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foreverisntenough · 2 months ago

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‘Movie Night’

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

Index:

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

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

Chapter 7 - Girl of The Season | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 11.3k

You went out to dinner with Jack, Noah, Trent, and a few more of their friends. At first you didn’t want to go but Trent texted you that he better see you tonight. It made you giddy when he followed up...

It was sweet, playful, and everything you’d wanted. The night had started with excitement, a thrill of anticipation as you’d read more of Trent’s message telling you he’d have a hard time keeping his hands off you. It all had you feeling like a schoolgirl. You’d gone out thinking it’d be fun—a way to let loose and enjoy the easy chemistry that had been brewing between you and Trent, even with everyone else around. You imagined the night like any other was lately, filled with laughter and stolen glances that no one else would notice. The evening buzzed with energy, drinks flowing and stories spinning across the table. The group banter was easy, familiar. But as you sat at the table, laughing along to their stories, everything changed in an instant. One boy looked at Trent and asked a question that’s intent was harmless but catastrophic to you.

“Bro, so who's the girl of the season right now?” The question was referring to something you didn’t know about. It hung in the air, a casual laugh among them, but it made you freeze. You tried to keep your face neutral, not wanting to react to something you didn’t quite understand. Trent shifted in his seat, letting out a small laugh as he shrugged it off, but the other boys egged him on, teasing him as if they were letting you in on some kind of inside joke. Trent couldn’t do anything but let it play out. He felt helpless and stupid at the mercy of his own history. You knew Trent got with plenty of other girls before you but you had no idea it was so routine. That he’d apparently find a girl ahead of each football season began so he’d have someone locked in for when he was away and because he’d be too busy to go out and find someone- it was convenience not love.

“Yeah, just share her now, mate. Or is she not locked in yet” Noah laughed. They kept laughing and adding to it, casually throwing around details as if this ritual was common knowledge, as if finding a girl for convenience was routine. It felt hollow, the notion that Trent had a pattern, that every season he had someone by his side just as a placeholder for when he was busy.

“Girl of the season huh?” You quipped with a raised brow. You felt sick but presented just teasing. You tried to keep your tone light, even though your pulse was racing. You looked to Trent for clarity, a reassurance he didn’t immediately give. The boys kept talking. Even Jack joining asking if it was maybe going to be the girl he rejected i.e you. i.e the girl Trent had told them about after your incident at the club. Your heart sank, you wanted to cry but you bit back tears and spoke up once more. Inside you felt horrible. Were you merely his ‘girl or the season?’ “So… is there a contract?” you asked, sarcasm laced in your voice. “When’s the deadline day?” You quipped. But the weight of the situation bore down on you, leaving you feeling like you were nothing more than an option, something temporary. You were trying to join the banter just to survive, even though you were crumbling inside.

“Y/N it’s not that serious, the transfer window is always open” one boy laughed. All the boys laughed, not sensing the discomfort behind your smile. They couldn’t possibly know this information hurt you. They didn’t know everything that had happened behind closed doors.

“Yeah, it’s rolling. I was just curious because Trenty usually has his girl locked in by this point. Season’s started. You know a lucky lady to keep him… entertained,” Noah laughed, the others nodding in agreement. “She’s lucky… and convenient. He’s a busy man, after all.” He joked further. You felt the blood drain from your face, but you forced a smile.

“Is it now? Wow… sounds really really good for you ” you sarcastically quipped.

“Nah, lads relax… it’s not.” Trent tried to stop this. He could feel your tension even though it wasn’t showing on your composed face. Trent cut in, sensing the shift, his voice softening as he tried to redirect the conversation. His eyes flicked over you with a trace of panic and concern but most of all guilt. But the boys continued, chuckling about his past conquests, reeling off names as if recounting game stats.

“Yeah remember the year you won the Champions league you were cooking with girls. Lol. Michele, Keely, Taylor…” Noah added. It was a boys dinner and suddenly you realized that and they didn’t. Noah forgot about the obvious crush you had on Trent. Noah meant no harm but this was making you sick. The illusion of intimacy shattered in your mind, leaving raw insecurity and a sudden urge to escape. Trent sensed it, reaching for your hand under the table, a dangerous move but it was the only thing he could do, his touch gentle, but you pulled back, suddenly feeling exposed. Trying to keep your composure, you excused yourself and walked quickly to the bathroom. Your hands shook as you closed the door, the glossy, tiled walls offering little comfort. The hurt hit you all at once, and you sank onto the floor, your breath hitching as you tried to hold back tears, feeling crushed under the weight of it all. The thought that you’d been so easily slotted into a role in his life—temporary, interchangeable, convenient—cut deeper than you’d imagined. Had you let yourself believe you were different to him? That you mattered more? In the solitude of the bathroom, the truth crashed over you in waves. It wasn’t just that he had been with other girls before—of course he had. But this casual talk, the way they all laughed as if his relationships were nothing more than placeholders, as if this ‘girl of the season’ title was just part of the cycle… it made you feel disposable. You wrapped your arms around yourself, hot tears blurring your vision. You felt naive, stupid even, for letting yourself fall for someone who’d apparently seen you as convenient. For thinking you were different. It felt foolish to imagine you could hold a place in his life that was anything more than temporary. In the cold, sterile quiet of the bathroom, you replayed every tender moment you’d shared with Trent, every laugh, every late-night conversation, every quiet touch that had felt so real. And now, it felt like it had all been a facade. How could you have been so naive?

After a few deep breaths, you pulled yourself together, standing up and dabbing at your eyes. You couldn’t hide out forever, no matter how much you wanted to. You checked your reflection, steeling yourself, and returned to the table, forcing a breezy smile as you slid back into your seat, a mask of indifference firmly in place. But as you settled in, Trent’s gaze caught yours, worry etched across his face. He’d seen the hurt lingering in your eyes, even as you tried to hide it. The question of whether he cared—whether he’d ever care as deeply as you did—hung between you, unspoken but heavy. And in that moment, you realized you didn’t want to be anyone’s ‘girl of the season.’ Not even his. Trent looked at you, his gaze intense, worry etched into his features. He didn’t know what to do, he couldn’t do anything and you loathed him for it. You averted your eyes, focusing instead on your drink, anything to avoid his gaze. Your heart was screaming that you weren’t. You’d wanted so badly for him to see you as more, for what you had together to mean something real. And now, you weren’t sure if it ever could.

The night had unraveled faster than you could process, and the hurt simmered, sharp and bitter, as the dinner ended. You didn’t look at Trent once more the rest of the night, you completely ignored him. Trent’s presence had been an ache next to you that you ignored, refusing to look his way, refusing to acknowledge him as if somehow that might make the pain hurt less. You were barely holding it together when you all stood up to leave. The others filed out, laughing and talking, but you pulled Jack aside and asked if he could drive you to Layla’s instead. Jack chuckled, a teasing grin on his face.

“Why did Trent even buy you that car if I’m always the one driving you around?” he teased, completely unaware of the turmoil swirling inside you. You forced a smile, ready to brush it off, but Trent stepped in, his voice firm.

“I’m heading that way, Y/N. Let me drop you at Lay’s,” he said. You snapped back a quick ‘No,’ trying to keep your tone dismissive, trying to make it sound like you just didn’t want to be a bother. But Jack insisted, scoffed teasingly, rolling his eyes.

“Go with him, Y/N. I don’t want to drive across town,” he said, half-joking, his car keys dangling in his hand as he made a show of locking his car door to prevent you from climbing in. Frustration bubbled up, and you were close to tears, caught between trying to hold it together and wanting to break down.

“Jack, please. Just drive me home then,” you whispered, your voice barely hiding the tremble. But after a bit more back and forth, with Jack being relentless and Trent silently waiting, the rest of the boys’ cars pulled out, Jack’s included, leaving you and Trent alone in the dark, quiet car park. The silence in the parking lot was thick, broken only by the distant sound of traffic and the soft hum of streetlights above. You stood there, feeling exposed, raw from the dinner that had stripped away your illusions. You wanted to hide, to be anywhere but here, but Trent’s gaze held you still. His eyes, so familiar and usually so gentle, were clouded with an intensity that made your chest ache.

“Come here,” he said quietly but sternly, his hand reaching out for you, his voice steady but soft. Trent was still, his face serious, any of the laughter from dinner completely gone.

“No,” you said sharply, pulling back. Your voice cracked, and you bit down hard on your lip to keep the tears at bay. “Just… don’t, Trent. Just leave me alone. I’m not going with you. I’ll call an uber.” You snipped. You wanted to shout, scream at him for everything you’d heard tonight and for the pain it had left you with, but you were too tired, too heartbroken to manage anything louder than a whisper. “Please leave me alone.” You whispered once more as the tears on your lash line finally tipped over. You felt the tears streaming down now, the anger and hurt tumbling out as you cried, unable to contain it any longer. But he wasn’t giving up.

“Y/N, look at me,” he said firmly, stepping closer, his voice firmer this time. “Do you know what year I won the Champions League?” His question made you flinch; the reminder of the stories his friends had told, of the girls they’d listed, was like salt in a wound. He was asking you to recall the very thing that hurt. He asked like the question mattered, like it would fix anything. You swallowed hard, struggling to keep your voice steady.

“I don’t care, Trent,” you whimpered, wiping a hand across your tear-streaked face.You glared at him, your eyes blazing with hurt. And then a different emotion appeared in full force. “I don’t care, T. I don’t care about any of it,” you snapped, wiping angrily at the tears falling faster. But he wasn’t deterred. His jaw was set, his eyes locked on yours, determined to make you hear him.

“The year I won the Champions League,” he began slowly, voice low but steady, “was the year you had that serious boyfriend.” His words hung between you like a confession, and for a second, you forgot to breathe. For context, he wasn't referring to Josh. You remembered that year — the love you’d thought you had found with another boy, the trust that had shattered when you’d learned of his cheating. But why was Trent bringing it up now? “I couldn’t stand it, Y/N,” he said, his voice softening, breaking just slightly. “I couldn’t stay home watching you be his. I needed… anything, anyone, to stop thinking about you with him. It hurt.” He explained but it wasn’t enough.

“Oh, am I supposed to feel bad for you, Trent? You needed a distraction while I was dating someone? He was cheating on me, okay?” The anger that had simmered in you suddenly flared up, burning bright. “So poor you. I’m so sorry that you had to fill your fucking bed with so many girls. And mind you so many that you couldn’t even be asked to be there for me during one of the worst years of my life. Trent, he was cheating on me! And now… now I’m here again, wondering if I’m just another ‘distraction’ for you.” You choked, the tears coming faster now, the memories making the hurt sting even more. “He had other women, and you’re doing the same thing. I’m never enough, Trent! You all always need someone else. Something more than me” You yelled generalizing all men. You were lumping Trent with every other man.

“Baby… please.” He begged with a pet name that made you wince at the minute. And while it wasn’t entirely correct what you were saying, there was truth in it. You took a step back, throwing your hands up, cutting him off.

“No! This is exactly what it is, Trent. I am never enough. I give everything, and it’s never enough for you… for any of you!” The words came out in a yell, louder than you intended, and in that moment, you couldn’t stop the full on sobs, letting them spill over, hot and blinding as they streamed down your face.

“Y/N, it’s not like that,” he said gently, reaching out to you, but you stepped back, crossing your arms as if to shield yourself from the pain. He shook his head, his eyes pleading, as he stepped closer trying again..

“This isn’t right,” you said, voice hoarse from crying. Trent was silent, his face losing its color as he took in the weight of your words. “We need to stop. I can’t… I can’t do this to Jack. Lying to him when he’s given me everything, and I’m giving it all to you, and to you I’m just… nothing.” The words cracked, a final, painful admission, the weight of it all too heavy to bear. Trent’s face crumpled with remorse, his gaze full of guilt, and without a word, he stepped into you, and this time, when he reached for you, you didn’t resist. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him, and for a moment, you let yourself be held, resting your forehead against his chest as you breathed in his familiar scent amidst your tears. He was warm, solid, and despite everything, being in his arms felt safe. You fought him for a moment, weakly pushing against his chest, but he held on, his grip steady and strong, grounding you as you let the tears fall. Shame and guilt washed over him, silent and heavy, as he held you close, feeling the depth of what he’d let happen. And for a moment, the world fell away, the pain eased by the warmth of his arms, though neither of you could find words to fix it.

“I know I don’t deserve you, but I promise… it’s not like that. It never has been with you. You’re not just another girl. I’ve waited so long, Y/N…” He quietly whispered, voice thick with emotion as he gently stroked your back. “I should’ve done more to stop it, I just… I don’t know but I know I fucked up at dinner. I know I’m not doing enough but I also don’t know how to make this better, but I want to. I want this. I want you. And I swear, it’s not a game for me.” His fingers brushed through your hair, his voice a soothing murmur, and you let yourself lean into him, the weight of your pain easing slightly. But as he held you, another ache rose in your chest, heavier, more real.

“It’s just… Jack is all I have, Trent,” you said, voice muffled against his chest. “You and Jack… you’re all I have left.” And the words tasted like truth, a bittersweet reminder of everything you’d lost, of the fragile balance you were trying so hard to keep. “I can’t do this.” You whimpered. “Not for something that isn’t even real to you.” You whispered. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, a soft, tender gesture that made your heart clench.

“I don’t want you to feel like…. like this isn’t real to me. If it’s even possible it’s so much more real than I ever thought possible and I’m sorry I’m shit at handling it.” His words hung in the cool night air, full of promise, and as he held you, the quiet between you was thick with things unsaid. You closed your eyes, letting yourself believe him for a moment, letting yourself hope that somehow, you wouldn’t have to choose, that somehow, you could keep them both. His arms were a steady warmth around you, and though the pain hadn’t faded completely, in this moment, it felt like maybe… just maybe… there was a way forward.

The car hummed softly beneath you as Trent pulled out of the parking space, his hand warm and steady around yours, grounding you in a way that was both comforting and bittersweet. The weight of the evening still sat heavily on your shoulders, the words exchanged at dinner echoing in your mind, each one pulling at the fragile threads of the trust you’d placed in him. But now, in this quiet moment, his hand was solid in yours, and that simple touch brought a calm you desperately needed. You shifted in your seat, leaning into him, feeling the warmth of his shoulder against your cheek as you closed your eyes, letting the silence settle between you. He brushed his thumb softly over your knuckles, a small but constant reassurance that he was here, that he was with you. The faint streetlights casted a gentle glow over the car’s interior, illuminating his face in the soft shadows, and you felt yourself easing just slightly, even as your heart continued to ache.

“Do you think…. Erm, T…Do you think I could just go to your house tonight?” you whispered, barely audible stumbling to get to the ask out. “I’m really sad, and I don’t want to sleep alone.” Your voice wavered, thick with tears, and you sniffled, trying to steady yourself. He looked at you, a gentle smile tugging at his lips as he took in the vulnerability you were offering, no walls, no defenses. It’s not that you didn’t want to see Layla. It was just that you knew if you told her what you heard tonight she’d have an opinion and it wasn’t that you didn’t value her thoughts, you just needed to get yours in order before you debriefed. Was Trent’s bed the best place to sort those? No, but you wanted his comfort, he’d always been your comfort.

“Yeah, pretty girl,” he murmured, a tenderness in his eyes that was almost enough to make you believe everything could be okay. “You can come be with me tonight. You can sleep with me whenever you want, okay? My baby.” His words wrapped around you like a promise, one that felt as real as the warmth of his hand around yours, and you nodded, your head finding its way back to his shoulder. For a while, you just stayed like that, nestled into him as he drove, his thumb tracing soothing patterns over your hand resting on his thigh. The city lights blurred softly as he drove, casting gentle reflections against the car windows, and you let yourself sink into the quiet comfort of his presence, each moment a balm to the ache in your heart.

