#the only actual line that ever acknowledges the almost kiss

[sentientgolfball]

Who wants to hear my stupid thoughts about Aether and Phantom and irresponsible use of medical equipment?

(I just think all quints are allowed to be weird about medical stuff ok)

When Phantom begins training in the infirmary they’re SO excited. Everything is so cool and they get to look at blood and bones and see how those weird little human creatures work. Unfortunately for Aether that means they’re very distracted most of the time. He tries to teach them about what a machine does and how to use it and the information does in one ear and out the other.

Fortunately by this point Arther knows how to calm the bug down, burn out his little star’s excess energy so they’ll pay attention. A quickie in the bathroom. Using his quint to make them cum untouched. Anything along those lines really. One good orgasm and Phantom is so calm and attentive. They can’t take their fucking eyes off Aether if they tried.

They’re almost done with their training at this point. Aether takes bug to learn about the ultrasound machine and the plethora of things it can be used to for. But they’re not paying any attention, more so than usual. It’s not their fault Swiss and Rain were teasing them all day with quick little kisses and hands that wandered too far. They don’t hear a word Aether says. The only thing in their mind is images of behind sandwiched between a multi ghoul and a water ghoul. Every hole filled.

Unfortunately bug still doesn’t have a grasp over their quint yet and Aether can feel the lust radiating off of them. He likes to think he has golden self control, for a ghoul at least, but he cannot take it anymore. He calls Phantom out on not paying attention and ever the people pleaser they babble and apologize and promise they’re listening. Aether just shakes his head and decides a hands on lesson is needed to make sure they really are learning.

He gets Phantom up on the table and preps the machine. Just a check up he claims. Just to show them how it works and what to look for. He tugs the waistband of their pants down just enough to run the probe over their stomach. He shows them what their uterus looks like. How empty it is. Phantom is downright fascinated being able to actually see inside of themselves like that. This actually does get them to pay attention. Maybe a little too well, but Aether won’t complain.

They don’t notice slide his free hand down. They don’t notice him shimmy his pants down just enough to pull out his half hard cock. They barely acknowledge Aether pulling their pants down more. Probably just to get better access. Well they are right about that. Everything Aether does goes unnoticed until they feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against their cunt. Already fucking drooling from fantasizing about Swiss and Rain all damn day.

They try to question him but Aeth just shush them and tells them they need to know what it looks like filled too. He slips inside and makes Phantom keep their eyes on the screen so they can watch him fuck into them.

They cum so hard so fast. Something about being able to see the head of Aether’s cock pounding into them while feeling it just makes them burn.

[tojisun]

so obsessed with the “my cock is big so it wont fit” / “try me” relationship dynamic ughhhh thinking about this with simon and reader, and how reader’s desperation made them spiral, makes me so giggly

thinking about the way you finger yourself everyday to stretch yourself out for simon; preparing yourself for him. practicing for him.

it becomes a routine; it was mundane, almost, but every time the thought that you’re doing this for simon slithers its way back to the forefront of your mind, you lose yourself—doused in the tendrils of your desire, so powerful it has you clenching on your own fingers.

they never hit deeper, never stretch you out wider, but they scratch the itch to be stuffed and manage to satiate you long enough for the next day to roll by.

it’s a lot worse when you meet up with simon because your core throbs with need, leaving you crossing your legs to give yourself that muted relief. but it’s never enough, is it?

simon’s right there, voice thick like molten lava, viscous as it washes over you. “are you alright, love?”

and you lie, gritting your teeth and clenching your fists tightly, telling him that of course you’re fine. because what else can you say? “i dream of your cock so much that i fuck myself everyday as prep”?

if you do say that, simon won’t ever let you live it down. so you stay quiet, crossing-and-uncrossing your legs at every of his deep laugh or gentle crooning, trying your best to ignore the way his palm squeezes the muscle of your thigh. you wonder if he’s doing this on purpose by now because there’s no way simon actually does naturally talk like this—

it’s all teases and taunts as a whirlpool of petnames dribble from his quirked-up lips. he calls you, baby and darling. he calls you sweetheart and lovie. but then he also calls you pup, doll, pet—anything that makes you gasp, and quiet puffs of breaths wheeze out of your trachea in your own stupor.

“you seem distracted,” he murmurs, his voice a worried croon.

“uh-huh,” you say, not really listening, because simon’s hand is climbing up higher and higher on your thigh.

simon notices your stare, because of course he does, then does…

nothing.

he drops you off to your place that night, and leaves a kiss on your forehead before driving off. you watch from your living room window as he disappears from your line of sight before clambering towards your room, tearing your pants off your body and chucking your little slip of underwear behind you as you do so.

you sink into your plush mattress, knees braced by your softer pillows, before reaching behind you to plunge yourself with your fingers. two of them slide in easily, and you crook them just right until you’re mewling. moaning. crying.

simonsimonsimon—

your orgasm is a sharp rip of euphoric release. but the tidal wave of your ecstasy wafts off into its remnants just as quick because this, fucking yourself, isn’t the fix you want. it isn’t the fix you need.

(that said, making simon buckle was a lot easier said than done.)

you parted your legs yourself, planting your hands on the underside of your thighs to pull them open for simon. simon laughs when he saw this, his pale cheeks so flushed with his own desire.

“hurry,” you whine, all choked-up with your desperation, and simon only croons a warning.

“we need ta’prepare you, pup. i’m too big f’r you.”

his acknowledgment makes you leak, your wanton thoughts turning into slick that gushes out of you. simon laughs, so utterly endeared.

“i prepared myself, si! please put it in!”

simon sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “i thought you wanted my cock?”

he waits for you to nod. you do so, careful, as your wet eyes look up at him.

“hmm. so listen to daddy, yeah?”

