain with Obi-wan following. 

“Aren’t I always?” Obi-wan attempted to make a joke out of the poor situation. Anakin forced a laugh out, hoping it would come out sincere, but unfortunately for him, Obi-wan is easily able to read Anakin. 

Obi-wan took the chance to fully observe Anakin while he remained silent. Anakin had a troubled expression, his arms were crossed as if it was a protective barrier. He had known about their secret relationship for a while now and that the Clone Wars had began to take a toll on both of them. This was different though. It was solely based on trust, but that’s not to say Anakin and you didn’t trust each other, it was the pressures of the Council and the war that caused the skepticism. Obi-wan knows how much Anakin loves you, with you gone though… He had always struggled with abandonment. You leaving without even trying to save yourself was a blow to his heart because you didn’t just abandon the Jedi Order, but you left him too. 

“I think it’s best you go to bed, Anakin. We will figure out a way to prove her innocent.” Obi-wan said in a soft spoken voice. 

Anakin inhaled deeply, trying to rid of the lump in his throat, “Alright. May the force be with you.” 

“May the force be with you, Anakin.”

Anakin left the room with his troubles still following him. With every step he took to his chamber didn’t ease the heaviness in his heart. Anakin’s nails began to dig in his skin, his knuckles turning white. Once he entered his chamber, he would have to come to the reality that he doesn’t know where you are, if you’re safe or not. He slouched when the door opened, his quarters dark and down casted. 

He began to throw his robe off as he walked into his room, too careless to think about where it ended up, and groaned as he fell onto his bed. He closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair attempting to soothe him in the way you always did. 

Y/n. 

Y/n.

Y/n.

He couldn’t sleep. He thrashed in his bed and turned from side to side. He wanted you by his side like you always were. You were always there next to him when he had a nightmare that was usually about his mother. Part of him didn’t want to sleep because if he closed his eyes it would be you instead of his mother dying. He wanted you here. He regretted every action he made up till now, wishing that he had put more effort into keeping you here. 

Anakin swallowed as he threw his legs off the bed and eyed his palms. Getting up from his bed, he made the decision he would go to your chambers, at least he thought he would sleep better. Already wearing clothes, he grabbed the robe he threw on the ground and placed it around his shoulders. Walking out of his quarters as quietly as possible, he put the hoodie of the robe on his head wanting to blend in with the darkness of the Jedi halls. He didn’t even have to think about where to go, he had entered your chambers during the late of the night so often that it almost felt nostalgic. 

As he reached your door he could feel something different. A disruption in the force. His eyebrows furrowed as his fingers gently caressed the lightsaber that rested on his side, his body on high alert as he sensed something different inside your chambers. Cautiously entering, the weight on his shoulders only increased as he knew someone was in here. A small part of him hoped that it would be you but he could recognise your force signature from a mile away. 

Objects were scattered throughout the floor, clothes were thrown onto your bed and the curtains wide open to reveal the slowly appearing sunrise. He even spotted a dress he had bought you awhile ago laying on your desk. A gift for you on your birthday that he had purchased secretly with the help of Ahsoka and Padme. A Jedi had few possessions but Anakin had tried so hard for so long to give you a devotion gift, at the very least on your special day. He imagined you tear-faced and confused as you attempted to sort out your essentials to bring with you, even worse that during it you most likely thought that he didn’t care at all. But he did. He cared the most. 

A sudden creak was heard from your wardrobe. Anakin’s head whipped to the sound, his eyes widening and his heart racing. 

Gritting his teeth, he slowly made his way further in. 

Anakin knew better than to believe it was you so he pulled out his lightsaber, the blue plasma blade emitting the room with its light.

Anakin took cautious steps towards the closet, his palm hovering off the door. With a simple flick of his wrist the closet door flew open. 

Barriss Offee. 

---

Taglist: @endairachristensen26 @hayden-christensen-verse @ducks118

A/n: hope u guys enjoy it!!! i'm open to any ideas or suggestions you want me to add or tweak <3 lmk what u guys think!