When you reached his house, he parked and didn’t let go of your hand as you both made your way inside, guiding you gently through the door, his touch never wavering. Once inside, he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you, holding you like he never wanted to let go. You melted into him, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time all night, you felt yourself relax, the weight of the world slipping just a little as he held you.

He guided you to his bedroom and suddenly a big smile pulled on his face. Tiredly you asked him why he was smiling like that. You weren’t in the mood and really weren’t in the mood for any cheek. But that gorgeous cheeky smile all made sense once you were stood in Trent’s ensuite, holding a brand new pink Goyard wash bag in your hands. Despite everything weighing on your mind, you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. You traced the soft pink leather with your fingers, glancing back at him with a puzzled smile as he came into the room, his own grin lighting up his face.

“T… what is this?” you asked, holding it up. He chuckled, stepping closer.

“It’s the same one I have, because, obviously, it’s the best one,” he explained, “mine’s white but I got it for you in pink so it’s like a Mr. and Mrs. thing, you know?” The sincerity in his voice melted something inside you. You turned and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close, and he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

“Go on, open it though,” he urged gently, nodding toward the wash bag, his eyes bright with anticipation. You hadn’t even realized the weight of it, realizing that clearly there were things inside of it as well. You raised a brow, a little surprised—did he really go beyond the bag itself? Unzipping it, you peeked inside and felt an instant laugh bubbling up as you took in all the familiar beauty products you’d mentioned to him the other night, each one carefully packed. You looked up at him in disbelief, a smile stretching across your face as he rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “I actually had to ask my mum to come with me,” he confessed, laughing as he watched your expression. “Didn’t want to look like a complete idiot in the beauty section.” You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought, picturing him awkwardly shuffling through the aisles, trying to get it all right.

“You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, shaking your head with affection. Trent pulled you closer, his hand resting on the small of your back as he looked down at you, his voice softer now.

“You’re my only girl, alright? You know you always have been. I’m sorry that I did things that made it seem like you weren’t. I’m sorry it took me so long to show you that…Only girl I’d ever pay that kind of money for ounces of cream for.” He laughed, clearly mocking the price tag on your La Mer moisturizer. “But for you… anything.” And with that, the tears you’d been trying so hard to hold back started spilling over. You wiped at them with the back of your hand, giggling through your sniffles, embarrassed but touched beyond words.

“Stop, baby!” he laughed, reaching up to gently swipe a tear off your cheek with his thumb. “Please no more tears. I hate when you cry so, so much,” he whispered, pulling you close again.

“Sorry,” you murmured, a soft giggle slipping out as you looked up at him. You stood on your tiptoes, pressing a tender kiss to his lips, feeling the warmth and safety of him radiate through you. Trent brushed his nose against yours, his hand cradling your cheek as he whispered,

“I’ve got you, pretty girl. Always.” And for the first time in a while, you felt your heart settle, the ache easing just a little as you held onto him, feeling the promise of his words wrap around you.

You crawled into Trent’s bed, pulling back the covers, and let out a surprised laugh when you saw the smooth, cool silk pillowcases he’d swapped in just for you. Trent stood nearby, watching your reaction with a smirk, his hands on his hips.

“See?” he teased, puffing up a little as if he’d won a major victory. “Got the silk pillowcases and everything. I’m in, baby.” He cooed proudly. This act so clearly showed he was making an effort. You couldn’t help but feel your heart melt at the gesture, a warmth spreading across your chest.

“You actually do the most,” you said, shaking your head, but the grin on your face gave you away. The fact that he’d followed through with something so small, something that made you feel comforted and at home, touched you deeply. He moved closer, and you reached out, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent—a mix of his cologne and the lingering warmth of the day. He wrapped his strong arms around you, holding you like he never wanted to let go. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek.

“Thank you,” you whispered softly, your voice barely audible. You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. “Thank you for liking me… for doing all of this.” His eyes softened, and he gazed at you with such tenderness that it made your throat tighten.

“Always,” he murmured. He cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones, then kissed your forehead. The touch was gentle, lingering, as if he wanted to press his feelings directly into your skin. You both climbed into bed, and as you got comfortable, you found yourself settling halfway on top of him, your back resting against his side, your legs tangled with his. His hand found its way to your collarbone, tracing light, lazy patterns that sent shivers down your spine. His touch was calming, grounding you in a way that made you feel safer than you had in a long time. In the dim light, with only the moon casting soft shadows across the room, you found the courage to ask something that had been weighing on your mind.

“T... Do you think…” you started, your voice hesitant, “we’ll ever be able to really go out together? Like, just… be out in the open?” You asked. The vulnerability in your voice made Trent pause. He turned his head slightly to look at you, his expression earnest. A gentle smile pulled at his lips.

“Yeah, course if you want that,” he said, his voice full of quiet conviction. His fingers paused in their gentle tracing, and he shifted slightly to look at you more directly. “I mean… things have been good between us I thought but I also didn’t know you wanted that. For us to like go on a date or anything. I wasn’t sure if you liked the secrecy. I don’t know what you thought.” He explained to you sheepishly. Clearly things worked well between you in the bedroom and while you had no problem discussing that, it was also so glaringly obvious there was more to this relationship than just the sex… you just hadn’t said it yet. You bit your lip, feeling both shy and exposed.

“I do,” you admitted. “I mean, I know it’s complicated, but… I just want to be with you.” He smiled again, this time with a deeper, knowing affection.

“I want that too. I really do,” he told you. “I just didn’t know how serious you wanted this to be. But if you want it… then I’m in. Silk pillow cases, dates, whatever you want.” His words made your heart flutter, and for a moment, the world felt a little brighter. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but this time they were happy ones. You didn’t say anything more, afraid that if you spoke, you might start crying for real. Instead, you leaned in and kissed his jaw, your lips lingering as you tried to show him everything you couldn’t put into words. That night, there was no urgency between you, no rush to tear each other’s clothes off or tumble into anything wild. Instead, there was a softness that blanketed the room, a shared vulnerability that felt like a bridge between your hearts. You both exchanged gentle, lingering kisses that were more about comfort and closeness than anything else, the tender brush of lips and shared warmth easing the hurt from earlier. As you settled into the soft sheets, the familiar comfort of his bed easing the ache in your chest. His hands gentle as they traced soothing patterns over your back. You curled into him, your legs tangling with his, seeking out every ounce of warmth and comfort he could offer. As you laid there, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I want you.” He murmured softly. “And only you. Always have.” The sincerity in his voice made your heart squeeze, and you found yourself finally breathing a little easier. And as you drifted to sleep, his arms wrapped securely around you, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you could allow yourself to believe in him, in this, in a future where he was more than just a fleeting presence in your life. You squeezed his hand once more, a silent promise to yourself that tonight, at least, you could find peace in his arms. When you finally drifted off, you did so with your head on his chest, your arms wrapped tightly around his torso, your cheek pressed against the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Your face was relaxed, your pouty bottom lip just barely brushing his skin. Trent lay there, his hand stroking your back in gentle circles, the other cradling the back of your head. He pressed soft kisses to your hairline, whispering to you even though you were already half-asleep. He stayed awake longer, watching the soft, peaceful expression on your face as you dreamed. Guilt twisted in his chest as he thought about how hurt you’d been earlier, how you’d tried to hide it but couldn’t quite keep the pain from seeping through. He wished he could take it all back, erase the moments that made you doubt him. The memory of your stricken face during dinner haunted him, and he knew he had to make it right. His mind began to work on a plan, a way to take you out on a real date, one that wouldn’t be about sneaking around or hiding. He wanted to show you off, to be open about how much you meant to him. He imagined a perfect night, one that would make you smile so brightly that he could forget the hurt he’d caused. As he held you, his chest tightening with how much he cared for you, he promised himself he’d make it happen. You were his only girl, always had been, and he was determined to show you that in every way possible. Even if he couldn’t fix the past, he’d make sure the future was full of moments where you never had to doubt what you meant to him.

After that dinner, things settled back into something you could only describe as uneasy but fine. You still were living this double life, lying to Jack. Keeping the extent of your new life beyond the first fuck from Layla. On the inside of houses, the confines of bedrooms, everything felt perfect; the chemistry with Trent was undeniable, and whenever you were together, it felt like the two of you were building something real. But the moment he left, that foundation started to shake. Alone, doubts crept in, the taunting whispers of insecurity that left you questioning every detail. The laughs and comments from the dinner echoing in your mind. Was this how he made every ‘girl of the season’ feel? Were they all secrets he kept? His history loomed over him. It made you wonder, was this just the same story with you? Only now, Jack's little sister had the lead role, the fact making you feel more self conscious of how he viewed you.

Layla's constant questions, innocent but probing, made it worse. She didn't know the real extent of what was going on, only that something had happened. She knew you fucked but after that… you kept your lips sealed. Saying you weren't sure either, which was a half truth... you didn't but you also were omitting the fact that you were spending night's together. And while you wanted to confide in her, every part of you held back, afraid of exposing too much-afraid it would all unravel the moment it wasn't hidden. More people couldn’t know, it was too risky. The secrecy felt safe but also confining, and your chest ached every time you thought of it. The double life weighed on you more than you'd ever let on to Trent. And yet, when he messaged you during his away game, that familiar excitement flared up, and you felt that ache turn into something else, a want to remind him of you, make him feel how much chemistry you two had. For the moment you were hidden but after the dinner, after his promises you wanted to make sure he was certain. He texted asking to call you. You were nervous to agree but who wouldn’t want to facetime Trent Alexander-Arnold in bed. You weren’t sure how to act at first but then you decided– You wanted to make it clear you wanted him. You wanted to make him want you. Apprehensive but determined, you sifted through your wardrobe quickly, finding the boldest, most daring piece of sleepwear you owned. It was underwear disguised as something casual. You finally sat in front of the camera, as his call pinged through your phone. You answered, and immediately his jaw dropped.

"Oh my fucking days," he murmured, his voice low, a mixture of shock and hunger flashing in his eyes. The look he gave you sent a thrill through your entire body.

"Hi," you cooed, feigning innocence as you adjusted your posture slightly, giving him an even better view. A small, mischievous smile tugged at your lips. You wanted this to be memorable. Trent leaned closer to the screen, shaking his head with disbelief and lust flaring behind his eyes.

"You look unreal. Fucking hell," he said, his gaze tracing every curve as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. You felt a rush of power, the distance fading as he soaked up every detail of your look. But it wasn’t just the look, it was everything; the clearly recently lotioned skin, the faux innocence, the vibes were just everything Trent would want.

"I just want to make sure you don’t think of me only as Jack's sister." You met his eyes, holding his gaze as you whispered. The words hung in the air, a truth you'd wanted to tell him for a while figuring now while you had his attention would work.

"Trust me, he's the last thing I'm thinking about right now," Trent chuckled, still in awe, his eyes glued to you.

"I hope you’re not thinking about other girls while you’re away," you murmured almost as a test but simultaneously a tease running a hand slowly along your raised collarbone over to your shoulder, playing with the delicate strap of your bra as his breath visibly caught.

"Trust me, they're the last thing I'm thinking about," he repeated, his tone shifting, voice raw. “I don’t know who you’re even talking about, baby.” You could see it in his eyes-there was no one else he wanted right now. And that single, unspoken promise was all you needed to feel. “I don’t want any of that. You know that.I want you. Don’t play me, baby.” He smirked, his voice dropping, filled with a frustrated need that made your pulse quicken.

“I’m not playing.” You stretched out languidly, letting your voice drop to a purr. “Just thought you might like a little reminder of what’s back at home for you.” You told him.

“Trust me, I don’t need one.” His voice softened, a hint of a smile in it now. “You’re all I think about. So don’t tease me like this. Oh my days, Y/N…” His eyes lit even more as the bra top was practically falling off.

“Yeah?” you asked, feigning a nonchalant surprise. You could almost feel the tension through the phone. As you toyed with Trent, pulling down the thin strap of your bra, his breath hitched. The teasing, the slow build—it was intoxicating, leaving him hanging on every move you made. He was completely fixated as you gradually peeled away each item of clothing, your body on full display, leaning back against your bed, meeting his gaze with a mischievous smile. His reaction was instant, a low groan escaping him.

"Oh my god," he breathed, raking a hand over his curls, unable to tear his eyes away. Just as you began to lower the phone whilst opening your legs. A shiver ran through you. Feeling bolder than ever with what you were about to do.

"Hold on-my phone's about to d-” You glanced away from the camera, then, without warning, hung up, pretending the call had dropped. Your phone dead. The silence that followed was deafening on his end. For a moment, Trent just blinked, waiting for you to reappear, only to realize you weren't coming back. It dawned on him that you'd left him high and dry, and he almost laughed in disbelief but the strain in his jogger was excruciating. This wasn’t funny at all. Not to him. It wasn’t long before the messages began flooding your phone, his name lighting up your screen as he called again and again.

Trent was spinning out. He couldn’t believe that just happened. You settled back against the pillows, heart pounding as you watched the texts roll in. Your phone buzzed—one, two, three times in a row again and again.

But then you turned it off though to play the part. Still, you laid there opting to grab your laptop staring at his messages flood in with a smile. This felt good. It was so easy to believe him when you were together, to let yourself feel like the only girl on his mind. But alone, doubts crept in, filling the space he left behind. Still, you couldn’t deny the thrill of making him wait for once. He called but your phone was off or ‘dead’ in his mind. He prayed you’d fucking charge it now. He was desperate for you and only you. He was almost embarrassed he had called and texted so many times but he wanted you so badly but as time ticked on he knew this was not an accident, this was chess, Begrudgingly he took matters into his own hands literally. Hours later, you finally responded to his barrage of messages, typing with a grin tugging at your lips. You had left him out to dry and you kind of loved the power switch.

You wrote, knowing very well he was the culprit who'd taken your charger in an effort to hide things from Jack the other day. Your message was cheeky and taunting, almost blaming him for why he didn't get to have the call continue. Really just hammering home that you knew what you were doing. You could practically feel his frustration through the screen as he replied, a flurry of texts that only made you smirk, still desperate for you. His handiwork would never match what you offered.. You had him exactly where you wanted him, and something told you he wouldn't let you get away with this so easily and you couldn't’ wait.

The anticipation had been building for a whole day after the call, ever since Trent's away game ended. You knew he'd be coming back to you straight away. You had teased him mercilessly during that facetime, flaunting your body and hinting at all the naughty things he could do to you when he returned. But then your phone died or you could also say well… you just hung up. His desperate pleas over texts only fueled your excitement, and you couldn't wait to have him back in your arms, and beneath you or under you. You didn’t care. Jack was out and you were in… and in and just in a tiny tank top and panties. As soon as Trent walked through the door, his eyes locked onto yours, burning with a mixture of desire and frustration. He strode purposefully towards your bedroom, just moving straight past you and straight to the point, his broad shoulders exuding confidence and determination. You followed, unable to resist the pull of his magnetic presence. It was like he came in and didn’t need to say a thing because you knew he was frustrated. Not actually, just sexually and you liked it the build up. You had to fight back a giggle as you came into your room after him, plopping yourself on the bed.

"Baby," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly as he stood in your room. You couldn’t read the inflection. It almost sounded like he was disappointed? Was he actually mad? Momentarily you were nervous but he looked so god damn sexy like this, hungry almost, you wanted to keep up your game just to see what would happen. You were lying on the bed, your hair cascading over the pillows, a seductive smile playing on your lips.