“okay,” you mumble, too overwhelmed to fight back.

simon smiles, murmurs his praises, and then he’s bringing his head between your legs. you squeak, surprise dotting your vision. you expected simon to prepare you, yes, but you expected his fingers—long, rough, thick—and not his tongue—

“siii-monnnn,” you keen, legs buckling from your hold until they tumble to his back, your strength getting zapped out of you at every lap of simon’s tongue.

it’s so good! so, so good!

simon takes over, hooking your legs over his shoulders himself as he burrowed deeper, nose grinding against the sensitive underside of your sex. his tongue pushes against your walls, sliding between them, and then simon sucks.

fuck! fuck—

sorta pt 02

[odoraful]

𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

brushing up on physical intimacy might be hard for an adeptus like xiao. however, he's willing to put in the effort for a romantic like you.

⟡ content: xiao x gn!reader; sfw; fluff; xiao is ALWAYS serious about wanting to learn more about you :') ; 1.5k words

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You froze in shock hearing what Xiao had just asked.

“Do you want to kiss?”

The words reverberated in your head. Did you need to schedule a visit with Baizhu to have your ears checked? Or did your serious-minded adeptus actually initiate wanting to kiss you? If it was any consolation, Xiao seemed an equal measure flustered by his own request.

You had just begun to unwind for the night at Wangshu Inn—Xiao pouring out tea, and you folding laundry to be put away—when he spouted the question.

Seeing your wide eyes barely blink, Xiao blurted out, “You kept talking about the opera we watched”—he cleared his throat—“and about how romantic the kiss was.”

You flushed.

The romanticist in you couldn’t help it though. At Liyue Harbour, the Yun-Han Opera Troupe had just performed a story of forbidden romance. It was a tale of two lovers who had been banished to opposite sides of the night sky. For only a single day out of a year, birds would form a bridge to help them reunite. And when they met, they shared a passionate kiss beneath the heavenly skies dotted by milky stars and galaxies. You had almost been moved to tears. Believing that Xiao was unaffected by such things, you freely chattered about it the way back to Wangshu Inn after the performance. Gushing endlessly about the magic of it all.

“It was! But, that doesn’t mean that I want to”—

You sucked in a breath, cutting yourself off.

Well, you didn’t not want to kiss Xiao. You just weren’t prepared at all for this.

“It’s just that you said it so suddenly!” you said, shaking out a blouse that matched the shade of pink that spread across your cheeks.

Affection came in many forms between the two of you—heartfelt conversations on moonlit nights, swims in Yaoguang Shoal when the weather warmed up, exchanging trinkets from one’s adventures—but neither of you had engaged in anything physical. It seemed like an invisible line not to be crossed. Shoulders side-by-side, but never touching. Hands brushing, but never holding.

You stored your small pile of clothes away, staring aimlessly into the open drawer trying to figure out a reply. He sounded so genuine in his offer, how could you turn it down? Resolute, you shut the drawer and swung around.

Betrayed by his tendency to blush easily, Xiao fought to keep a calm expression on his face. He rested his elbow on the arm rest of the wooden sofa, hand covering his mouth. His words came out muffled.

“Forget I said anything.”

No, no, don’t backtrack! you thought.

You needed to salvage this situation. Though, your mind drew a blank. Quickly, your dug around your memories and all the romantic stories you’ve read, featuring love interests timid, bold and everything in between. What was the perfect move to woo someone the fastest? A move that would be impossible to refuse?

You crossed the floor of the room with an unfaltering gait. Xiao’s eyes followed your movement, curious as to your intent.

With little hesitation, you sat on his lap.

Every hair on Xiao’s body raised. His heartrate thundered in his ears, faster than in any fight he had been in. The curve of your body against his thighs was a foreign, yet oddly comforting, sensation.

“W-what are you doing?!” he spluttered, flabbergasted.

Your boyfriend was in the most embarrassed state you had ever seen, his face as red as a jueyun chili.

“You asked if I wanted to kiss, right?” you confirmed, trying to keep your voice even. “Well, here’s my answer to that.”

A fuse short circuited in Xiao’s brain.

He didn’t even know where to look. At your eyes? No, they held too much bated anticipation. At your lips? Certainly not. Even staring down into his lap meant acknowledging the vulnerable position you two were in.

He couldn’t do this. He definitely couldn’t do this. Why had he even asked you in the first place? Because he could somehow act like a prince charming? Hold the back of your neck and sweep you off your feet with an expert kiss? However, beneath his panic, the temptation he felt was undeniable. Yet, time and time again, his desires were drowned out by the alarms blaring in his mind.

You laid your hands on his shoulders. The air around him sweetened, the perfume on your wrists enhanced by your closeness.

As you drew nearer to him, he was forced to look up at you. The panic stilled. All he could focus on was you. The steadiness of your breathing, and the tensing of your legs. Every little texture on your face, and each blink of your eyes.

Xiao wanted to try. Try to fulfil those romantic fantasies you spoke so fondly about. Maybe, just maybe, he could make you just as giddy and lovestruck.

The unexpected passion in his gaze was too overwhelming for you. Unable to hold eye contact with him anymore, you turned you head to the side,

Xiao knew to strike when enemies left an opening in their defences. Whilst you were the farthest from an opponent to him, it was those same instincts that pushed him to move after the perfect opportunity you gave.

Your mouth parted with surprise at his lips pressed against your cheek. Though it only lasted seconds, the softness of his kiss lingered behind, your skin tingling with elation. Outside, past the balcony of your room, the stars seemed to twinkle a magnitude brighter before he pulled away. You turned back to him, an incredulous smile plastered on your face, practically beaming.

“I-I know it wasn’t like how it was in the opera…” Xiao’s voice trailed off, hands fiddling at the fabric of the cushion beneath him.

You shook your head in strong disagreement. “I thought it was even better than the opera.”