[towasdandelion]

what if confession texts with the ghouls 👉👈👉👈 and how they/reader confessed ISJDJSKSJDJSJK and maybe with pookie wookie romeo BUT NO PRESSURE TAKE UR TIME /GEN SJDJSJKDJS TY IN ADVANCE I LOVE UR TEXT MSG POSTS SOSOSOSO MUCH 😭😭🩷🩷

I'm glad you like my posts (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) I was planning to do something like that sooner or later hehe, for now let's go with the scenario where you're the one confessing! Hope you like it (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Sinostra and Vagastrom ghouls when you confess to them

Romeo? Well.. his pride says "I'm not surprised" but his heart and his head are a mess. He paces around the room. Will literally take him minutes to text back, typing then erasing every message, his finger always just hovering over the 'send' button. He feels kind of.. embarrassed. How dare you make him feel like some fool? And confessing to him instead of waiting for him to do so? The audacity!! Deep, deep down he's happy though. He's happy he didn't have to be the one to say those awkward words first. And honestly it's for the better because his confession would be probably a text saying "Don't you ever dare to die!" Or something like that..

Ritsu, our calm and collected gentleman! Or so it seems. To be honest he got exactly what you meant. But just in case he got the wrong idea he decides to play it safe. He feels incredibly relieved once it turns out you're in love with him too.. because being business partners just wasn't enough for him. Don't be fooled though. Behind that calm mask of his there is a blushy Ritsu who can barely keep a straight face while sitting in the library. Must. Upkeep. The reputation. He quickly gathers his things before leaving the building in a hurry to get some fresh air. He then sits down on the nearest bench, takes out his notebook and begins writing everything he wants to say once you two meet.

Taiga loves playing games. Any games. Well, he didn't exactly expect to fall for anyone but since it happened, he's just going to roll with it. Grins to himself when he reads your message. So you finally found the courage huh. How did he know you're in love with him? Don't ask me, it's Taiga. He feels a rush of excitement as the conversation goes on, already imagining the look on your face when he takes you in his arms first thing when you meet up. After the text exchange he won't be able to sleep anymore. He will lazily stroll around Sinostra with a grin on his face that scares pretty much everyone who sees him.

Leo. Things were going well. So well. You just confessed and the ball was now in his hands. And what does he do? Makes himself look pathetic. The texts were obviously meant for Sho. He immediately deletes them. But it's too late. He throws his phone on the bed before grabbing a pillow and letting out a dramatic scream. Will probably avoid you for like a week out of embarrassment. Try to make fun of him and he'll gaslight the shit out of you. What messages?? What are you talking about??? He's so desperate he will even try to twist the situation, laughing that you probably dream about it. At this point just grab his face and kiss him. Trust me, it will work like a charm.

Sho's eyes widen. What was meant as a joke, actually turned out to be true. You just confessed to him. He's stunned, but it only lasts a moment. This is the perfect opportunity to mess with you a little. Not to upset you, just to see if you know that he likes you too. You don't huh? Well that only gives him more of a reason to tease you. Will kind of panic after the exchange though.. hoping he didn't take it too far. Will patiently wait to see if you show up. If you do, you can count on a lot of teasing smiles and subtle touches before he actually says that he likes you too.

Alan doesn't want to believe his luck. You really like him. And not just that. You like him more than a friend. He sighs deeply, thinking what he should reply. He obviously doesn't want to reject you. But he thinks you really do deserve someone better than him. He feels bad about accepting your feelings, even after you reassure him. It might take him a while to process this. The actual conversation will happen after a week or so, with him asking if you're sure of this. Please do take your time to reassure him that he's the one for you.

[hearts4sammonroe]

hey diva, i am in NEED of a scott fic where the reader's peters daughter.

she shows him around on his first day, matches his vibe PERFECTLY, lowk beefs with shelby and jules about him.. and that's all i can think, you decide the rest!!

pairing: scott barringer x peter’s daughter!reader

contains: slight swearing, a bit of jealousy, scott’s nonchalant attitude, immature and awkward teens.

a/n: thanks so much for requesting anon!! this is my first time writing for anyone on this app, so leave feedback and lmk if it’s good!! Also I’ll make a part 2 soon just lmk what you guys want to happen😛

divider credit: @cafekitsune

Scott Barringer just got checked in at Horizon. It was a bunch of fuss, but he finally accepted it. At least for a few hours. You, being Peter’s daughter, were assigned to show him around. You hadn’t met him yet. You prepared just like you would for any other new arrival. But Christ… when you saw him walking up with your father you were shocked. How could someone be so fine?