"Did you miss me?" you teased, propping yourself up on your elbows, your tits straining against the thin fabric of your tank top. Trent's eyes darkened at the sight, his gaze flicking between your face and your exposed cleavage. "I'm tired, I won’t lie" you continued, feigning innocence. "You must be too from the flight. Maybe we can just catch up on some sleep tonight.” You knew you were being a tease, and the thought of driving him wild excited you even more.

Then there was a shift in the room. He came over to you, his hand picked up your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“You’re not tired.” Trent growled, a low sound that sent shivers down your spine. He told you very matter of fact. "You've been so naughty, baby…teasing me like that," he said, his voice laced with a possessive edge. "You know how much I thought about you dressed like that in this bed alone in my hotel." A rush of heat flooded your cheeks as you realized the extent of your power over him. You'd left him with a constant ache, his cock throbbing and heavy with desire. But the shift in power was singly like a pendulum. Now back to you.

"I know, baby," you cooed, reaching out to stroke his cheek. "But you like it when I'm a bad girl, don't you?" Trent's eyes blazed with passion as he grabbed your hand, pressing a heated kiss to your palm.

"No, baby… I like when you’re a good girl f’me. And you've been a very bad girl, and I'm not having that," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "You’re gonna be a good girl now. Right now. And I’m gonna take what's mine.” He said ferociously but steadily calm as he climbed onto the bed, straddling your waist, his hard muscles pressing into your soft curves. You gasped as his weight settled on you, his erection straining against his trousers, pressing into your core through the thin fabric of your panties. His hands roamed over your body, squeezing and kneading your tits through your top, causing your nipples to pebble in response. "You like being my good girl though, don't you, baby?" he growled, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "You like it when I touch you, when I take what I want." You arched into his touch, your breath coming in short gasps.

"Yeah huh, T," you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. Your resolve crumbling, the game falling to pieces instantly.

“I know you do. And right now I want you.but you didn’t seem to want me…” he taunted, still teasing you. “ So beg.” He commanded.

"I need you please. Please T… I’m sorry.” You whined. The tides turned so fast. The power dynamic has returned to where it was before. With a growl, he tore your top off, baring your tits to his hungry gaze. His mouth claimed one taut peak, sucking and nibbling, while his hand cupped the other, rolling and tugging gently. Your back arched off the bed further, offering yourself to him, your hands threading through his hair, urging him on.

"See? Such a good girl," he murmured between kisses, his hands now exploring your body, sliding down your stomach, tracing the waistband of your panties. "But….” He began and your heart skipped a beat. What did you get yourself into? “Can’t be acting like that. You've been so bad, baby. You’re not doing all that with me. I’m in charge, hmm?” He hummed. You whimpered as he hooked his fingers under the elastic, slowly sliding your panties down your thighs, exposing your glistening pussy to his hungry gaze. His eyes devoured you, taking in every detail of your swollen lips and the dampness between your thighs. "So wet for me. You like this, don’t you? Me in charge of you. In control." he growled, his voice thick with desire. You nodded. He was 1000% correct. You weren’t sure you’d ever been more turned on in your life. "You’re gonna take my cock now.” He shifted, positioning himself between your thighs, his cock straining against his trousers. With one swift motion, he ripped at the button and zipper, freeing his thick length. You moaned at the sight, your pussy clenching in anticipation.

"Please, baby. I want your cock. I’m so sorry," you begged, your voice breathless. "I need you inside me." He didn't make you wait long. You thought he’d draw out the teasing but neither of you could wait any longer. With one powerful thrust, he filled you, stretching and claiming you in one stroke. You cried out, your body welcoming him, your walls gripping and milking his length.the stretch was deliciously painful. You were so tight from minimal prep but god you were wet he just slid in.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as he began to move, his hips snapping forward, driving into you with fierce possessiveness. It was clear immediately this was going to be a rough fuck. "You're mine, baby. All mine." You wrapped your legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts with your own, your bodies moving in perfect rhythm. His hands gripped your hips, leaving marks on your skin as he pounded into you, his cock hitting your sweet spot with every stroke.

"You like it rough, don't you, baby?" he panted, his breath hot against your neck as he nibbled and sucked on the sensitive skin. "You want me to fuck you hard?" He asked with a smirk you could feel. “Gonna have you begging for more of me.”

"Yes, please," you whimpered, your head thrown back, your body on fire. "I want it all. I want you to take me, own me." You’d never acted so submissive in your life. This was like an alternative universe only he could create. Trent obliged to your pleas eagerly, his movements becoming more primal, more demanding. Trent kept one hand on your hip guiding your movements but brought his other up your body, his hand wrapping around your neck, eyes pinned to yours. You gasped feeling his tip smashing against your cervix and orgasm barrelling towards you. But then he surprised you by letting go of your neck, slowing his pace ever so much so that the coil loosened in your stomach, the climax retreating momentarily. He was playing games with you. “You wanted to play with me, baby the other day? I’ll play with you.” He taunted. He moved his hand off your neck and up to cup your cheek. Then swiftly he dragged his thumb across your lips. He slipped it into your mouth with ease as he pulled your mouth open by your bottom lip. He spit his saliva into your mouth and you swallowed diligently with a moan before he pushed his thumb all the way back in for you to suck on it like you would his cock. He groaned when your eyes began to flutter closed with a whine, simultaneously swirling your tongue around his finger.

“Such a good girl f’me.” he gripped your chin looking longingly into your eyes. He loved everything about this. Being in control of you. You letting him control you. You wanting him to control you. He tucked his face in the nape of your neck. He nibbled on your sensitive skin. His hair tickling you. Hoarse grunts escaping him as you soaked him. He hit that spot deep inside you, only he knew. All you could think about was the way he hit that spot again and again, continuously. He felt so good when he dropped his hand between you to rubbing your throbbing clit. He knew how to make you cum and he was going to do it well but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let you. So he pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach, throwing you around like a rag doll, positioning you on all fours, your ass raised high in the air, your back arched to perfection, presenting yourself to him. With a possessive growl, he smacked your ass, leaving a stinging imprint of his hand. "Why’d you have to act like such a naughty fucking girl, baby?" he whispered, his hot breath caressing your sensitive skin. But instead of a whine, you moaned in pleasure. You liked when he slapped your ass. "You like it when I punish you, don't you?" He smirked, mildly surprised that you were this down for him to have this much control. Obviously you knew each other well but in the bedroom you were still finding things out.

"Yes," you moaned, your voice hoarse as you pushed back against him, inviting more because you knew more were coming. Trent’s hand rained down on your ass, slap after slap, again and again, leaving a symphony of slaps and marks that would remind you of his dominance. Finally once he felt it was sufficient he let a line of his spit fall onto your ass. He watched it run down over your ass and into the folds of your pussy. His hands caressed the fat of your ass.

"You've been a bad girl, teasing me," he said, his voice thick with desire. "Just gotta fuck it out of you now, yeah? Make you my good girl again." He cooed as he positioned himself behind you and began to tease you, dragging his leaking tip across the smooth skin of your ass before slipping it between your folds teasing your entrance. He slowly pushed his cock into your pussy without another word. You were completely drenched. You could feel yourself coat his length in your slick again and again as he drilled in and out of you. The recoil of your ass from his hard thrusts had Trent in pure heaven. God, it must’ve been a good 30 minutes of him just blowing your back out.

"Oh, fuck!" you exclaimed, your hands gripping the sheets as he pounded into you, his hips slapping against your ass, the sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the room. “I’m gonna c-.” you cried out, your body trembling.

“No!” He commanded and you whined as he pulled out, halting it all. “You’re gonna keep taking my cock.” He told you as he slid back in and so you did. You kept taking him “That's it, baby," he grunted, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he fucked you with abandon. "Take it, take all of me." You cried out as he slammed into you, his cock hitting your G-spot with every stroke, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your orgasm building, coiling tight in your core, every inch of your body alive with sensation.“ You’re mine, baby. Understand?” He said it was a seriousness and a harshness that made goosebumps arise on your skin.

"I can’t… oh my fucking god. I'm gonna cum, T," you panted, your nails digging into the sheets as you fought for release. "I’m gonna cum, fuck– please." You whined. You moaned as your vision began to blur a little from how good it all felt.

"Not yet, baby," he growled, his voice rough. "You’re gonna keep taking me because I said so. You asked for this. I want you to feel me, feel every inch of me." He reached around, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing and pinching the sensitive bud as he continued to pound into you. Your moans filled the room, a mixture of pleasure and desperation.

"Please, T, oh my god," you begged, your body on the brink. "I need to cum. Please."

"Not until I say so," he commanded, his voice harsh. "You don't get to come until I'm ready to fill you up with my cum." His words sent a shockwave of desire through you, and you surrendered to his control, your body his to command. “You continued throwing your ass back as he fucked you relentlessly, his cock driving into your pussy with brutal force, his fingers working your clit with expert precision. "That's it, baby, let me see how much you want it," he grunted, his breath hot against your neck. "You're mine, every inch of you. I own this pussy. I get to decide when you cum.” After a few more strokes, that were gradually getting rougher you heard it, the command you’d be aching for. “Cum f’me baby. Cum now.” His words pushed you over the edge, and you exploded around him, your pussy clenching and milking his cock as you cried out his name. “Fuck, baby. Gonna cum, alright? Doing so good, baby.” He grunted as his thrusts became messy and unregulated before he came inside of you, filling you up to the brim. his cock twitching and pulsing as he filled you with his hot release. You collapsed onto the bed, your body spent and satisfied. He gently pulled out of you but was quick to push his two fingers along with his leaking cum back inside you for a few moments longer. "You wanna cum again f’me, pretty girl?" He cooed.

“Oh fuck- oh my god.” You whined, body gone almost limp but craving more insatiably. His fingers easily sliding in and out of your pussy, finding that magical spot deep inside. He rubbed and pressed your clit as his fingers curled deeper from behind. You cried out, your body exploding in another mind-blowing orgasm. Trent smugly and quietly laughed not at you but just happy you were feeling so good. As your bodies calmed, Trent's softer side emerged as he gently rolled you onto your back, his eyes filled with love and adoration before he collapsed onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms. He kissed you tenderly, his hands stroking your hair, his touch now gentle and caring. He held you close, his strong arms offering comfort and protection. You could feel his heart pounding against you, and his breath was warm on your skin.

"My good girl," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Did so good f’me. You okay?” You smiled, your heart full as you snuggled into his embrace, content in the afterglow of your passionate encounter.

"I love being your good girl, T," you murmured, savoring the warmth of his body against yours.

"You were more than that, baby. Honestly, that was fucking unreal," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "I love making you feel good." You snuggled closer, your body still buzzing with pleasure.

"That’s good because you make me feel amazing.” you tiredly giggled. “But…I do really like when you take control, baby," you confessed, your voice soft and sated. "It makes me feel so fucking… I don’t know wanted or something. I like knowing you want me like that.” You poorly explained in your post orgasmic haze. He chuckled, the sound low and warm.

"I do want you, more than you know. And I promise, I'll always take care of you…. Especially after wanting you like that." He smirked. He gently caressed your hair, his touch tender and loving. "Let's clean you up, my pretty girl," he said, his voice filled with affection. He helped you into the shower, the warm water washing away the remnants of your passionate encounter. Trent's hands were gentle as he soaped your body, his touch sending shivers of pleasure through your tired limbs. You leaned into him, your body still limp from the intensity of your orgasms, but he held you close, his strong arms offering relentless support. There was a physical and emotional feeling of warmth with him. He just wanted to wrap around you and keep you with him all the time. He was completely consumed by the thought. Seeing you so fragile after sex just sent a feeling alight inside he didn’t quite no how to label.

"You're so good to me, T," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude. He’d always taken care of you but now it was different… so different, so intimate and you both were recognizing it. He kissed the top of your head, his lips soft against your hair.

"I will always take care of you, baby. I always have, I always will." He cooed as the water washed away the sweat and passion of your lovemaking, Trent's gentle care and adoration filled the void, leaving you feeling cherished and adored. You knew in that moment that this was more than just physical attraction. It was a deep, profound connection, but one you craved beyond the boundaries of the bedroom.

That next morning was a slow, honeyed glow, filtering through the curtains and casting a soft light over the room. The world felt paused, as if the universe had frozen to let you both linger in this quiet perfection a little longer. The warmth of Trent’s skin was the only anchor you needed, the steady beat of his heart a lullaby against your cheek as you lay entwined, tangled together under the weight of the blankets and something far deeper. He shifted slightly, his body moving with that half-conscious care to keep you close, and you felt his breath stir your hair, a sigh caught somewhere between sleep and waking. As he moved, you instinctively tightened your hold, pressing yourself closer, unwilling to let him slip even an inch away.

“MmNmm,” you murmured, a soft, sleepy protest as you shook your head against his chest, feeling the rumble of his chuckle in response.

“Nah, course not,” he laughed at you, his voice still heavy with sleep, But he was only teasing, he was loving that you didn’t want him to move. He lent down, pressing his lips to the top of your head in a lingering kiss, his breath warm against your hair. His hand drifted down your back, tracing gentle patterns, like he was memorizing every inch of you. “My pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice a tender whisper, more to himself than to you, like he still couldn’t believe this was real. The sound of his words washed over you, filling you with a warmth that went beyond the touch of his skin. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes as he gazed down at you, his expression so soft and open, filled with a quiet awe that made your heart ache. He brushed a stray strand of hair from your face with a gentle hand, his fingers lingering, tracing the curve of your cheek as if you were something precious, something fragile. “Nah you’re actually so gorgeous, baby,” he cooed, a little smile playing on his lips as his thumb brushed your cheek. He studied you, his eyes tracing every detail of your face as if he were afraid he’d wake up and find this had all been a dream. His other hand slipped around your waist, pulling you even closer, holding you like he’d never let you go. You couldn’t help but sleepily smile, your own hands finding their way to his, fingers lacing together as you pulled his arm around you, tucking yourself against him. “Can’t believe I finally have you with me,” he whispered, almost like he was speaking to himself, his voice tinged with wonder and something deeper, something vulnerable. You didn’t need to say anything; words felt unnecessary in the soft, stolen space between you. Instead, you pressed a gentle kiss to his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under your lips, letting the silence say everything that you couldn’t.

“You feel like a dream sometimes.” After a while, you finally spoke up when something other than sheer bliss came into your head. His arms tightened around you, his thumb gently stroking your side, sending a shiver through you that made you feel acutely, blissfully alive. He tilted your chin up, his lips meeting yours in a soft, unhurried kiss, so full of affection it left you breathless. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hand cupping your face as he held you there, his gaze deep and intent.

“You’ve been my dream,” he murmured softly, brushing his thumb across your cheek. You felt his fingers run through your hair, tucking it behind your ear with the same careful attention, his eyes never leaving yours as he continued to trace slow circles on your back. He rested his forehead against yours, his breathing soft and steady, and for a moment, you both stayed there, your breaths mingling in the small space between you. The morning stretched on, time losing meaning as you lay there, cocooned in each other’s arms. The world outside could wait; for now, all that mattered was the quiet perfection of this moment, of being held, of being seen, of feeling his heart beat in time with yours. It was a feeling you wanted to hold on to forever, a softness that seemed to live only in the rare, untouched hours of early morning.

•

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

Next part - Chapter 8 - Caught in The Kitchen, Hidden in The Bathroom xx

#trent alexander arnold #Trent Alexander Arnold x reader #alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #taa x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader #fie fic #Movie Night Fic

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leafostuff · 7 months ago

Text

Welcome to the CATS club [Ft. kep1er Chaehyun]

Tags: Fluff, Cuddles, Comfort-ish?, Sweet talk, No beta we die like Chaehyun's Scalp

Author's note: worked on this for a while but i am proud to finally release this, make sure to tune in later for an announcement regarding my activities on the app

And have fun reading this cute fluff

=================================

“Are you sure this is the right place?”