Interlocking your fingers behind his neck, your voice filled with mirth, “I should tell Yun Jin about it so she can incorporate it into her next performance.”

“Do not tell her.”

“I’m joking! Well, only about the telling Yun Jin part that is.”

Up close, he could see exactly the way your eyes creased and your lips curved when you laughed. Had he done that? Been the one to provoke such cheeriness for you? The previous fears he had subsided, and it boldened him to ask you a question.

“Why is it—” his voice grew small—“you never ask me to do things like this with you?”

His sincerity both gladdened you, and twinged you with guilt.

“To be honest, I always assumed that you didn’t like to do these sorts of things,” you admitted, downcast.

“It is hard for me due to my… inexperience,” his face scrunched up slightly as he paused. An endearing habit of his when he let his thoughts collect itself before replying, “but if it’s for you, I’m willing to try.”

Hesitatingly, he brought a hand up to cradle of your face. His touch was feather-like, leaving a gap of mere millimetres against your skin.

“Just… don’t move so fast.”

Xiao examined your reaction, hoping that his words made sense.

“I understand,” you reassured, “I want us both to feel comfortable too, so we can take things slowly.”

Comfortable… Once again, he was conscious of your position.

He coughed, a slight awkwardness to his tone as he spoke.

“Then, does ‘taking things slowly’ involve sitting in my lap?”

“Ah!”

You almost jumped out of your skin realising the position you had put him in.

“I’m so sorry! I don’t know what I was thinking. It was just something I’ve seen happen so many times in the light novels I read, and I thought I’d try to do one on you.” You were rambling at this point, spouting anything out of your system.

Hurriedly, you got up, brushing the sweat from your palms on the fabric of your pants. You sat beside him on the sofa, willing the heat away from your cheeks.

“I-I didn’t dislike it,” he said, gently. “I would prefer if you asked next time so I’m prepared.”

You nodded. The corners of Xiao’s lips twitched at your sulk. He knew well enough he should change the subject to dispel the embarrassment radiating off you.

“You spoke of light novels? What are they?”

“They’re a type of literature from Inazuma.” As you continued, your composure renewed itself. “Wanwen Bookhouse has been supplying lots of new genres recently, specifically romance,” you added, somewhat sheepishly.

He hummed with interest. “Could you… share them with me?”

“You want to read some?” You brightened at his curiosity. “But, why?”

Xiao’s expression fell into seriousness, as if calculating a decisive move in a battle.

“I want to understand your likes more.”

His words landed a direct hit to your heart, causing it to flutter. It was a different feeling to when you read your novels. It was far more intense, and infinitely more meaningful.

He smiled softly.

“These stories will be good study for me.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[starsenha]

PERSISTENT / S.J

Pairing ◊ reader x Jake (ft. '02 line, Aespa's NingNing and Ive's Gaeul)

Genre ◊ VVVVVVERY SUGGESTIVE, fluff

Warnings ◊ SUGGESTIVE AF, Jake is kinda dominant, a little toxic??, some sort of manipulation i guess??, Jake is persistent (ofcc) and plays little mind games to get what he wants, sitting on lap, heavy making out, reader is jealous and possessive

Word count ◊ 4k

Summary ◊ Jake had been pursuing you and aksing you out for years now and he finally understood that this was not how he was gonna get you to got out with him, so he tried something different.

a/n: not proofread, enjoy!

You and Jake had known each other for as long as you could remember. From kindergarten finger paintings to high school finals, you were always in the same schools, the same classes, and somehow, the same everything. One thing you knew for sure was that Jake liked you. You didn’t know exactly when it started, but ever since that day, he hadn’t left you alone. He was like a little puppy, following you everywhere. He loved to annoy you because the simple fact that you acknowledged his presence was enough for him. 

Like that day, it was lunch period, and you were sitting with your best friends, Yizhuo and Gaeul, laughing over some silly meme Gaeul had shown you. Suddenly, you felt a familiar presence hovering over your shoulder.

“Hey, y/n, what’s up?” Jake’s voice was unmistakably cheerful, and you didn’t even need to look up to know it was him.

“Jake, we’re eating,” you said, trying to ignore him.

“Oh, perfect timing then! I brought you this,” he said, pulling out a slightly squished cupcake from his bag.

You sighed. “Jake, I already told you. I don’t like cupcakes.”

“I know, but this one is special. It’s made with extra love,” he said with a wink, placing it in front of you.

Gaeul snickered, and Yizhuo gave you a sympathetic smile. “Just eat it, Y/N, maybe he’ll go away,” Yizhuo whispered.

You rolled your eyes but took a bite. Jake’s face lit up like he’d just won the lottery.

“See? I knew you’d like it. So, how about that date?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“No, Jake. For the hundredth time, no,” you replied, trying to keep a straight face.

“Okay, okay. But remember, I’m a persistent guy,” he said, finally walking away, but not without blowing you a kiss.

Or that day during biology class. He just flirted with you whenever he got the chance. You were in biology class, trying to focus on the lab assignment. You could feel Jake’s eyes on you from across the room. It was almost like he was summoning you to look at him. You sighed and turned to face him.

“What do you want Sim?”

He grinned. “Nothing, just admiring the view.”

You groaned. “Focus on your assignment.”

“Can’t. You’re too distracting,” he said, leaning closer. “By the way, are you free this weekend? Maybe we could catch a movie?”

“Jake, do you ever give up?” you asked, trying to sound exasperated, but the corners of your mouth betrayed you with a slight smile.

“Nope, not when it comes to you,” he said, winking.

Before you could respond, Jay and Sunghoon, Jake’s best friends, started laughing from the other side of the room.

“Dude, you’re relentless,” Jay said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, give it a rest, man,” Sunghoon added.