“This is Scott Barringer. He’ll be assigned with the cliffhangers.” Peter introduces, before introducing you and heading off.

The boy sure seemed moody, not wanting to talk, kicking at the grass. He didn’t talk, but he would definitely make eye contact.

“Why are you here?” You ask. That was usually the first ice breaker. It was intimidating for people to be here, especially on the first week, but since you were Scott’s age you tried your best to make him feel comfortable.

“Drugs.” Scott replies dryly.

“That’s why most of the kids are here. You’re not alone, y’know?” You say. Scott just nodded. He may be dry and have short responses, but he never took his eyes off of you. “So you’re all checked in? Talked to my dad?”

“Uh-huh.” Scott nods, arms crossed.

You nod and keep walking in silence until you reach his cabin.

“This is your cabin. It’s where all the cliffhanger boys stay. You’ll be rooming with Auggie and Ezra, they’re pretty cool.” You explain.

Scott sits on the bed as if he’s testing it out. “Hm.”

“It’s comfortable. Shocking, right?” You chuckle, making his lips twitch ever so slightly.

After showing Scott all around his cabin, you showed him where the cafeteria was and where the “classroom” was.

“Is the school work super hard or somethin’?” Scott mumbles.

“It’s normal. Just like regular school work.” You shrug. “Why? You struggle in school?” You honestly didn’t know how you were keeping your cool around him but you were doing a damn good job.

Scott just shrugged. That didn’t really give you an answer but it’s fine. “I help out some of the people here…mostly with reading.”

“They can’t read?” Scott asks sarcastically.

“They struggle. Some people just don’t catch on like others.” You reply and keep walking. “Here’s where everyone can hang out during free time.”

Scott eyed the chairs, couch, fireplace, then his eyes landed on the piano and he made his way over.

“You play?” You ask.

Scott nods, sitting down and playing something off the top of his head.

“Wow.” You say, eyebrows raising in shock. Damn. He’s fine and can play the piano?

You were now showing Scott around outside.

“I like your hair.” He said. He said it so quietly that you barely heard him.

“What?” You ask, genuinely not hearing him.

“Nothin’. Where are the people I’m supposed to be with?” He asks.

“The cliffhangers. They’re out on the lake, they’ll be back soon.” You answer.

A moment of awkward silence passed and you spoke up before really thinking.

“So you play football?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s cool. I play soccer.”

“Really?” He asks. “Figured you’d be a cheerleader or something.”

“No.” You chuckle.

You guys talked about sports for a good twenty minutes. You were hitting it off really well. You both loved flannels, football and soccer, and the same music.

“Where do you stay?” Scott asks curiously.

“With my dad. Just a couple minutes away, it’s not far. We live in a small house a few roads up.” You answer.

Damn. Scott was hoping he’d see you around more. He’d definitely find a way though.

“Do you like being here?” He asks.

“Yeah. I like helping the people around here, and it makes my dad happy. I like to see the kids grow and change into better people after spending time here.”

Scott just nodded again. To be honest, you didn’t talk a lot, just like him, but you were kind of nervous and your mouth wouldn’t shut. But you decided to shut up for now.

Scott spotted a football and jogged over. “Come on.”

You followed him. He looked at you with a smile and held it up. “You know how to play?”

Before you could answer, the cliffhangers were finally back and Shelby was waving you over.

“I’ll be right back.” You tell Scott before heading over.

“Who is that?” Shelby smirks the second you’re over there.

“He’s cute.” Juliette smiles.

“His name’s Scott. He just got here today, he’s a cliffhanger now.” You reply.

“Is he single?” Shelby asks.

The hell? You spoke to him first! You got first dibs!

“I don’t know.” You mumble.

At dinner time, you went to check in. Juliette stopped you before you could even look at Scott.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, noticing her frown.

“Shelby.” Juliette pouts. They were always aggravating each other, so there was no telling what happened now. “I was gonna go introduce myself to the new guy, but she pushed me.”

It was like talking to elementary school kids who just got into a fight on the playground. “Well, did you say anything to her?”

“No. I dropped my tray. I was embarrassed.” Juliette mumbles.

“Don’t be. That’s what she’s trying to do, don’t let her.” You tell her.

You finally lock eyes with Scott, who was getting questioned by Shelby. His lips twitch up ever so slightly and he rolls his eyes playfully.

You smile, feeling a slight blush creeping up your neck.