You say to your best friend through the phone, you are confused after he calls you at 8 AM claiming he has found a way to cure your loneliness, which all he did was send you a random address to a place called “CATS” without much explanation

You were reluctant to agree but after thinking out loud, you realize that there isnt much to lose, worst case scenario you wasted an hour or so trying something new.

“Im sure bro, i had a friend of my cousin go here, 2 hours later and he never felt more relaxed” he speaks with confidence and without a choice you sigh in defeat

“Ok, whatever” you say, saying a quick goodbye before ending the call, you look at the place: quite the average look for a morning club, you can see from the outside people having casual talks, some laughing and overall having a good time,

As you get inside the place you hear a ding from the doorbell above you, soon after hearing a feminine voice saying “Hey, come here”.

Locating the origin of the voice it comes from the counter at the other side of the lobby, a girl around her early twenties, close to your age waves at you, signaling you to walk toward her

“Welcome, it's always a treat to see a new face coming here, what's your name” she asks, her voice is quite soft yet energetic.

“Oh, i'm Lee Jihoon, nice to meet you ms…” you say, reaching your hand for a handshake, she simply laughs and shakes your hand back

“Chaehyun, Kim Chaehyun” she exclaims, smiling lightly at you before she continues to talk “Now then: how did you find out about our club?” She asks

“Oh, a good friend of mine recommended me this place” you answer “i must say though: for a club that calls itself ‘CATS’, there isnt a lot of cats going around here, are they like sleeping or something” you say, trying to see if you miss any however as you look back at Chaehyun she looks quite puzzled

“Why would there be any animals here?”

“This is a cat cafe, no?”

Your question make her surprised for a second but soon after she begins to giggle, you are not sure if you said something dumb.

“I guess your friend didn't tell you when he recommended this place didn't he” she asks, you are not sure what to respond but she continues, “CATS is an acronym for ‘Club against touch starvation’” she explains but you are still confused.

“Club Against touch starvation?”

“Basically: this place is a cuddle club” she says cheerfully as everything makes more sense now, looking around again you notice how people are holding hands, laying their head on someone's, some even hugging each other as you could feel yourself getting more and more uncomfortable

“Oh…i didnt turn turn you off from the idea, didnt i?” She asks, tilting her head as she looks worried, it may be part of her job to ask however her eyes genuinely looked like it was real.

“No no, its not that…its just”

“Not what you were expecting?” She asks as you nodded, “Well makes sense, our club name is easily confused, and i guess your friend didnt know” she added, you sighed as this logic did seem sound considering your best friend didn't really explain to you about the club itself, as you were starting to turn away and walk out of the club, Chaehyun quickly moved in front of you.

“i have an idea” She exclaimed, “I will have today for you completely on the house, i will show you around, you just try to soak in the vibe of the place and after this you will make your decision about this club? I have a feeling you will really like it here” she explains

You couldn't lie to yourself that even though this idea seemed completely off from what you expected when you got in here, you were curious about this place now, more than before, so as you look around, you slowly nod as Chaehyun eyes shine at your response

“Great!!, follow me will you?” she said as you happily joined her, throughout the tour she showed you all of the places you need to know, from the lobby to the cafe itself, the place is full of sofas where people are all cuddled up with each other (“just know that if you are not comfortable with cuddling you can always sit on the barstools” she says, she knows you are still nervous).

“Hey, you're there? You look like zoned out for a sec there” Chaehyun’s voice gets you out of your inner monologue.

“yeah yeah i am here, is the tour over?” You ask

“Almost, the only thing left is the quiet rooms” she says, pointing toward them. “Those rooms are mostly used for people that feel uncomfortable cuddling in public, or just some people who wants to nap” she adds

“This is actually is my favourite part of the club, as i go there to nap during my breaks” she jokingly says, letting herself release a quick laugh as from her pocket she takes out a key and opens one of the doors, “Lets go in?”

You both head inside, the room itself isn't that big, just enough for a double mattress and 2 couches, “Wow… i got to say, this place is quite impressive” you say, now sitting on the couch as Chaehyun finds her spot on the mattress.

“I know, right? I am actually one of the Co founders of the place” she says, catching you off guard

“You are joking right?”

“Dead serious, my best friend is the owner of the club, and i am the first one who joined her business” she explains, her position now switches from her sitting on the bed to now lying front down, looking at you with a peaceful yet still sweet smile

A bit nervous, you ask, “why are looking me like that”

“Sorry sorry its just like…what are you doing here?” She responds with a question

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, people come here because feel depressed, lonely or just…need someone to hug her, but from the 30 or so minutes that i know, you seem like someone who doesn't really need this place” she explains, you can see from her face she is trying to navigate that question without offending you.

“Well, my friend is the one who suggested me this place, you can always ask him” you respond, jokingly

“Well, he must've suggested this place for a reason, no? So something must go on in your life”

You stay quiet for a moment as the moment became more serious even Chaehyun's face changed from cheerful yo to worried, not sure what to say but soon you continue talking

“I mean…it has been a while since that happened but i did break up with my ex 4 months ago” you explain, just remembering this makes your heart ache again.

“I see…makes sense why your friend told you to come here” Chaehyun says

“I dont know, i doubt that i am feeling sad just because of that” you respond however she simply sighed before she continues to talk

“Well you see, while breakup itself may have not been affecting you, it is something important when it comes to touch deprivation, have you two used to cuddle a lot?” She asks as you respond with a simple nod, “so your body does miss the physical touch you had" she adds

“Hmm…that makes sense, and its not like i hug others” you add, thinking about her explanation

“You see, for a lot of people, the idea of being hugged or even being touched by someone that isnt your partner is inappropriate or even weird…but not here” she explains, now patting the side of her signaling you to sit as hesitantly you get up from the couch and move to the mattress near her, getting up and now sitting near you

“In this club we believe that physical touch is the best way to heal from the life experience, if its a breakup with your special one or a loss of a family member” Chaehyun adds, you now notice that while she was talking, her hand inched slowly toward you before stopping near your hand while her eyes directly staring at yours, as if telepathically she asks ‘Can i?’

Your heartbeat starts to race while your cheeks reveal a shade of pink, but you manage to take a deep breath and nod in agreement, Chaehyun smiles lightly at your response.

“And if you feel uncomfortable just say and I'll stop, okay?”

“Got it” you answer, her hand now intertwining with yours, “I am just starting with this ok?” she says, now her thumb rubbing on the skin of your palm.

“You can also rub mine if you want” you oblige as your thumb joins her, “just like that hehe…yeah” she giggles, try to make some form of eye contact with you but your too nervous so the best you can do is look down.

“This first step is good for people who have been touch deprived for a while” she adds

“You really…know your way about this stuff don't you?” You ask, it isn't too weird, right? You are already feeling awkward by the situation, so this would turn it up to 11.

“Yeah haha” she chuckles, now its her turn to blush, “this is actually my specialty In this place, so knowing about all of this stuff is kind of my job”

“What do you mean?” You ask

“Well, for a lot of people, this type of club is embarrassing for the first time, so I am there to ease people into the concept,” Chaehyun explains, now her thumb doing little drawings on the back of your hand instead of just rubbing it.

“Oh…that's cool” you sheepishly hum, looking away, your hand holding mate noticed you as she giggles lightly.

“You are doing very well Jihoon, i am surprised you already getting comfortable as someone who just came here 30 minutes ago” Chaehyun says, her left hand now grabbing your left hand, mirroring the right hand in rubbing your skin as you could feel the heat of your cheeks rising higher and higher.

“Would you like to go to the next step?” She asks

“There is a next step?”

“Only if you are comfortable, it's nothing drastic” she reminds, nod in response as her smiles grow larger, as her palms leave your own, now travelling across your arms, wrists to shoulder

You are a blushing mess right now, her touch too soft for you to handle thinking straight, you could swear your heart rate is on 200. “it feels good…” but you dont mind, if everything you wont mind if it could last forever.

“I'm happy, you can do the same to me” you oblige and follow her movements, time might as well pass like a snail, the moment is serene, pure even. The only indicator that you know time did not stop is that you could feel both of you falling into the mattress, both lying facing each other as your hands still moved around the arms.

Eventually you become bolder as you ask “Can…i hug you?”, Chaehyun face is surprised but quickly returns to her default smile.

“Of course, let me scoot closer, ok?” Chaehyun says, now inching closer toward you, practically you are at a nose length of each other as she now lets her arms wrap around you.

You could almost instantly feel how the stress that built up in your body starts to disappear as by instinct your head finds its rest on her shoulder.

“You’re so exhausted baby, you really need this don't you?” was that a pet name? Eh you are too tired to think, it's probably part of her job and honestly, who cares? so instead just let your arms go behind her back and let yourself melt into the embrace

“Mmm” you lightly nod, you don't even have the energy to talk from how soft you feel right now, Chaehyun’s right hand gently rake your hair while her other hand slowly scratches your back

You slowly raise your head, slowly looking at Chaehyun, her eyes mirorr her mouth in her bright smile while your timid eyes looking directly into hers, a small giggle comes as she asks, “i think you want to stay like this for a little more, don't you?”.

Even though your brain might as well be mush from how soft her entire body is, wrapped around yours and letting you feel her warmth surrounding you, you have enough energy to mumble words of agreement as her hands pull your head back into her neck

“Good, just let yourself enjoy it”

=================================

“So?”

“So what?”

“For the first time, what do you think?” Chaehyun asks, both of you out of the silence room, looking at your watch you see that only 2 hours has passed since you got inside there however it might as well be the entire day by how relaxed you feel.

“It's good, honestly it felt really good, i get what you meant when you said i would like it here,” you answer, still surprised that you actually were just cuddling someone for that long of a time.

“Really? I'm glad that you had fun,” she exclaims, her eyes shining brightly, eventually the both of you are back at the same counter where you met the girl in front of you. “So I will see you next week?”

“Next week?” You ask, a bit confused

“Of course, sessions like those are perks of new club members, and you did say you will join the club in the quiet”

“Yeah…i guess i did” you say awkwardly, scratching the back of your neck while the both of you share a laugh

“So what do you say? Are you joining the club officially?” She asks now, as you remember how up until now you never felt more happy than now, you have your answer in mind.

“Yeah, why not, it will probably be fun” you say as Chaehyun's face brightens up from excitement.

“Great, i am so happy you decided to join” she says, giving you a high five and a small hug, “I will see you next week then” she adds as you wave goodbye, walking out of the club, but not before looking back, seeing the smiling girl returning the waving, the rather chill and relaxed atmosphere as you think to yourself.

“I think I am gonna enjoy it here”

=================================

Posted on June 27th 2024

#kpop fanfic #kpop #fluff #kpop fluff #chaehyun kep1er #chaehyun #chaehyun fluff #chaehyun icons

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almostempty · 2 months ago

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What’s Love Got to Do with It

(oberyn x f!reader) wc: 4.6k | other fics

note: hey y’all it’s me ya gurl, here to defile another prompt with a silly idea <3 Sooo, from the three brain cells that brought you fuckboy!joel and divorced dad rock dilf!joel 🫡i now humbly present ��. Frat bro Oberyn, Aka The Red Viper, aka the Prince of Pong, aka the Slut of Delta Psi (i did steal the frat name from the film Neighbors—in which they do sing a line from Creed in their frat chant, so in some twisted way, they’re kind of all connected right??)

I fear this may have just been funny to me so feel free to skip, but thank you to everyone who tolerates my shenanigans <3.

ANYWAY, The lovely @baronessvonglitter bestowed upon me Oberyn x What’s Love Got to Do with It for fucktober (happy belated bday babe) but naturally, i made it weird. Thanks to @sunshinehaze1 for reminding me that modern AUs exist when I got scared of the GOT universe and to @auterdelabre for reminding me that the answer is always fuckboy. Don’t blame them for anything else.

Summary: You attend a fraternity toga party, and you catch the eye of Delta Psi’s notorious Red Viper. He shows you how he got the nickname and then he shows you something else he’s known for.

tags/warnings: explicit 18+ smut, alcohol/partying, gratuitous flirting, piv, fuckboy behavior aka on to the next one, infidelity, i couldn’t bring myself to write his dialogue in frat bro™ –aka i didn’t fully commit to the bit bc that man just had to be smooth and had to fuck no matter what universe i put him in, apologies if that ruins your immersion in my pwp, per usual: no y/n, f!reader is able bodied otherwise no specifics, unprotected piv as if it’s no biggie because it’s fiction (don’t do that irl), no beta/limited proofreading sorry for all mistakes

“Oh my god, that’s him!” Your best friend shouts into your ear as you walk down the sidewalk. You blend into the sea of toga-clad college kids, sandals slapping against the pavement. Liv leans on you, pointing out the guy she’s talking about. You can hear the music pouring out into the street and people inside yelling and chanting over someone doing a keg stand or something equally as exciting and alcohol-related, you assume.

The guy she pointed out is leaning casually against the banister, letting some ripped blond dude entertain him on the porch. “That’s the guy your roommate was talking about?” you question your friend. Liv agrees with a smile as you walk towards the front steps.

Everyone else on the porch looks like a frat bro wrapped in a wrinkly bedsheet, but for some reason, he seems almost godlike. He’s luminous under the warm lights. As if he knew you were checking him out, he turns his head just as you walk past, and his eyes sweep over you, making your face hot. Something sparks between you before he turns away, taking a swig of his drink.

Liv had given you a rundown on what to expect at your first Delta Psi party. You had argued that you knew what college parties were like. You transferred this quarter as a senior, and you just didn’t have Greek life at your other school or your best friend to convince you to go out. But now, you’re here, dressed up and entering a party that really does feel a little more intense than the ones back at your small-town university.

Liv’s roommate had given you the rundown on the guys she knew in the fraternity, but you didn’t pay much attention to her descriptions. You figured there was no way a Brad, Dylan, Connor, or a Brent would actually be hot. And then, when she started with the ones with nicknames, you completely checked out after Viper and Rooster. It has to defy the laws of nature for a frat bro that goes by Rooster to be able to find your clit—even if he IS hot.

Yet, now you realize you might be eating your words because you get it. You were too quick to judge, whoops. “Which one was that?” you ask in Liv’s ear as you both make your way through the people sloshing drinks and dancing.

“Viper!”

You can’t help the immediate grimace that emerges on your face. “That’s so douchey!” you shout back over the noise before she pulls you down a hall toward that kitchen. She leans in close to your ear, telling you that her roommate swears she got the best head of her life from him. “No fucking way,” you argue.

“Way,” she smirks back. “He’s got a girlfriend now, though. They’re, like, totally in love, it’s all over social media.” She mocks puking at the idea, and you share a laugh.

You explore the party together. The house is huge; one room on the main floor is blasting EDM, and another is blasting top 40 hits. There are a couple of beer pong tables in the backyard and a detached garage filled with stoners on old couches giggling to themselves. You know that Liv is itching to park her ass on one of those sofas and find a girl or guy to whom she can woo with her French inhale and makeout with for the rest of the night.

But, she’s a loyal ass bitch who wouldn’t abandon you. You circle back through the house. You spend a little while dancing together and taking your time to see if there’s anyone else who catches your eye. Nobody really sticks out to you in the first room until you catch his eyes again. You have to do a double-take as you circle your waist and roll your body against Liv.