Jake just shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “You guys don’t get it. I’m playing the long game.”

Later that day, you were studying in the library, trying to get some peace and quiet to study for your upcoming exams. You thought you were safe until you heard the unmistakable sound of Jake’s voice.

“Hey, y/n, need a study buddy?” he asked, sliding into the seat next to you.

You didn’t even look up from your book. “Jake, I’m trying to study, and I need actual quiet to concentrate.”

“Great! Me too. We can study together,” he said, pulling out his textbook.

You sighed. “Why do you always do this?”

“Do what?”

“Annoy me.”

“Because it’s the only way I can get your attention,” he said, leaning in closer. “And because I like you. So, how about that date?”

You looked at him, exasperated. “Jake, seriously?”

“Hey, it was worth a shot,” he said, smiling. “But I’ll be here if you change your mind.”

The years flew by, and you were now in college. And you ended up in the same college as him, sharing your minor. At this point, you were sure he was following you on purpose, even if he swore it was pure coincidence. 

It was a sunny afternoon on the college campus, and you were sitting on a bench with Yizhuo and Gaeul, enjoying the rare free time between classes. The conversation was light and filled with laughter when you spotted Jake approaching from a distance. Over the years, he had grown taller, his features more defined, and his presence somehow more commanding. You hated to admit it, but he had become hot.

“Hey, ladies,” Jake greeted, flashing his signature smile as he reached you.

You tried to stifle your smile, but it was no use. “Hey, Sim.”

“So, y/n, have you finally decided to go out with me?” he asked, sitting down next to you and leaning in closer than necessary.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the blush that crept up your cheeks. “In your dreams, Jake.”

“Oh, every night,” he said, winking. “You look really good today, by the way.”

You felt your face grow hotter. “Thanks, I guess.”

Jake’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Did I just see a blush? Are you finally warming up to me?”

“Yeah, keep dreaming, Jake,” you repeated, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably.

He chuckled. “Okay, okay. But just so you know, the offer still stands. Any time, anywhere.”

As he stood up to leave, he gave you a playful wink. “Catch you later, Y/N.”

You watched him walk away, unable to hide the small smile on your face. The moment he was out of earshot, Yizhuo and Gaeul pounced.

“Did you just smile at Jake?” Yizhuo asked, eyes wide with disbelief.

“No, I did not,” you protested, crossing your arms defensively.

“You totally did,” Gaeul chimed in. “And you blushed! I saw it.”

“Okay, maybe I smiled a little. But it doesn’t mean anything. I was just being polite, that’s all.” you insisted.

“Sure, it doesn’t,” Yizhuo said, smirking. It's not like you ever cared about being polite before. You even look less annoyed than you usually do.”

“I assure you, he’s still as annoying as ever,” you said, trying to sound convincing.

Gaeul raised an eyebrow. “Annoying? Maybe. But he became hot, huh?”

You groaned. “Don’t remind me. He’s like a loser trapped in a hot guy’s body.”

Yizhuo and Gaeul burst into laughter, and you couldn’t help but join in. Deep down, you knew they were right. Jake had a way of getting under your skin, but lately, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. And you had no idea why. It couldn’t be only because of his looks, though. Maybe you actually liked him ? You did not even know. After that day, every interaction you had with Jake, like every time he complimented you or flirted with you, elicited a blush on your cheeks, a blush that you tried to hide most of the time but failed miserably. 

Jake find himself hang out in Jay’s bedroom with Sunghoon one day. Hoon was flipping through a magazine while Jay fiddled with his guitar, strumming random chords. Jake was lying on Jay’s bed, staring at the ceiling with a satisfied grin on his face.

Sunghoon looked up from his magazine and smirked. “So, Jake, how’s your little mission to win y/n’s heart going?”

Jake propped himself up on his elbows. “It’s going pretty well, actually.”

Jay raised an eyebrow, pausing his strumming. “Really? She finally said yes to a date?”

“Not exactly,” Jake admitted. “But she’s been blushing every time I compliment her lately.”

Jay and Sunghoon exchanged surprised glances.

“No way,” Sunghoon said, closing his magazine. “Y/n? Blushing? Are we talking about the same person who used to roll her eyes at you every chance she got?”

Jake laughed. “Yep, the very same. She still rolls her eyes, but there’s definitely a blush there now. And she’s not as annoyed when I flirt with her.”

Sunghoon leaned forward, his interest piqued. “Interesting. So, what’s your next move?”

Jake shrugged. “I’m just gonna keep doing what I’m doing. It’s obviously working.”

Jay shook his head. “Dude, you need to step up your game. If she’s starting to warm up to you, you can’t just keep doing the same thing. You need to make a bold move.”

Sunghoon nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you need to shake things up. Have you ever thought about making her jealous?”

Jake frowned. “Jealous? I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Trust me,” Sunghoon said, leaning back in his chair. 

‘’Why would he trust you though? It’s not like you pull girls,’’ Jay retorted. 

‘’First, rude. And, I saw it in a movie; I’m sure it’ll work!’’ Exclaimed sunghoon, looking a bit offended. “We’ve seen how she was with her exes. What was his name again? Jeonghyeon?’’ the two man nodded soflty. ‘’She’s definitely the jealous and possessive type. If she thinks you might be interested in someone else, it might push her to realize her feelings for you.”

Jake looked thoughtful. “I guess that could work. But how do I do it without making her mad?”

Sunghoon grinned. “Easy. Just hang out with other girls, flirt a little, but make sure Y/N sees it. Nothing too over the top, just enough to get her attention. Also, you need to put some distance between you two.”

Jay nodded. “Yeah, that could work actually. She’s never gonna realise her feelings if you still follow her like a puppy.”

Jake sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, guys. I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

“You won’t,” Sunghoon assured him. “Just be subtle about it. She’ll get the message without feeling like you’re rubbing it in her face.”