He’s semi-shrouded in the corner; with the dim lighting and the packed house, it would be easy to miss the two of them altogether. But when the girl clinging to him turns around to grind her ass against him, he locks eyes with you, and you swear that fucker winks at you before a group of girls prance into the room, shouting oh my god, it’s our song! You try to shake it off. You were definitely just seeing things with the lights.

You signal to Liv, and she follows you into the other room. You dance together a bit longer. She offers you a swig from her rhinestone-encrusted flask, but you turn her down, staying sober tonight. You feel euphoric enough with the strobe lights and the thrumming bass from the EDM remixes blasting in the room.

You turn down a few wasted white dudes who try to dance up on the two of you. Too drunk. Not your type. Too handsy. You’re not afraid to punch a man in the throat or the nuts if they don’t get the hint, but they back off when you give them a gentle shove and a shake of your head. The most recent suitor is turning and scoping for another girl to approach when you see him again.

He’s moving towards you, looking right at you, but there’s no girl on his arm–or crotch, now. For some reason, it makes you feel too hot. You’re sweating from the dancing anyway, so you ignore the electric look in his eye that makes your clit twitch and grab Liv’s arm to make a dash for the backyard to get some fresh air.

You debrief with each other and come to an agreement. You tell Liv to do her thing, urging her to head towards the couch with the skater dude wearing the toga made from a dinosaur patterned sheet and the high-top vans. She agrees to text you if she plans to relocate or wants to leave before you finish taking another lap around the party.

You sort of lie to her, claiming someone inside caught your eye. They did, but you aren’t planning to do anything about it. Instead, you part ways and head back through the house, past the pledge posing as a bouncer at the front door, and onto the front porch. The music is still loud, but it’s quieter out front. People still trickle in and out of the party. You stare out at the night sky, searching for the moon. In your own little world, you’re basking in your own peace.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” a rich, velvety voice washes over your shoulder. It should make you jerk away, give you goosebumps, and raise your hackles. But, instead, the interruption stirs liquid heat in your core and makes your nipples hard. Because it’s him.

You turn your head and confirm. He’s so close to you.

“You know every girl here?” you challenge him.

“I know the ladies and gentlemen that pique my curiosity,” his voice is so smooth. He’s a charmer, for sure. He offers you a drink, holding out two plastic cups in one hand. The size of his hand does make you tingly, but his smile falters when you shoot him one of your signature dirty looks.

Before he can ask about the look, you take one of the cups, give him a cloyingly sweet smile, and pour it out over the railing into the grass below. The tail of his brow quirks, and he gives you a sly smile that widens into a grin and a full-chested laugh. “Oops,” you mock.

“You’re a bold woman,” he muses, “I like that.”

He doesn’t back down after you toss out his drink. He doesn’t take it as a rejection. He understands when you explain you don’t take open drinks from strangers at a frat party, but you roll your eyes hard when he gloats about not needing tricks or drugs to find a lover.

He banters with you as he downs the remaining drink. He’s quick, with sharp wit and a devious smile. You can’t keep your eyes off his exposed chest, his arms, his neck, his eyes. It’s still confusing how he can look so regal, whereas everyone else in the party looks a little…goofy? Cliche? He pulls you back to the present, asking for your name before he gives you his.

“They call me ‘the Red Viper,’” he gives you a provocative grin like he knows exactly how hot he looks, even with a bedsheet draped over his shoulder.

You play into his hand, “Is that some kinda of euphemism?” Feeding his ego with a suggestive arch of your brow. Maybe you’re bold, but you don’t think he’s the type to be deterred by a confident woman. In fact, it seems to make him glow even brighter.

His voice lowers, dripping with an enticing challenge, “Are you looking to find out?” he asks.

His jaw quirks, and you’re mesmerized watching him suck at his lower lip. It looks so perfectly plump and kissable, curling into a smirk as his eyes gleam with mischief. “Come,” he beckons for you to follow him deeper into the party.

“I thought you had a girlfriend,” you say stiffly, remembering what Liv had said as you walked in. He looks at you curiously before shaking his head lightly.

“You mean Cora? From earlier? She’s not my girlfriend. We were just dancing.”

“No,” you shake your head, “I heard it’s all over social media. That you’re loved up.”

“Oh, so you’ve heard of me?” he gives you that cocky smile that absolutely shouldn’t work but somehow makes you feel warm like you’re laying on the warm sand on a beach listening to the waves crashing. You don’t say anything else, and he leans in a little closer, “What’s love got to do with it?” he asks huskily. Dangerously.

It makes you shudder with something warm and twisted.

“Now,” he guides you gently but firmly, “Come.” You need him to stop saying it like an order before you do.

You let him walk you through the party. Weaving through the boisterous crowds. They part easily for him, clearing a path like he’s royalty.

“They call me ‘the Red Viper’ because I’m lethal at any game involving a red Solo cup.” He murmurs it into your ear like it’s a sexy secret.

You laugh brightly at that, giving him a gentle shove. “That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard!”

He gives you a coy shrug. “It’s the truth.” He leads you into the backyard, towards the beer pong tables. “I’ll show you,” he says just for you to hear. The string lights illuminate the yard in soft light; however, the mood is anything but romantic, with the drunk cheering college kids taking their drinking games very seriously.

You watch, amused, as one team high-fives each other over their trick shot. At another table, both teams heatedly argue about “house rules.”

“It’s the prince of pong!” one of his fraternity brothers shouts across the lawn. He gives you the most dramatic I told you so glance, and you mouth “lame” back at him. He calls ‘next game,’ and as if he were their lord, one table immediately clears out, forfeiting in a demonstration of fealty.

“Ladies first,” he offers once he’s set up all the cups to his liking. He’s so arrogant about it, and it shouldn’t turn you on, but it absolutely does.

You grin across the table at him. “You’re on.”

He’s merciful at first. You land a few cups, giving you enough confidence to talk shit and tease him. But it rapidly becomes apparent that he’s a man of his word as he easily picks off every cup on your end of the table with precision.

Despite your rapid descent towards a loss, you eat up his charm. His magnetic energy. He makes the rest of the party disappear when he looks at you. It makes your heart tingle and your pussy flutter. He’s a gracious winner, only gloating a little as he reracks the table and offers it up to other party-goers.

“Alright, Viper, you won. You can retain your title.” You admit defeat as he slinks up close to you, ushering you along to the side of the house, only a few steps away but more secluded from the rest of the party.

“And now, will you allow me to claim my prize?” he asks in his smoky, deep voice.

Despite his clear intentions, you feign confusion as he wraps one wide hand around your waist and tilts your chin towards his face with the other. “I didn’t know we were playing for stakes,” you smile brashly. Your skin blazes under his touch and his seductive gaze as his eyes drop to your mouth.

He starts to dip towards you, but you swerve away from him. It’s on the tip of your tongue to ask again if he’s in a relationship. He growls softly, almost a purr, next to your ear. “What’s wrong, my lady?” he murmurs. The intimacy of it is heady, and your surroundings fade.

You want to take whatever he’s offering, no questions, so instead you whisper, “Tell me your real name.”

He sighs softly before giving in and telling you his name.

“Oberyn,” you repeat back, “that’s unique.”

He starts muttering about how he’s an international student, but you’ve got all the info you needed. Now you don’t have to add a guy named Viper to your mental list of hookups.

“I like it,” you cut him off before slotting your mouth against his and making up for ducking out of his last attempt at a kiss with your eagerness. He wraps his arm around you, and you’re transported. One large hand presses against your lower back, urging your hips toward his, and the other cradles your jaw, giving you a sense of stability as he matches your ferocity.

You briefly wonder if you’d have melted if he wasn’t holding you so tightly before your thoughts are consumed by the sensation of his lips against yours and his tongue running along yours. It’s not a kiss you would’ve expected from a frat guy. It’s romantic and passionate, and you feel your body rolling against his, caught up in the sensation and intensity.

You keep going, letting yourself enjoy the moment, eating up the flavor of him, the scent of him, and the throbbing intensifying between your legs. You slip one of your hands along the back of his neck into his soft hair, and he groans into your mouth. It makes your knees weak.

You chase his mouth as he pulls back and looks into your heavy-lidded eyes. Sharing the hot air between you, it feels like a current is looping through your bodies, buzzing with need.

“Let’s go upstairs,” he urges in a gravelly whisper. You can feel him hardening against you. His hand on your back is firm, keeping you flush, pelvis to pelvis, making you nearly dizzy. However, his hand on your jaw is gentle, brushing his thumb along your cheek sweetly. You still can’t help goading just a little.

“What for?” you ask playfully.

“To fuck.”

It makes your cheeks hot. Maybe there should be red flags popping up in your mind, but you don’t care. He likes a bold woman, and you like a direct man.

“Unless you’d rather do it in the grass here,” he tilts his head toward the ground. You act like you’re considering the option seriously, making him laugh before he releases you from his arms. “Don’t tease,” he says with a severe look, “It wouldn’t bother me.”

Me either, you consider before deciding not to say that part aloud. You tell him to take you to a real bed, and he does. Swiftly guiding you into the house and up the stairs, past the pledge guarding the rooms, and into his bedroom. He spins around, pinning you against the door for another searing kiss. It’s more urgent this time. He’s quickly moving to your neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your tender skin as you both greedily run your hands along each other’s bodies.

Before you can get your hands under his toga, he’s detaching from you and sinking to his knees. He moves efficiently, bunching up your toga and asking you to hold it. Then he’s hovering his hot mouth over your mound before kissing you over your lacey panties.

“Mmm,” he hums into you and traces the crease of your thighs with one hand, following the line until he’s softly running his fingers along the edge of your panties, the tips of his fingers barely dipping beneath the hem as he moves towards your core. You watch, staring down with your mouth parted as he holds your gaze.

He teases you, running his fingertips along your seam over the soaked fabric, tapping and teasing at your swollen clit through the fabric as he watches your needy expression morph into frustration. You shift, spreading your legs wider, but he stops you with a large hand on each thigh.

“Hold still,” he orders, and you feel compelled to listen. He pulls your underwear down and off of you, then hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, spreading your cunt open. “That’s better.”

You can’t tell if he’s talking to himself or to you. You don’t have a chance to ask before he’s burying his face into your soft, wet pussy. Your breath hitches at the sensation and one of your hands flies out to grab at the door frame to steady you, while the other one digs into Oberyn’s hair.

He’s unbothered by your dramatics. Oberyn moves with enthusiasm, drawing his tongue along your slit and pressing into your sex with his jaw. His facial hair tickles at your tender skin deliciously and his nose grazes over your clit as if his face were molded to maximize your pleasure. He changes his strategy, mouthing at your clit and sweeping his tongue over it like he’s making out with it, with the same passion that he kissed you with outside and a moment ago.

You can feel it starting to build. Your hip flexors straining and thighs starting to tremble as your breathing gets quicker and more shallow. Closer and closer and closer. He’s perceptive and diligent. Repeating the same tricks that make you moan and dig your fingers into his hair.

You’re stuck on the precipice, so close but not quite there. Your eyes roam around the dimly lit room, the bed, the bookshelf, the tapestry pinned to the wall, the collection of cologne bottles lined up on the desk, the mirror on top of the desk–pointing right at the bed.

It starts to frustrate you. Not the decor choices, but the tension and the building pressure. You squirm slightly, hoping the smallest adjustment will somehow bring everything into a sharper focus. You let your eyes close, letting the roar of the party downstairs fade, focusing on the pressure and warmth of Oberyn’s mouth.

More, more, more.

It’s all you can think as Oberyn stays dedicated to getting you off on his tongue. He sucks firmly at your clit before releasing you with a slick sound. He hovers, mouth fanning warm air over your core looking up at you. His eyes are lit with hunger.

“More?” he asks in his deep, rich voice.

You can’t tell if you were chanting out loud or if he’s somehow reading your mind. “Please,” you respond with a needy edge, “more.” You catch the sparkle in his eye and the flash of a grin. He works you up again, towards the brink, relishing in your responses as you whine with need as he resumes holding you in a purgatory of pleasure.

Mercifully, he does give you more. Oberyn grips your thigh with one hand, steadying you, while he swipes two fingers along the length of your pussy once, twice, coating them in your arousal before plunging them inside of you. The increased pressure and friction from his fingers pumping into you causes you to moan. It’s a lower register than your breathy panting from earlier, layered with satisfaction as you can feel the anticipation starting to crest.

“Don’t stop,” you beg, “I’m so close.”

He doesn’t stop, groaning at your words, rumbling against you. That snaps the tension and you cry out his name and a string of curses as your orgasm hits. He doesn’t slow down when your cunt contracts around his fingers and he doesn’t lose focus when you shake and writhe against mouth. Not until you’re pulling him off of you, oversensitive and wrung out.

Oberyn stands, wiping at his chin before pulling you in close for another breathtaking kiss. He walks you back toward the bed and you fall into it, pulling him with you. You tangle together, frantically, you want him inside of you now. He laughs softly against your hot neck, sensing your frustration.

“Shh,” he murmurs as you huff with defeat. He moves deftly, braced over you with one arm, and freeing his cock with the other. Your hands stroke up and down his shoulders and back, and you hook one leg around his hip, encouraging him. “You want me to fuck you now?” he asks and you whisper a yes that turns into a gasp as he runs his tip through your soaked center. “And how do you want it?”

“Hard.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, sinking into you deeper and deeper, and pulling back, all the way out, then all the way in. “Fuck,” he says to himself as he sets a quick pace, slaming his hips into yours making the bedframe creak with every thrust. If the noise from the party didn’t drown everything else out, you might be embarrassed to have strangers over hear, but you would be surprised if anyone could hear a thing. And, even if you were louder than the party, you could care less about being caught as Oberyn fucks you into the mattress.

“Harder,” you goad him, hoping for more. To your horror he pulls out of you completely, but you swiftly find yourself flipped onto your stomach as he lifts your hips and enters you from behind. You press back, meeting his thrusts, bouncing off of his hips until he presses his palm between your shoulder blades. He forces your chest into the mattress, holding you still so he can fuck you like he means it, with enough force that all you can do brace yourself and ball your fists, twisting the bedding between your fingers.

With your cheek against the bed you can watch your reflection in the mirror. It’s hot, even with your togas draped and bunched up, you look good together. It makes you grin. He catches you looking and turns, meeting your eyes in the mirror before watching your bodies. He grips your hips firmly and you can barely keep your eyes open to watch as he continues.

He overwhelms you with his stamina, keeping up a pace that has your mind feeling blissfully fuzzy. He says something else before folding over you and slipping his hand around towards your clit, determined to feel you come around his cock. You’re so close already, it’s only a moment, a few more thrusts, before shuddering beneath him. He tries to fuck you through it, but you clench and constrict around him so tightly that he pulls out while you’re still moaning.

You can hear the slick wet sounds as he strokes himself, cursing under his breath again, before you feel the warmth as he comes across the swell of your ass and your fluttering cunt. You sink, dropping your hips and relaxing onto the bed while he catches his breath. Oberyn squeezes at your thighs, offering praise you don’t quite hear, then he’s slipping off the bed. He cleans you up with a towel, but you remain still for a little longer, enjoying the satisfaction and the sweet ache from the intensity.

“Take your time,” he tells you, leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder. It’s gentle. You murmur a thanks at him before breaking into an airy giggle. It makes your ribcage shake, bouncing slightly on the mattress, realizing that Liv is going to die when you tell her you can confirm her roommates story. Oberyn doesn’t question your reaction.

He pauses to readjust his toga and his hair in the mirror. Once seemingly satisfied, he turns back towards you, watching you sit up. “I’ll see you out there,” he says with a smile before he slips out of the room.

You linger for just a little. Allowing yourself the privacy to revel in the sweet satisfaction of the post-sex chemicals flowing through your body. You let yourself grin while you check your phone to see where Liv is at.

You take another minute, using the mirror to fix your own appearance, aiming for a slightly less obvious version of I just got railed, before meeting your own eyes. For a sobering second you remember you didn’t get a real answer about if he has a girlfriend. He sure as fuck doesn’t act like it, you decide. You shake off the thought.

He might be a frat bro, he might be a piece of shit, all you know for sure is that he is hot, a good kisser, and he knew how to make you come. Three things you didn’t think you’d find in one guy under this roof. You give yourself a final onceover before heading out of the room and down the stairs.

You don’t see Oberyn in the first few rooms you pass. You keep looking; he couldn’t have gone far. You’re barely finished that thought when you spot him in the kitchen. The sight makes you stumble, shooting a hand out to the wall to catch your balance.

He’s leaning casually, with his hip against the counter, as a starry-eyed girl looks up at him, giggling flirtatiously, as she lays a hand along his bicep.

It’s in slow motion. The way he looks at her hand, the way his eyes trail along her arm, over the curve of her breasts, and down her legs before flitting back to her face with that same sinful smirk you just fell for.

Your shoulders drop. It’s not like you were planning your wedding or that you even thought a date was on the table—but you didn’t think he’d be on to the next girl before you made it down the stairs.

You start to recenter yourself, reaching to check your phone again before you look for Liv.

He sees you before you can mind your business and plan your next move. Catching your eye through the doorway. Before you can formulate a reaction, you’re stuck, held in his gaze. He winks at you again, only this time there’s no question if you were making it up. He winked at you and despite everything, it makes your whole body tingle.

“I saw that!” Liv shouts into your ear, wrapping an arm around you. “You have to tell me what the fuck that was about. But first can we please get pancakes or cheese fries?”

You don’t bother turning back for a second glance as you follow Liv toward the front door.

You must understand though the touch of your hand

Makes my pulse react

That it's only the thrill of boy meeting girl

Opposites attract

It's physical

Only logical

You must try to ignore that it means more than that

Oh, oh, oh

What's love got to do, got to do with it?

…..

tags for babes, but no presh:

@lovely-vamp-princess

@gothcsz

@auteurdelabre

@adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange

@itwasntimethatdidit40

@ivoryandflame

@magneticecstasy

#fucktober #birthday baroness #oberyn x f!reader #oberyn martell x f!reader #oberyn martell smut #posting at 3 in the morning my time as per usual

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alchemistc · 6 months ago

Text

Seeing all the saltommy headcanons floating around here and I'm obsessed with all of them but consider:

Unrequited saltommy but Sal's the one with feelings. Tommy considers him a good friend and a close confidant and Sal's the only one who Knows about Tommy, so they have their own shorthand and all their in-jokes and Sal plays up the bro thing because he realized five years in that he sort of maybe definitely wants Tommy to bone him and then press a kiss to his forehead and he needs Tommy to stick around for that so Gerrard can never know

Which. Tommy's never thought about it. Given the opportunity, maybe he would have. But Sal never says a word. Sal represses the feeling and dates around and through it all he's in love with his work buddy. They hang out when they're off shift and he listens to Tommy talk about the guys he's seeing casually and how they hate the job, hate that he's in the closet, hate that every time they're out in public he's tense and staring around the room like someone is about to pop out and call him every name in the book. He listens, and he knocks his knee against Tommy's, and they turn on the fights so Tommy has a distraction. And Sal loves him.

And it doesn't matter.

And then Gerrard is out, and they're finally in a place where Sal thinks - maybe. Maybe I could tell him. Maybe we could be something.

And Tommy comes over one night a few months into their revolving door of Captains and he's giddy, he can't stop smiling, he's nursing his beer and picking at the label and

He's met someone. They've been seeing each other and Tommy didn't want to say anything because it felt different than usual. Felt real. This guy understands the secrecy, he understands why Tommy has concerns about being out. He's sweet, and kind, and a bit of a freak in bed, sorry, you don't want to hear about that, and Sal absolutely doesn't but not for the reason Tommy thinks. It's serious. And Tommy had realized he wanted his best friend to know.

So. Sal tells him to bring the guy around, and he can never find a reason not to like him, because he's great. He's great for Tommy, he's fun to hang out with, he doesn't begrudge Tommy keeping the private part of their lives private. He can turn the lovey-dovey look off in a moment, play at being buddies when they're out and about and never seems upset about it. And in privacy, he's pressing a hand to the small of Tommy's back and pressing his lips to the bolt of Tommy's jaw and he always, always drinks Tommy's shitty beer even though Sal can tell he'd prefer a simple Bud Light. He makes Tommy happy.

So Sal lashes out at work instead. He presses, and he pushes, and he calls out captains left and right and does stupid shit for the hell of it. And eventually it bites him in the ass.

Sal loses his house, but for a while there he doesn't lose Tommy. He's there when the relationship with the guy implodes, and there's just never a good opportunity to bring up how he feels. So he doesn't.

They drift. Without the impetus of working together they inevitably just don't spend as much time together.

Sal meets a woman. He likes her. Her laugh is ridiculous. She smiles with her whole face. She's delicate and soft and when she tucks her face under his chin and curls her arms around him she can barely wrap her fingers together behind his back.

He introduces her to Tommy six months in and Tommy is happy for him, Tommy congratulates him, Tommy slaps a big hand to his shoulder and Sal soaks in the warmth and puts it away.

He marries the girl and Tommy orbits his life but they're never as close again. He has a couple kids, and they love uncle Tommy, and he watches Tommy move stations and stop hiding himself and he meets a few of the guys Tommy dates and they never feel right. They're never enough. They don't treat him the way Sal thinks he should be treated. He welcomes them into his home and hates the way they roll their eyes at Uncle Tommy stuffing his big long legs under the kids table so he can paint a butterfly with his daughter, the way they watch him with Sal's son balanced on his shoulders. He hates the way they get quiet when he and Sal are comparing scars and stories about the job. He hates the way they just don't love him enough.

They drift, and swing back together for random nights out or the kids birthdays, see each other less and less as the years pass.

And then he hears in passing that Tommy's reconnected with some of the 118, that he's spending time with all of them again, and he shoots him a text to catch up because you flew into a hurricane to rescue the guy who fired me but mostly he's just curious to know how he managed not to get fired.

Tommy invites him out for drinks. They settle in a corner booth and shoot the shit and Tommy tells him about how Hen is doing, how Howie is doing, about his new buddy Eddie and all the drama surrounding the 118. He keeps eyeing his phone, and Sal doesn't think much of it until Tommy's smile lines start to dimple and he tips his head up and grins, wide and happy as he waves at the guy who'd just stepped in.

Sal's pretty sure he recognizes him. One of the 118, maybe even the guy who'd filled the spot Sal had left open there. His grin is wide and his eyes are bright and Tommy shifts out of the booth to hug him and they linger in it, Tommy's face pressed into his neck and the guys hands drifting low across Tommy's waist, and when Tommy turns to introduce him as Buck the guys face scrunches up like that's a strange way to introduce him but he shakes Sal's hand and he slips right into the booth and he's rattling off a million questions like he's heard a hundred and two stories he wants Sal to confirm.

And Sal - he doesn't remember ever enjoying time with Tommy's boyfriends, doesn't remember seeing Tommy's gaze so focused and intent, so heavy. But this Buck guy keeps a hand on Tommy's knee, or his neck, not in a possessive way really, just like he can't quite stop reminding himself that Tommy is there with him, and Tommy is playing it cool but he's soaking it up, rolling his eyes at Buck's praise but ducking his head when Buck's not looking, darting gazes through his eyelashes and desperately fighting grins and giving the same energy back and no one, no one has ever treated Tommy so delicately, so carefully, no one has ever shot Tommy bedroom eyes with quite so much unadulterated adoration.

Buck goes to buy another round and Tommy's eyes flit to Sal's.

"He's a lot," Sal says, because he's not quite sure how to encapsulate "I know you guys said this was still fairly new but I'm already planning out the bachelor party where you get drunk and soppy and tell me you wish he was here with you."

"I should have mentioned he might come," Tommy tells him, and Sal narrows in on that.

"Why didn't you?"

Tommy shifts. His shoulders curl in. He chews on the inside of his cheek. "I figured some things out, after I started at Harbor. Took a long look at my life up to that point. The way you always hated every guy I introduced you to percolated long enough for me to understand it."

It's Sal's turn to feel like a jackass. "You thought I'd hate him too."

"I hoped you wouldn't."

Sal sighs. Catches sight of Buck tilting sideways at the bartop so he can send an eager grin in Tommy's direction. If he had a tail he'd be wagging it, Sal thinks, and then he thinks a little harder. About the easy way Tommy grins back, about the way he eyes Buck up and down, leering a little for his audience of one, and the way Buck bites his lip and his gaze goes dark and heady and the way he has to fucking blink himself out of it when the bartender hands him their drinks.

Sal knocks his knuckles on the table. "He fucks it up I'm reserving the right to show up unannounced at his job to make him fix it," Sal tells him, and Tommy's gaze is a little misty when it meets Sal's.

Buck slides in next to Tommy and passes out drinks and when he leans back and starts on a tirade about the travesty of shot pours he'd just witnessed, his hand lands a lot higher up Tommy's leg than it has all night. Tommy takes a heavy pull off his beer and grins at Buck like he's never been more enchanted by another living soul.

Sal's incensed when Tommy refuses to have a bachelor party unless both grooms are involved.

#bucktommy #saltommy #listen i'm here for every iteration of saltommy but UNREQUITED just has so much potential for my feelings to get hurt #which is absolutely what im trying to do to myself when i hc an old love

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weebsinstash · 8 months ago

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Really like the idea of a yandere Vox who is so ride or die for his overconsumerist capitalist Musk-esque lifestyle UNTIL he sees it negatively affecting his darling and does a complete 180

like take that poly red string soulmate Vox x Reader x Alastor concept and, you've got Alastor KINDA warming up to technology and willing to watch TV and do other things with you but he's still not a fan of you being on your phone constantly and some of the video games and movies you consume. He's on the couch reading a paper and (affectionately) rolling his eyes as you and Vox take turns headshotting each other in a video game and hollering "hell yeah, suck my fucking dick!!"

Meanwhile Vox is just 200% chronically online and loving it until one day he asks you why you wear baggy clothes all the time and you're ever so casually replying "because my body is fucking icky, duh" and Vox has absolutely no idea what you're talking about until you break down on a tangent about it

I was watching a clip the other day where someone was pointing out that Marilyn Monroe was considered the 50s icon of beauty and there are plenty of photos with her with thick thighs or a visible belly pooch and, imagine Vox sitting there, the disbelieving 'are you joking?' smile falling off of his face as you just, go OFF, "why would I wear anything other than sweatpants? I have fucking CELLULITE VOX, I'll NEVER have leggings legs no matter how thin I am, and look at my hip dips, they're so fucking GROSS, and my butt isn't shaped right, I have banana rolls, and, do I have siren eyes or doe eyes?! Am I bunny cute or am I frog cute?! And look at how bad my facial balancing is! Ugh, where's my gua sha?! I'm so tired of being UGLY!!"

Later that week Alastor is looking up from his paper to see Vox just, slowly entering the room, sloooooowly shutting the door behind him, looking to his old friend, "so hey! Funny idea, stop me if you've heard this one before but, I was thinking we could uh, maybe take their phone away annnnnnnnnnd... not give it back?" and here's Alastor, "oh, funny story! So earlier today they asked me if I 'wouldn't like them anymore' if they got COSMETIC SURGERY, yeah, ON THEIR FACE BELIEVE IT OR NOT, so, naturally, I'm already one step ahead of you :)" as he just casually gestures to the smashed wifi router in the garbage can in the corner of the room

You just get home from work one day and Vox has his CRT head back on and you're told 'if you want to look something up online, you can use the desktop in the computer room, and only 3 hours of screen time' and it all but blasts you 15 years into the past 💀 no more nights where you're gaming for 5+ hours straight and ruining your sleep. No more skipping meals because you're hyperfocused and binge-watching an anime while also playing an idle game on your phone. No more Alastor and Vox finding out you're just smoking bowls for hours literally nonstop because you need some sort of extra stimulation while you doomscroll and watch 3 hour long roast reviews for shows you've never watched

Alastor catches you swiping through an app and you get a divisive video thrown in your face from some alpha dude bro podcast, "yeah, a real man knows how to protect his lady! She should be at home cooking and keeping the house clean, not running around like a tramp and doing dumb chick stuff! All women need to focus on is marriage and being good wives, you know, a TRADITIONAL relationship!" and Alastor is just, swiping that shit out of your hand, "he DOES have a bit of a point, repulsive as he is! I suppose I'll have to start looking at potential dwellings that can fit you, me, and, I SUPPOSE Vox too 🙄" and little do you know he's already got a cute little home in the 'burbs set up already. He's just... you know! Waiting for the right moment to let you and the annoying TV bastard know that you'll be moving! Maybe he'll just... wait until the day of! Nothing beats a fun surprise, right? ^^ he doesn't want either of you... trying to run away or anything after all haha!

#i actually have had an almost completelt finished vox fic w this conccept sitting in my drafts since like. February #yandere stuff #yandere hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hh #sinprompts

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30somethingautisticteacher · 7 months ago

Text

Vows

Thomas Michael Kinard, you are the man of my dreams... No, Buck thought, too cheesy, and he scribbled that out. "Tommy, you are the coolest person I've ever met..." Nope, too casual, Buck decided, scratching that line out too. "Tommy, you complete me..." No, that wasn't quite right either. Buck's mind wandered, "Tommy, your body rocks my world, and I can't wait to get you into bed tonight." He grinned at the thought, but quickly dismissed it. True, but definitely not appropriate for his vows.

Buck sighed, frustration mounting. Why was this so difficult? He knew, without a doubt, how much he loved Tommy, so why couldn't he put those feelings into words on paper?

Buck and Tommy had decided that they wanted to write their own vows, because really, there was nothing traditional about them as a couple. Buck tapped his pen against the dining table, contemplating his next words. "Tommy, when I met you, I thought I was straight, but then you kissed me and my entire world shifted." Not a bad start, Buck decided, nodding his head in approval.

As he leaned back in his chair, his mind wandered to Tommy. Was he also struggling to find the right words to express their love? Buck couldn't help but smile at the thought of Tommy, perhaps pacing back and forth in his living room, running his hands through his hair as he searched for the perfect way to express his feelings.

****

"Maddie, why is this so difficult? I know what I want to say, but I just can't get it from my brain to the paper!" Tommy groaned, frustration evident in his voice.

Maddie smiled reassuringly, "Well, I'm happy to help. What do you have so far?"

Tommy hesitated for a moment before sliding the notebook over to her. Maddie began reading aloud, "Evan, I have never met someone as unbelievably sexy as you. I am constantly thinking of what I want to do to you and fantasizing about that thing you do with your tongue..."

Tommy made a choking noise and quickly ripped the notebook from Maddie's hands, his face turning a deep shade of red. "Those ones are private," he mumbled, embarrassment radiating off him.

"Well, I would hope so!" Maddie exclaimed, her eyes widening. "Wine... I need wine. I have to forget that ever happened. He's my brother, Tommy!" Maddie exclaimed, shaking her head vigorously as if trying to physically dislodge the memory. Tommy had never felt more humiliated in his life, wishing the ground would just swallow him whole.

Sensing his discomfort, Maddie suggested, "Let's pause the vows for a minute." She grabbed a bottle of red wine and poured a generous glass for each of them. "How's the guest list coming along? RSVPs were supposed to be returned by Thursday, right?"