Jake thought about it for a moment before nodding. “Alright, I’ll give it a shot. But if it backfires, I’m blaming you two.”

Jay and Sunghoon laughed.

“Deal,” Jay said. “But trust us, this is going to work.’’

The day after, Jake set his little plan in motion. He knew it was not really a sane idea, but as long as he ended up with you, he didn’t really care how. The sun was shining brightly over the college campus as you walked to your first class, coffee in hand. You spotted Jake ahead, talking with Jay and Sunghoon. Normally, he’d be quick to greet you with a smile or a joke, but today, he barely glanced your way as you passed by.

“Hey, Jake,” you said, hoping to catch his attention.

He looked up briefly, offering a curt nod. “Hey, y/n.”

That was it. No teasing comment, no playful grin, no flirting. Just a nod. You frowned, feeling an unexpected pang of disappointment. You continued on to class, but the interaction, or lack thereof, lingered in your mind. Throughout the day, you noticed Jake acting distant. He didn’t seek you out between classes, and even when you were in the same room, his attention seemed to be elsewhere. You told yourself it didn’t matter and that you didn’t care, but it was hard to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest.

Lunchtime rolled around, and you were sitting with Yizhuo and Gaeul in the cafeteria. You tried to focus on their conversation, but your eyes kept drifting toward Jake, who was sitting a few tables away with Jay, Sunghoon, and a girl you recognized from your biology class, Chaeyoung.

Jake was laughing at something Chaeyoung said, his attention fully on her. He leaned in closer, his expression animated and flirtatious. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach. Sure, you had already seen him with other girls before, but never he had his attention solely on them and not even a glance towards you. 

Yizhuo nudged you. “Earth to y/n. What’s going on?”

“Huh? Nothing,” you said, trying to sound casual. “Just distracted.”

Gaeul followed your gaze and smirked. “Distracted by Jake flirting with Chaeyoung?”

“I’m not distracted,” you insisted, but your eyes betrayed you, flicking back to Jake and Mia.

Jake glanced your way, and for a moment, your eyes met. He smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction. He then turned back to her, laughing at something she said and placing a hand on her arm.

You felt your cheeks heat up. “What’s his deal, anyway?" you muttered, aggressively stabbed your food with your fork. 

Yizhuo and Gaeul exchanged knowing looks.

“Looks like someone’s a little jelly,” Yizhuo teased.

“I’m not jealous,” you snapped a little too quickly. “It’s just... weird seeing him paying attention to another girl that much, but good for him I guess.”

Gaeul raised an eyebrow. “Sure, Y/N. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You tried to ignore them, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Jake and Chaeyoung. Why did it bother you so much? You had always found Jake’s attention annoying, but now that it was directed at someone else, it felt different.

A few days later, Jake was still distant from you, and honestly, that made you a bit sad. His messages, his constant flirting, you actually missed it. You missed him. Your biology teacher pairs you up for a project, and you were a little bit too happy about it. Usually, it annoyed you are being paired with him, but this time, you saw that as an opportunity to spend some time with him. 

You stood in front of Jake’s house, taking a deep breath before knocking on the door. Jake opened the door with a friendly smile. “Hey, Y/N. Come on in.”

“Thanks,” you said, stepping inside. “Nice place.”

“Thanks,” Jake replied, leading you to his living room where his laptop and project materials were already set up. “Figured we’d be more comfortable here than in the library.”

You sat down on the couch and pulled out your notes. “Yeah, this is fine.”

For the next hour, you both worked diligently on the project. You couldn’t help but notice that Jake hadn’t thrown a single flirtatious comment your way, and it was starting to bug you. Normally, by now, he’d have made at least a dozen jokes or compliments.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. “So, Jake, you’re not gonna compliment at all today? Like, my hair, my outfit, nothing?’’

Jake looked up from his laptop, a smirk playing on his lips. “Oh, that. Well, I figured I’d finally take the hint. You’ve rejected me so many times, I thought it was about time I moved on.”

You blinked in surprise, not expecting that response. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly. “I mean, there’s only so much rejection a guy can take before he gets the message.”

His words hit you harder than you expected. Deep down, you’d grown used to and even liked his attention. The thought of him no longer caring felt strangely hollow.

“Oh,” you said, trying to sound indifferent. “I guess that makes sense.”

Jake noticed the change in your demeanor and hid a smirk. He had hoped to evoke this reaction. “Yeah, it’s for the best. I’m over it.”

You bit your lip, feeling a mix of emotions. “Well, good for you, I guess.”

Jake leaned back, crossing his arms. “You almost sound disappointed, y/n.”

“I’m not,” you said quickly, but the slight crack in your voice betrayed you.

“Sure,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “But, hey, at least now we can just focus on this project without any distractions, right?”

You nodded, but the words felt hollow. “Right.”

As you both continued working, you found it hard to concentrate. Jake’s lack of flirtation was more distracting than his usual behavior. You realized just how much his playful comments and attention had meant to you, even if you never admitted it out loud.

After a while, Jake stretched and stood up. “Want something to drink? I could use a break.”

“Yeah, sure,” you said, trying to sound casual. “Water’s fine.”

Jake headed to the kitchen, and you took the moment to collect your thoughts. Why did it bother you so much that he claimed to be over you? Was it possible you’d taken his attention for granted?

When he returned with the drinks, you decided to test the waters. “So, Jake, are you really over it? Over me, I mean.”

Jake handed you a glass, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Why, y/n? Does it matter?”

You hesitated, feeling a flush of frustration. “I don’t know. Maybe.” You looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “I… I kind of missed your messages and your attention. It’s weird not having you around all the time.”

Jake’s eyes widened in surprise, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “Really? You missed me?”

You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Yeah, I guess I did. A little.”