Tommy nodded, grateful for the change of subject. "We got the last one we had been waiting on yesterday, Evan's friend TK and his husband Carlos. So now we have a firm final number, and we can complete the seating chart."

Maddie's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Can you believe you're getting married next week?" she squealed, her earlier discomfort forgotten.

Tommy really couldn't believe it. Before Evan, he didn't think marriage was even a possibility for him and had resigned himself to being whatever the male version of a spinster was. But here he was, just days away from marrying the love of his life.

**** Buck stared at the crumpled pieces of paper scattered across the dining table, feeling utterly defeated. He needed help, but somehow, he was the only member of the fire family without a shift today. Pulling out his phone, he opened up the 118 group text. It was the next best thing, Buck thought.

He quickly typed out a message: "SOS! I need help with my vows."

Chim was the first to respond, "Not sure how much help I'll be, bro. I got married in a hospital."

Eddie chimed in, "I'm not exactly the poster child for healthy relationships."

"That's the understatement of the century," Buck muttered under his breath.

Feeling frustrated, Buck sent another message, "Seriously? No one is willing to help? Everything I've come up with is literal garbage."

Hen's reply came through, "I've got you, Buckaroo. Happy to help."

Bobby's message followed shortly after, "You know I'd love to help you, kid. Why don't you head down to the station for family dinner, and we can brainstorm."

Buck heaved a sigh of relief, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. He grabbed his jacket (well, really Tommy's jacket) and headed out the door, eager to get some much-needed assistance from his chosen family.

****

Maddie sipped her wine, observing Tommy as he animatedly discussed the wedding details. She had let him procrastinate long enough, allowing him to steer the conversation away from the vows. They had covered everything from the guest list to the centerpieces (a beautiful combination of dahlias and calla lilies), the attire (tailored suits, navy for Tommy and maroon for Evan), the menu (a delectable array of Italian dishes), and the cake (a towering three-layer masterpiece with smooth buttercream and tangy raspberry filling).

Maddie knew it was time for Tommy to focus on his vows. She set her wine glass down and turned to him. "Tommy, let's get back to your vows. I want you to close your eyes and think about specific moments with Evan. Focus on how you felt in those moments – the warmth, the laughter, the comfort. Those are the feelings you want to capture."

Tommy closed his eyes, letting memories flood his mind. Evan's laughter, his gentle touch, the quiet moments they shared.

"Now," Maddie said softly, "open your eyes and write. Don't worry about making it perfect. Just let the words flow from your heart."

Tommy opened his eyes, picked up his pen, and began to write. The words poured out, filling the page with heartfelt emotions. Maddie watched, smiling proudly as Tommy found his voice.

****

Buck sat at the firehouse table, his head in his hands as he struggled with the task of writing his vows. The weight of the task seemed to bear down on him, and he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. Well, you could always go traditional," Eddie suggested with a shrug.

Buck shot him a look, making it clear that wasn't an option. "What do I saaay, Cap?" he whined, turning to Bobby.

Bobby looked at Buck with a fatherly expression. "I think the problem, Buck, is that you're trying to find the perfect words, and there's no such thing. Do you know how much Tommy loves you?"

Buck nodded.

"And does Tommy know how much you love him?" Bobby asked.

Another nod.

"Then that's enough," Bobby said firmly. "Tommy knows your heart, Buck. Regardless of what you say, you show him how much you love him every day."

As Bobby's words sank in, Buck felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He sat up straighter, his mind clearer and his purpose focused. The love he shared with Tommy was the foundation, and the vows were simply a way to express that love.

With renewed determination, Buck grabbed a pen and paper, ready to pour his heart out in a way that truly reflected his feelings for Tommy.

****

The remaining days before the wedding passed in a blur, and soon the big day arrived. As the music started, Jee-Yun walked down the aisle where Bobby and Tommy were standing. She spread her petals before running over and jumping into her daddy's lap.

Maddie grasped Buck's hand, feeling it was clammy and noticing he was shaking a bit. "Ready to do this?" she asked.

Buck nodded, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

"Then let's go see your man," Maddie said with a warm smile.

Buck and Maddie started down the aisle, and Buck's breath hitched in his chest. There, waiting for him, was the most beautiful man in the entire world. Tommy was staring back at him, his face adorned with that special, crinkly-eyed smile reserved just for Buck – the "Evan smile."

Buck had to stop himself from running to Tommy. He could not wait to become his husband. Finally, he reached the end of the aisle, and Maddie gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Buck stood next to Tommy and grasped his hands, his heart swelling with love and anticipation. Tommy leaned in and whispered, "Hey, gorgeous," before giving Buck a little wink. The gesture, so intimate and playful, made Buck's knees weak. He nearly passed out from the overwhelming happiness he was feeling in this moment, standing beside the man he loved.

Bobby looked at the two men with a proud smile and began the ceremony. It felt like everything was happening too quickly, and in a blink, it was time for the vows. It had been decided that Buck would read his first, so he began:

"Tommy, I spent so much of my life desperately searching for something that I couldn't put a name to. I was lost, aimlessly wandering through life, and then you kissed me, and everything came into focus. You helped me to see a whole other side of myself and to accept myself for everything that I am. From the moment we started dating, I knew that there was something different about our relationship. Something strong. And then I went and screwed it up by talking about hot chicks on our first date."

The guests laughed politely at Buck's confession.

"But you never made me feel bad. You wanted to let me do things on my own timeline, and you were open to giving me a second chance. And after that coffee date, I swore to myself that I was going to do everything in my power to keep you."

Buck paused for a moment, his eyes locked on Tommy's, before continuing.

"Tommy, you opened my eyes to a whole new world. You have made me feel safe, protected, and like I matter. Your love is my lifeline, and I vow to spend the rest of my life working to be the man that you deserve."

As Buck finished his vows, Tommy, deeply moved by his words, responded softly, "Oh baby, you already are." His voice was barely louder than a whisper, but it carried the weight of his love and admiration for the man standing before him.

Bobby smiled and indicated with a small nod that it was Tommy's turn. Tommy took a deep breath, his eyes glistening as he began his vows.

"Evan Matthew Buckley, you are sunshine personified. For so long, I lived my life with a dark cloud above me. I was scared to share my heart with anyone. I spent so many years in the closet, afraid to admit who I was. And even after I had accepted myself, I still walked around with a chip on my shoulder, mad at the world."

Tommy paused, reaching out to take Buck's hands in his own, his touch gentle and reassuring.

"You changed all that, Evan. You softened my heart and allowed me to be vulnerable. Your love melted my icy heart, and you brought warmth and light into my life in a way I never thought possible."

Tommy's voice wavered slightly, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He took a steadying breath, his eyes never leaving Buck's.

"Ev, your love makes me a better person, and I vow to spend every day of my life protecting you from the harshness of the world and never allowing anyone to extinguish your beautiful sparkle."

As Tommy finished his vows, a single tear rolled down his cheek. Buck, equally moved, reached out to gently wipe it away, his own eyes shining with love.

"I believe you have rings to exchange," Bobby said, and they both nodded, never taking their eyes off one another.

"Do you, Evan Matthew Buckley, take Thomas Michael Kinard to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do," Buck replied, sliding the ring onto Tommy's finger, his hand trembling slightly with emotion.

"And do you, Thomas Michael Kinard, take Evan Matthew Buckley to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I absolutely do," Tommy said as he slipped the ring on Evan's finger, his smile so big it looked like it might actually be painful.

Bobby beamed at the newlyweds, his voice filled with joy as he proclaimed, "Then by the powers vested in me, I am delighted to pronounce you husband and husband. Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you Thomas and Evan Kinard!"

#bucktommy #tevan #kinley #evan buckley #tommy kinard #firepilot #tevan wedding

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reverieparacosm · 5 months ago

Note

Bro, I've never made any requests/asks before, but my Bondrewd brain rot has me in a chokehold, so here I am. I'm honestly so shocked at how little attention he has. You're like the only person who writes anything about him.

My request would be headcannons with a gender neutral reader who is also a scientist. The reader is like a major major workaholic who literally has no social life, and they end up having to work with (or for) Bondrewd for whatever reason. The two have completely differing hypotheses on the thing they're working on, as well as conflicting personalities due to readers' complete lack of willingness to work with someone else. The two would be kinda like work enemies to tolerating each other to friends/lovers

Thanks for considering to do this, have a good day/night :)

Headcanons: Bondrewd (Made in Abyss) x GN!Reader

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, no detailed violence

Note: It's really a shame that Bondrewd doesn't get more attention, right? He's such a fascinating character. That's why I decided to write about him, and I'm so glad you requested this! I hope you enjoy the headcanons. I'm happy to have the chance to explore his character again. ♡

You are a young scientist who has devoted your entire life to your research on the Abyss. Due to your extreme focus on work, you have no social skills or relationships outside of your studies

Bondrewd hears of your promising theories on understanding the nature of the Curse and invites you to join his research team at the 6th layer. You begrudgingly accept, wanting access to his vast resources

Upon meeting Bondrewd, you are immediately put off by his bizarre experiments and his casual brutality. However, you admire his intellect and the impressive results he's achieved

Where you see potential harm, Bondrewd sees opportunity

The two of you clash constantly in meetings as you question Bondrewd's unethical methods and hypotheses. He finds your rigid views on ethics naïve and annoying. Your coworkers are exasperated by your arguments

He starts testing your boundaries to get a rise out of you, partly to move things along and partly because he finds your reactions amusing

Early collaboration is disastrous as you and Bondrewd talk over each other, both convinced your methods are superior. You regularly storm away from meetings in frustration

He sees you as too emotional and stuck in conventional thinking. You see him as a madman who will stop at nothing, even sacrificing lives, for answers

Over time, you start to understand Bondrewd's perspectives better. While still disgusted by his actions, you realize he shares your passion and drive for discovery, even if he takes it to darker places

"Do not look at me with such disdain, my dear. Our methods may differ but our goals are the same - to pierce the veil of this enigma before us."

You are completely devoted to your research to the point where you often forget to sleep or eat. Bondrewd finds your single-minded focus amusing at first but it starts to frustrate him how you never take breaks

Bondrewd is intrigued by your fiery defiance of him. No one ever challenges him, and he sees potential in you as a researcher if you can think more creatively

The two of you are assigned to a dangerous expedition together deep in the 6th layer. Trapped in a cave-in, you have no choice but to cooperate with Bondrewd's leadership to survive

Working side by side in a life or death situation, you gain a grudging respect for each other's talents and start to see parts of yourselves in the other - two people willing to push all boundaries for knowledge

Back at the camp, you feel confused by the unfamiliar feelings welling up inside you for Bondrewd. This dangerous, cruel man should not be eliciting anything positive in you

"Do you feel it too, this connection between us? I think the Abyss works in mysterious ways, bringing souls like ours together in its depths."

One night, as you are working late in your lab, a sudden chill runs down your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you can feel the presence of another in the room. Turning slowly, you find yourself face to face with the imposing figure of Bondrewd

"Forgive my intrusion, my dear," he says in a low, velvet tone. "I couldn't help but be drawn to your fascinating work." He takes a step closer, and you instinctively take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest

Bondrewd raises a hand, his fingers gently tracing the outline of your face. "You fascinate me, you know," he murmurs. "In the same way the Abyss does. I want to... study you more closely."

In that moment, you realize you've fallen for this monster of a man completely. Frightened but exhilarated, you surrender fully to your twisted love for Bondrewd and whatever the future may hold

In secret, a heated physical affair begins between you and the Lord of Dawn. You tell yourself it's just relief from stress, but your heart is becoming tangled

"Your mind is a thing of beauty, always questioning, analyzing, seeking the answers just out of reach. I find I cherish our debates almost as much as our other... encounters."

On expeditions, you and Bondrewd move seamlessly as a team, anticipating each other's needs and pushing your limits ever further. His praise and growing care for you is intoxicating

However, doubt haunts you - can you truly accept this man and all he's done? Your co-workers would be horrified. And what future is there when he views people as disposable?

"My methods may seem cruel, but it is all in aid of lifting the veil on this place. One day you may understand, as I strive to make you understand me."

#bondrewd headcanons #bondrewd x reader #hear me out #made in abyss fanfiction #made in abyss bondrewd #made in abyss #bondrewd

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morganbritton132 · 2 years ago

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I'm loving the whole Tommy thing going on in the Eddie Munson TikTok Saga right now, it's so funny! In the hashtags of first post of it where Robin said she can finally talk about it, it would be interesting to learn when Steve told her and how that came in to the conversation. (I love this series so much it brings me a lot of joy)

I think that the funniest way for Robin to find out is if Steve just casually drops it in conversation like it’s common knowledge.

They’re in his car – Robin is behind the wheel and Steve is white-knuckling the arm rests while she drives around an empty parking lot. The conversation flips between ‘oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, which petal is the break again?’ and ‘I’m just saying, Vickie’s sister is a babe and she was definitely flirting with you. Maybe you should ask her out.’

Steve’s just like, ‘hey, hey, hey, the pavement ends there, are you trying to drive into a ditch?!’ and ‘Vickie’s sister plays the oboe, Robin.’

“So?”

“So, Oboe players are bad kissers. Fact.”

“That’s just a proven fact? A fact that you know personally, huh? If Steve Harrington was making out with the woodwinds than I would have heard about it. Who do you even know that plays the oboe, Steve?”

“Tommy played the oboe.”

Robin slams on the breaks, “What?”

“Katie MacIntosh – she was a junior when I was a freshie – she played the oboe. Bad kisser,” He listed off. “This one girl from Bedford at an away game. Try parking now.”

“No, what? Wait. Wait, you – Tommy played the oboe? Tommy H?”

“Yeah, in like fifth grade,” Steve shrugged, “Pull in to this spot up here.”

“….Steve, it kind of sounds like you’re implying that you think Tommy H is a bad kisser because you know from experience that he is.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“How?!”

“Because I’ve kissed him,” Steve said, trying to get her to pull into a parking spot. She manages to park in two spots and definitely hits the parking block. “Put the car in – don’t get out the vehicle before you put the car in park!”

Robin goes through a round of twenty questions like, was it a dare? A joke? On purpose? (“How do you kiss someone on accident, Robbie?”) and finally settles on, why???? Steve’s really casual about it like, that’s just what people do. People kiss their friends.

“No, they don’t,” Robin told him. “Steve, we’re best friends and we don’t make out in your bed.”

“Yeah, that’s because you’re a lesbian.”

This leads to Robin trying to ask if Steve likes guys without asking if Steve likes guys. They talk in circles of Steve insisting that this is just something that guys do. Bros being bros. It’s like how girls have pillow fights or whatever. Robin is flabbergasted and she can’t even talk about it with anybody because then she’d be outing Steve and he’s clearly not ready to come to terms with his sexuality yet.

He's driving her home later when she asks, “….Did you and Tommy H just kiss or uh, did you do more than that?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, hand stuff?”

“Robin!”

“…. So, uh… is Eddie your ‘bro?’”

#I love the thought of Steve and his friends not being cool until high school #Robin and Steve are just that SpongeBob scene with Patrick and the wallet #Robin: people of the same gender kissing is gay #Steve: right #Robin: boys kissing boys is gay #Steve: absolutely #Robin: You and Tommy making out is gay #Steve: no #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson tiktok saga

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cascade05 · 1 year ago

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Book Girl

Heads up: Language, suggestive but definitely not descriptive, also Bakugo Katsuki (he comes with a warning), and unedited—super unedited

Kay, so, hear me out… Bakugo Katsuki and an author reader. Yes, ooh, ahh, I know I know. For those of you, and I am sure there are many, who have no idea what I mean, lemme explain:

Bakugo with a reader who asks him the strangest, borderline worrisome question about his work. “What’s it feel like to get stabbed?” “Have you ever gotten shot? With a gun? Explain it to me. How did it feel?” Sometimes he thinks you’re a little psycho but it’s oddly therapeutic for him to explain the worst parts of his job and not care about being judged so he don’t mind none.