Jake’s grin turned into a smirk. “Well, well, well. Look who’s coming around. You’re finally admitting you like my attention.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no heat behind it. “Don’t get cocky, Jake.”

“Oh, too late for that,” he said, leaning back and crossing his arms, a self-satisfied expression on his face. “So, you admit it. You like me.”

You sighed, feeling a mixture of frustration and something else—something softer. “I didn’t say that.”

“But you did miss me,” he countered, leaning forward again. “That’s a start.”

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “Okay, fine. Maybe I missed you a lot. Happy?”

Jake’s smile was radiant, his eyes dancing with joy. “More than happy, y/n. I knew deep down you liked me too.”

You groaned, trying to hide your smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he said, his tone cocky and arrogant. “Admit it, you like me.”

You bit your lip, feeling the last of your defenses crumbling. “Maybe I do.”

Jake’s eyes softened as he reached out, gently cupping your face with his hand. “Finally,” he murmured, his voice tender. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear that.”

Before you could respond, Jake leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if he was giving you a chance to pull away. But when you didn’t, he deepened the kiss, his hand moving to the back of your neck to pull you closer.

You melted into the kiss, feeling a warmth spread through you. It was as if everything finally made sense. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, but Jake’s eyes were filled with happiness.

“So, does this mean you’ll go out with me?” he asked, his voice hopeful.

You smiled, feeling lighter than you had in a long time. “Yeah, Jake. I’ll go out with you.”

Jake’s grin was infectious as he pulled you into another kiss. This time, the kiss was deeper, more intense. His hands moved to the small of your back, pulling you closer until you practically sat in his lap.

You let out a soft gasp as you felt the firmness of his chest against yours, and Jake took the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss even further as his hand fisted the back of your shirt. Jake’s hands roamed your back, moving them underneath the shirt, tracing patterns that sent shivers down your spine. 

He pulled you fully onto his lap, his grip on your hips firm. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and husky.

You moaned softly, the sound swallowed by his kiss. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze intense. “You’re so beautiful, y/n. Every time I see you, it takes my breath away.”

Your cheeks flushed at his words, but before you could respond, he captured your lips again, his hands sliding up to cup your face, while his other rested on your hips. You had no idea how things escalated so quickly, but it felt so good. The kiss was all-consuming, and you felt like you were floating, every nerve ending in your body alive with sensation.

Jake’s hands moved to your thighs, squeezing them gently before sliding up to your waist. “You feel so perfect,” he whispered, his lips trailing down to your neck. “So soft, so amazing.”

You tilted your head back, giving him better access as he kissed and nipped at your skin. “Jake… oh my God…’’ you let out a moan as you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his plump lips on your skin. 

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your neck. “I love hearing you say my name like that,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “Fuck, baby, you drive me crazy.”

You moaned softly, your hands roaming his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt. “Jakey… you feel so good,” you whispered, unable to hold back.

He smirked, clearly pleased by your reaction. “You like that, don’t you, baby?” he teased, his eyes intensely dark. “You like feeling my hands on you.” You nodded eagerly, and your reaction made him chuckle slightly. His eyes locked onto yours, and he pulled you closer, his grip tightening. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N. So perfect.’’ 

You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the raw emotion, and it made your heart ache with a mixture of tenderness and desire. You leaned down, kissing him with all the pent-up passion you’d been hiding for so long. As your lips met, you couldn’t help but admire how handsome he had become. Your hand traced his jawline, his neck, and basically everything you could touch. 

Driven by a sudden need to feel more of him, you tugged at his shirt, desperate to see and touch the skin beneath. Jake leaned back slightly, allowing you to pull his shirt over his head. As you did, your breath caught in your throat. His body was even more beautiful than you had imagined—and yes, you imagined how his body would look like more times than you cared to admit. 

Jake noticed your admiration and smirked, his cockiness returning. “Like what you see, baby?” he asked, his voice teasing.

You nodded, your fingers trailing over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. “Yeah, I really do.”

He chuckled softly, finding your desperation both cute and incredibly hot. “You’re amazing, baby. And now, you’re all fucking mine.”

He pulled you back into a kiss, this one even more intense than before. His hands moved up your back, pulling you closer, his fingers tangling in your hair. You couldn’t help but whimper against his lips, the sound driving him wild. You could feel how hard he was beneath you. 

“You’re so desperate for me,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and desire. “It’s so hot.”

You blushed at his words, but the heat between you only intensified. With that, he guided you down, his lips trailing hot kisses along your neck, down to your collarbone. His hands moved to your shirt, slowly lifting it over your head. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin. “Every fucking inch of you.”

He continued to kiss and caress you, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body and his hands roaming your body. You felt like you were melting into him, every sense heightened. He was intoxicating.

As he kissed his way back up to your lips, you couldn’t help but run your hands over his chest, marveling at the hard planes and smooth skin. “Jake… I need you,” you whined, your voice trembling with desire.

He captured your lips in a fierce kiss, his hands roaming your body with possessive intent. “You have me, baby. All of me,” he growled, his voice low.

The kiss escalated, growing more urgent, more desperate. Jake’s hands were everywhere, exploring, caressing, claiming. You felt like you were on fire, every touch igniting a new wave of pleasure. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you lost in each other.

As you kissed him back with equal fervor, you knew this was just the beginning. But one thing you were sure about, was that this biology project would not be done today. 

[this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms]

Starved || Jujutsu Kaisen ||

Touch starvation that starts slowly and unexpectedly, growing until it gnaws at you. Demanding attention, demanding it be fed. Turning into more until it’s too late to go back, you can’t lock it away this time.

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader

Warnings: Implied sexual relationship, touch starvation

Words: 1K+

|Not My GIF|

The first time you sleep with Satoru is breathtaking, earth shattering even. It awakens something in you that had been dormant for years. And it awakens something else you’d long forgotten about, had given up on completely. Except you didn’t notice it at first, too blissfully caught up in pleasure.