Bakugo with a reader who patches up his wounds like a pro and mumble “this would be perfect in chapter twelve.” And he’s just staring at her like “ma’m I’m dying plz don’t immortalize this in literature.”

Most importantly (the thought that had me on this tangent), Bakugo Katsuki with his cute little writer baby who tests things on him. It’s never easy to deal with things either. It’s not, like, fighting related things. You don’t go up to him and ask him if you could put him in arm-bar or ask him if he could put you in an arm-bar (Actually you did ask him to do that cause you wanted to know how to get out of one but—)

She does this… thing where she goes up to him and whispers the nastiest shit in his ear, like, you know, innocent book girl shit. Ya’ll know what I mean. Book girls are fucking wild and they read the sauciest shit. So she whispers some knee numbing curse and Bakugo freezes like a little schoolboy who just found out what puberty hormones are and she has the audacity to take a step back, examine him like he’s a fucking lab rat or some shit, then ask him if that made his heart flutter. Like, bitch it made something flutter, the hell did you think saying that would do? Does he answer? The first few times it happened, he couldn’t. The next few times he tried to deny it but mumbled and slurred his words like a drunk. When he wasn’t caught horribly off guard, he started just throwing her over his shoulder and showing her what it did to him. (It really helped her with that one scene—)

But that’s not the worst of it. No. No no no. You see, before Bakugo, she had never been in a relationship before. She had never been in love before and she most certainly had never done anything physical with someone else before. He was her first everything. So she has trouble writing particularly steamy scenes, at least when it comes to describing everything and it has to be perfect. Well, that’s what a boyfriend’s for, right?

So, there are times in Bakugo’s life where his writer girlfriend just decides to make out with him. That’s a normal thing to do, they’re together, but she doesn’t just kiss him. Remember, book girl shit, girl goes fucking—well, Bakugo doesn’t know what but it’s ridiculous.

Kay, first time it happens: She comes up to him all casually and cute-like and asks if she can try something. Blissfully unaware Bakugo raises a brow but lets her and she takes his breath away with a kiss that’s all passion and it’s hot—he’s hot. He’s melting, actually, and she takes it further and put her hands in exactly the right places and just when he’s getting ready to go all the way with it, she pulls back. Bakugo’s never felt whiplash quite so jarring but there she was asking him how it felt because she wants to write the scene from a man’s perspective. She asking him all these questions and bro’s on a different planet right now, he can’t answer, kay. Like, give him a second to breathe cause he can’t find the air, ya know. And it happens, well not all the time but enough for the poor man to think she just isn’t in to him like he’s in to her. If she was, she would’ve been frustrated too, right? But she wasn’t and there he was, sitting alone like a fool while she ran off to go write it all down before she forgot.

But, well, book girls, right? Those freaky shits know how to please a guy so you can bet your bottom dollar that she made it up to him. Thoroughly :)

Or, alternatively, writer gf who doesn’t write steamy shit and just does all of this to fuck with him cause his reactions are *chief’s kiss*

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bltngames · 7 months ago

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A Better Late Than Never Look at "Knuckles"

Note: I get pretty casual with spoilers as I go.

So after consuming 5 out of 6 episodes of the Knuckles show when it was new, and then waiting two weeks (I was busy with other things!) to watch the finale, I think I'm finally in a place where I can talk about how I felt about it.

From the earliest adopters, I'd heard that this show was trash. Some went so far as to call it one of the worst things in the Sonic franchise, period.

It's not the worst thing in the Sonic franchise. I don't even necessarily think it's bad. But I would also struggle to call it good. It's... a little more nuanced than that.

The story brings us back to Knuckles the Echidna in the weeks following the end of the second Sonic the Hedgehog movie. Having helped in the defeat of Doctor Robotnik, Knuckles finds himself restless. He's a big mish-mash of different barbarian, viking, and warrior stereotypes, and he can no longer quench his thirst for combat, something that's starting to drive his friends crazy.

Knuckles convenes with the spirits of his ancestors (Pachacamac, played by Christopher Lloyd) and learns he must take on an understudy and train them in the ways of the warrior, much like his father did with him. However, we also learn that Knuckles is now the last of his kind (something the movies never elaborated on, I don't think) and thus his understudy has to be someone from outside his species.

Pachacamac tells Knuckles to seek out Wade Whipple, the dopey deputy of Green Hills, Montana, and educate him in the ways of the ancient Echidna warriors. Wade recently lost a bowling tournament to a particularly snarky 8 year old girl scout, and so Knuckles and Wade go on a road trip to the National Bowling Stadium in Reno, Nevada so that Wade can reclaim his title, conquer his battleground, and become a true warrior.

Right away, there's a lot wrong with the Knuckles series, and most of it happens in the first three episodes.

Though we should be used to it by now, how fast and loose the movies play with Sonic game lore is pretty annoying. In the years since that second Sonic movie, we've seen the release of the Super Mario Bros. movie, and while that's not exactly a perfect movie in itself, it is maybe one of the most faithful and respectful game adaptations ever released.

The Knuckles series building a twisted Frankenstein of Sonic game lore now feels increasingly frustrating by comparison, especially as it rewrites the movie's own history in order to borrow from the more story-heavy games. The first Sonic movie shows us a whole tribe of Echidna warriors trying to capture a young toddler Sonic for unknown reasons. Though it's been almost two years since the last time I saw it, when Knuckles is introduced in the second movie, I don't think it's ever mentioned he's the last of his kind. We just know he's looking for Sonic for the same nebulous reasons the rest of his tribe were hunting him down in the first movie. The "Last Echidna" stuff comes from the games, and now it eventually gets mentioned in this series.

As a sidebar: I'm aware there's an off-hand piece of dialog in the Sonic 2 Movie Prequel comic that mentions Knuckles is the last Echidna, but that's a flimsy promo comic and none of it feels canon to me. That comic also has a cameo by the Chaotix and features way more Sonic environments than the movies ever will, making it feel disconnected to the actual movies.

Like it's fun, don't get me wrong, but it's also like when the Spider-man games based on the Sam Raimi movies would bring in characters from the comics, like Shocker or Mysterio. You KNEW if the movies ever dealt with those characters for real, they'd be completely different from what was in the games. The promo comic casually mentioning Knuckles is the last Echidna may as well have been nothing more than fluff for all anyone knew.

In fact, it gets mentioned in the Knuckles series that The Owl Tribe -- the same creatures who we saw protecting Sonic in the first movie -- have apparently exterminated the entire Echidna race. It's only been, what, seven years? Eight years? So what's going on there? Who are the good guys? Who are the bad guys? The Echidnas apparently wanted to kill Sonic, and the Owls were willing to commit genocide to protect him, and this all seems like some pretty heavy stuff for a series that still refuses to define what this "power" everybody has actually is.

It feels extra obnoxious considering the proximity to the upcoming Sonic the Hedgehog 3 movie, which is openly an adaptation of Sonic Adventure 2. There's more than a little Echidna lore that needs to be set up in order for parts of that game to make sense (if it ever did), and it's obvious they have little interest in carrying that forward in the movies, content instead to make up their own lore. And what we've seen of that so far doesn't necessarily seem to be better, it just seems to be different. Like they dug themselves into a hole and now have to dig back out in a different direction -- more damage control to cover for that first movie twisting up the source material.

Ultimately it ties back around to the fact that I don't think this is what Sonic fans were hoping for. There were a lot of directions to take a Knuckles solo project, and they made it into a road trip buddy comedy between two of the weakest characters. Movie Knuckles is a one-note Klingon stereotype and it feels like Idris Elba is sleepwalking through a lot of this chest thumping "heart of the warrior" stuff.

And Adam Pally as Wade Whipple was okay in small doses, but he wasn't exactly breaking new ground as the bumbling small town deputy. Putting these two guys in a box together is kind of a bad idea.

And for the first three episodes, it is. Wade and Knuckles have absolutely zero chemistry together. Most shows would have a little hint that these two guys like each other, but it's more that Knuckles wants to train Wade for selfish reasons (satisfying his ancestors) and Wade is kind of a dumb puppy who does what everyone else tells him to, sight unseen.

We also get new B-tier villains for our B-tier show, who swagger in like they missed the audition for their gig on Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers (no shade meant towards my sentai fans in the audience). They're GUN Agents, either current or former, and have apparently been selling weapons tech to a genuinely dangerous killer only known as "The Buyer."

Actually, another small sidebar: it was kind of strange to see Knuckles rated "PG" (for some mild swearing), but Paramount+ constantly inundate me with advertisements for Dora the Explorer, Minecraft, and The Loud House. This is actually my first, real, honest exposure to The Loud House, both in its cartoon and live action form. It feels like a show made for the whitest children on earth and if I have to see that little girl with the shrimp bowl fart again I'm going to throw my TV into the street.

Anyway, Knuckles: for the most part, the villains only really exist to remind us that this ties to the Sonic the Hedgehog movie universe while also providing goons for our heroes to fight.

If I'm being real, I was actually a little confused by the presence of the GUN Agents. The Knuckles show is kind of bad at establishing whether they still work for GUN or not. We do get a scene where they go rogue, but it's never clear if they're just overachievers who get results, or if they are actual card-carrying bad guys who are breaking off for a solo career. I just figured they were here as a flimsy setup for the third Sonic movie.

Mostly, though, it's a lot of fluff. Knuckles or Wade gets into trouble, and they accidentally stumble out of one bad situation into another, over and over, for a good 90 minutes. Very few jokes land, it doesn't feel very funny, it's a confusing mixture of new lore and stuff borrowed from the games, and it feels like the show is a mess that's constantly spinning its wheels.

Wade, now branded as a fugitive for being seen fighting GUN Agents (again: current or former?), accidentally and conveniently finds himself at his mother's doorstep seeking asylum. On the jewish holiday of Shabbat. Now, I'm not jewish, but it seems like Shabbat can happen on literally any Friday, yet the Knuckles series treats it like an annual holiday like Christmas or Halloween. Regardless, it seems like Wade happens to catch his mother on a Shabbat where she's already preparing a big meal, since Wade's older sister, an FBI agent, also happens to be in town. Which is also weirdly convenient. Wade, feeling like he can't disappoint his mom, sits down and they have a meal together, only to be assaulted by bounty hunters looking to claim the price on Wade's head.

This episode starts a kind of turning point for the Knuckles series. Over an hour into this three hour ordeal, and it finally provides some threads of character development for Wade Whipple. We learn his estranged father is a legendary bowling champion, who will also just so happen to be at the big bowling tournament Knuckles is ushering him towards. Knuckles has a cozy moment with Wade's mother, and we learn more about how much she hates Wade's father for breaking up their family.

The fourth episode finds Wade facing down yet another bounty hunter. Earlier I mentioned Wade lost a bowling tournament to an 8 year old girl -- specifically, he lost a placement match for a bowling team known as The Renegades. The captain of The Renegades is a man known as Jack Sinclair, and when he rejects Wade's entry into the team, he casually mentions a bounty hunter gig he runs on the side. Now, Jack's back to claim the $100k bounty, and Knuckles has decided that it's time for Wade to solve this problem on his own.

Ultimately, this means Wade is forced to convene with Knuckles' ancient ancestors for himself, leading to, of all things, a rock opera in a spectral bowling alley where we learn more of Knuckles' origin. If the Shabbat dinner episode finally budged the needle a little bit, this rock opera episode is the kick in the pants this series should have opened with.

We get Wade in a Knuckles costume, a puppet of Knuckles' dying father that's definitely a reference to Archie's controversial Sonic writer Ken Penders, dancers in owl costumes, and a genuinely impressive prop of a "Fire Demon" (Iblis from Sonic 2006) operated by an entire squad of bodysuit actors. It's a lot of fun and I even found myself starting to laugh at the jokes! It only took, what, two hours?

As the rock opera explains, after Knuckles watched all of his friends and family get slaughtered by the owl tribe, Knuckles wandered the galaxy, hopeless. Knowing he was the only one who could protect the master emerald, he challenged this fire demon to claim the power of The Flames of Disaster. The demon nearly killed Knuckles, but by keeping the warrior's spirit in his heart, he summoned the strength to defeat Iblis once and for all and claim The Flames of Disaster as his own. Thus, Wade learns that a warrior's true strength comes from within, giving him the push needed to have a final showdown with Jack Sinclair.

And then something else weird happens: the final two episodes of the show turn into something completely different.

In my opinion, the more the Knuckles show gets away from Knuckles himself, the better it gets. Even though I thought the rock opera origin story was great, the less we have to worry about their jumbled up lore, the better. And these last two episodes of Knuckles get about as far away from the Echidna as they can get, turning into a late 2000's sports comedy in the vein of something like "Balls of Fury", "Hot Rod" or "Blades of Glory." Except here, the stand-in sport of choice is bowling.

It's actually pretty funny how much the previous four episodes just stop mattering entirely. Like, the bounty on Wade vanishes. Being a wanted criminal (former or current) has no bearing on his ability to attend the bowling tournament despite apparently being national news not even 48 hours earlier. It's never mentioned or brought up again.

Knuckles almost exits the show entirely. He spends most of the final two episodes relaxing in a hotel room, leaving Wade to carry almost literally everything else by himself. We get introduced to Cary Elwes as Wade's father Pistol Pete, who summons the same level of ham and cheese we last got from him in Robin Hood: Men in Tights.

And... It works. It's not the greatest thing on earth, but compared to where this show started, once the bowling tournament kicks off, it's literally the best part of the whole series. The jokes get even funnier. We get all these different themed bowling teams, everybody in special costumes, with dumb names like "Ball Busters" and "Split for Brains." The editing gets really energetic and creative, too, with lots of flashy split screen cuts set to music.

It feels like somebody had been sitting on a decade-old bowling comedy script and dusted it off for these last two episodes. It stops being the Knuckles show and starts being the Wade Whipple show, and is surprisingly better for it.

But then, that's not entirely true. It's still the Knuckles show, and almost begrudgingly, they have to make up a reason for Knuckles to have a big fight at the end. It's almost funny how blatant it is -- there's so much focus on Wade's showdown with his Dad that when they cut back to Knuckles it feels kind of forced. Like they realized Wade is getting all of the pathos and character development but they still needed to show Knuckles doing something, anything, so here's a big robot that needs punching.

It's not terrible, and Wade eventually joins him, tying into his overall journey of believing in himself and becoming "a warrior", but it does feel kind of tacked on regardless. There's this general vibe of the show getting lost in the bowling tournament and then going "Oh, right. That guy."

Listen, I'm not here to evangelize this show. It's kind of an inconsistent mess. It's jammed full of obnoxious needle drop musical interludes, there's tons of REALLY blatant product placement, and just like with the previous two Sonic movies, whenever it makes direct references to game lore, it feels more pandering (and increasingly sloppy) than anything else. It takes its sweet time expanding on both its title character and his poorly chosen side kick. A lot of it made me cringe more than laugh.

But it does eventually hit a stride and I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the back half of it. You can really see the show start to find its footing once you hit that Shabbat episode, and by the end of the rock opera, Knuckles had finally won me over... by getting further and further away from Knuckles himself.

And... that's not really a great endorsement, now is it.

#writing #paramount+#knuckles series #knuckles show #knuckles the echidna #review #thoughts #idris elba #sonic the hedgehog #sega #sonic team

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