Until he stays over for the first time, too tired to go home after what you’ve done. You don’t mind, you’re tired too and if the situation were reversed, you like to think he’d let you stay. What you didn’t expect was the touching that came after sex.

His arms wrap around you and you’re pulled back into his chest. He's bigger than you, his body easily covering the entirety of yours. You’re tense for a few moments, still beneath the blankets and holding your breath. It’s been forever since you’ve been held let alone cuddled. It’s almost foreign and your body reacts to it, goosebumps lining your skin and feeling like it’s on fire. Stomach twisting and churning that you think you might throw up right then and there. Yet, you don’t know why, well you do but you refuse to acknowledge it.

Still, you don’t push him away. Not even when he kisses your shoulder a few times, different from the way he kissed you before. There’s no lust behind it, only genuine care and it burns your skin more than any mark left behind ever could. You don’t sleep until his soft breathing fills your ears, only relaxing when you know he’s asleep. That night was the best sleep you’ve had in years, you didn’t even notice him slipping away in the morning.

The next time you sleep together, he does leave right after. Something about an early morning meeting he couldn’t miss. You don’t sleep well that night, missing the way his arms wrapped around you more than anything else. it makes you nauseous to be so alone and you’re so aware of it too. You toss and you turn, readjusting your pillow thinking that’s the problem. You even try warm milk or whatever remedy you can find on the internet. But you just can’t fall asleep…

You don’t see him again until a week or two later because of your busy schedules. Or at least that’s what you tell him when he calls you to come over. You figure you should erase the memory of being held before seeing him again. It doesn’t work and every night without him leaves you craving for a repeat of the first night. It’s repulsive and your skin crawls, almost as if you want to burst out of it. You probably should, shed your skin into a new one that didn’t know Satoru’s touch.

You think you should avoid him until you’re able to bury those feelings. But when he shows up one night, they just come spilling out all over again. You sleep together again and it feels so much more different than every other time. You blame it on the lack of contact that has you crazy for each other but instinct tells you it's not. It’s more, so, so much more.

Because suddenly his lips feel different on your skin, leaving an imprint of something else. His hips rolling into yours aren’t just about chasing after mindless pleasure. It almost feels like he does it on purpose too. Like he’s making sure you remember him, that he’s imprinted into your very being. Yet you don’t want to admit what really lies behind it, too scared to do so. Too scared to admit how much you need him, how much you might actually love him. How much he might actually love you.

When you finish basking in the afterglow and he’s getting ready to leave, you stop him. You can’t find the words to ask him to stay but it’s like he knows. He lays back down and scoops you into his arms. You come to notice how warm he really is, seeping into your skin soothingly. Your nerves relax and you’re back to being putty in his arms. You don’t dare admit you feel safe and protected with him.

He starts staying more often and just sex turns into something more. Late night conversations, endless cuddling through the night, once you even took a bath together. You share whispers that hold more meaning than any normal conversation during the day. Walls you’d forgotten about start crumbling down in front of him. And you realize how much you missed just talking to another person. Your heart yearning for a meaningful conversation with someone else.

It’s bordering dangerous territory but you can’t bring yourself to stop. Telling him things you’ve never dared utter to anyone else, and he does the same. Spilling secrets meant only for you to hear, entrusting you so much that you have no choice but to fall for him.

He stops leaving early in the mornings too, staying long enough for you to wake up to him. And he wakes you up ever so lovingly. Kisses adorning your shoulders, coaxing you awake with a soft whisper of ‘good morning.’ He stays after that too, long enough for you to make breakfast for the two of you. It feels so domestic despite just being friends who sleep together.

You seek more of this, starving for companionship that only he could fill. Longing for little touches and small looks of something only the two of you understood.

You think you broke the night he grabbed your face in his hands and cradled your cheeks. Sweet nothings were whispered against your lips and sex turned into love making. Because nothing but love could justify what was happening between the two of you.

You realize you weren’t just physically starved of another person’s touch. Your soul was starved too, an aching hunger that only he could quell.

[shotmrmiller]

WHAT YOU WROTE WAS AMAZING PLS IM SOBBING I LOVE IT SO MUCH GIVING U SMOOCHES

but okay so you sleep by yourself that night he comes home. you know he goes out with the boys — mostly on the weekends but sometimes the weekdays too — so when he comes home just a bit later than usual it doesn’t ring any alarm bells even if you pout a little. and you damn near run into his arms and snuggle into his neck only to smell — not him. something, someone else has touched what you thought was yours.

you pull back from the hug to look him over further. clothes mussed up, lips looking like they were bitten, a little flushed. a little like when you two —

you swallow thickly, throat lining with glass and tears as you suck in a breath. you find that you can’t actually form words for a moment, worried that only bile and venom would come out.

“did you fuck someone?”

he looks panicked — guilty — and you don’t even need him to say it for you to know what he’s done.

“who?” you ask, voice barely there, only able to be heard over the icy silence that followed your question. he replies one of the other pets. you nod, more to yourself than anything, trying not to scream your heart out at him.

but your heart cracks the moment he opens his mouth.

for the first time since you began living with him, you slept alone.

(you did scream at him. tripping over your words and panicked breaths and streams of tears. how could he do this. he didn’t call, didn’t ask. did he even think to? did he even care?)

you’re exhausted. too tired crying like you’ve never cried before, feeling like the weight of betrayal is crushing you as you sleep.

you almost fear that it’ll kill you.

the next day — friday — he knocks on your door before he goes to work. he tells you to have a good day. you don’t acknowledge him.

but you miss him. you absolutely fucking hate him but you miss him so much, it hurts. that particular ache is almost worse than the one of betrayal.

almost.

by mid day, you figure you should give him a chance to talk. he obviously feels guilty, and you love him. despite everything, you love him.

so you clean yourself up and try to look a little pretty for him, wearing a cute slip lingerie dress and bows on your ears.

you clean up around the flat a little. you fold his clothes — he’s been grumbling about it lately and always say he’d do it later. so you do it for him, folded with precision and left to sit on the edge of the bed.

you’re still upset and anxious and everything in between. the nerves make it hard to feel anything and you feel too sick to eat. but you nibble on some bread, knowing he wouldn’t want you to neglect yourself. you love him.

when it starts getting later, you decide to make him his favorite cookies. it’s been awhile since you’ve made him anything, and you’ve always enjoyed making these for him. the sweetest kisses tend to follow.

the night rolls around to the point where you know he’s off work. it’ll take him a little to get home, so you settle on the couch and wait.

but as the hours tick by, later and later, the worry grows and gnaws and threatens to split you from the inside out.

maybe he’s out with the boys again? you’d think, given the circumstances, he’d want to come home to you. but old habits die hard, you suppose.

but it gets later. and later.

later than he ever would be out even when things were perfect between you two.

it shatters you. where was he? what was he doing? was he —

the thought makes you sick.

he comes home after midnight. after you wretched in the toilet and cried yourself to sleep — again.

didn’t he love you too?

he sees the cookies put away in a container and a pit grows in his stomach, a void ready to eat his heart. whatever is left of it, anyways.

there’s a note sitting on the top.

“sleep well.”

the writing was shaky and it looks like a few tears spilled onto the words as you wrote them.

your usual xoxo at the bottom was crossed out.

you beat me to it:)

you bloody beat me to it. Fool me once.

your eyes are blank as if the life had all but faded from them, and in a way, they had.

Sitting him down, you calmly, (calmly, because there is nothing in you left other than acceptance, and youll be damned before you ever beg a man to want you) say, "I'll be leaving in the morning."

He tries to say something but nothing he could ever say will fix what he chose to break. "No, the fact that i'm even bothering to tell you is a courtesy you don't deserve. You've made your bed, now continue to lie in it with whoever you keep seeing after work." Smoothly, you get up and walk towards your room.

There is no rancor in your heart for whoever it is he's been with. After all, the one in the relationship with you was him.

You stuff a towel under the door, covering the gap, and clutch your collar to your chest, letting the last tears youll ever cry over him track down your cheeks. He doesn't deserve to see nor hear your pain.

You call an uber while he's at work and disappear.

When he comes back home, the place is dark and empty. He sits at the dinner table alone, with two fingers of whiskey in front of him, and in his hand is the last note you left him, stiff with dried tears and an xoxo at the very bottom.

What makes him crumble is when he sees the glint of your personalized collar on his nightstand, and it finally hits him that you're gone. For good.

listening to eurielle while writing epic sad is just chefs kiss.

[g-xix]

Rodeo Ride | George Clarkey

George Clarkey smut as requested by @jazsiken and i didn't really like George when I first started writing this... But goddamn he is fine. Proof:

Lenger. Content (warnings): Smut, 2.3k wordcount, alcohol/drinking Without further ado- enjoy.

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

Something about the way George rode the rodeo machine had you feeling a type of way you hadn't realised you'd felt for George. 

The way his hips had moved so fluidly, back and forth, I could only savour the moment as I watched in awe. One hand on the stick, one hand up in the air, George's hips rocked back and forth and I could only gulp down my drink further, trying not to let the heat rise up to my cheeks as I felt myself get more turned on. 

It was all well and good jokingly giving each other pick-up lines in front of the camera, making innuendos and awkward flirting- but actually catching feelings was not on the agenda. Especially not when it was the first time you'd ever really met up in real life.

"You never told me George was so fine." I announced to Cam and Chloe, joining them at the bar. Them two were the sweetest partners, always in each others arms and looking at one another like they saw shooting stars in one another's eyes. 

"I thought you could tell through the screen," Chloe grinned, taking a sip from her cup. "You seemed to acknowledge it all whenever you was filming-"

"They were jokes!" I hissed, looking backwards and noticing that a now very drunk Max Balegde was on the bull, and had gathered quite the crowd to cheer him on. "I didn't realise he was actually hot in real life!"

"I did." Cam spoke bluntly and shrugged. Chloe sighed with a small smile before losing eye contact with me and grinning as she looked behind me.

"What," I narrowed my eyes at the smiley girl, not wanting to lose eye contact but also wanting to see what was behind me. "what are you smiling about-"

"You alright?" I felt a hand on my lower back and turned around to see none other than gorgeous George himself- drink in hand and smile on face.

"Yep, just gonna nip to the toilet-" Chloe excused herself, Cam following- though he flashed me an overexaggerated wink as he left, causing me to giggle despite deeply dying inside.

George's hand felt so right on my lower back, the tips of his fingers curling around my waist and sending tingles down my spine at the feeling of it. He trailed his across to my arm leaving goosebumps where he touched, and gently pulled me closer as he sat on one of the barstools- manspreading his legs either side and testing my dignity as I tried not to look down to his hips which had seduced me so strongly only a few minutes ago.

"You look really great, Holly." He smiled, his beautiful blue eyes seeming to glow despite the dim bar's lighting. 

"Well you look sexy." I spoke my thoughts without any hesitation, trying not to regret them as they left my mouth with the confidence of a couple drinks. George cocked a brow, smiling cockily enough to make me feel weak in the knees.

"You really think?" He mused. 

"Yes." I nodded with a smirk growing on my lips as his own began showing in the corners of his lips. Fuck he was so hot. I stepped forwards, resting my hands against George's thighs and leaning forwards to shorten the gap between our us. 

"Is that so? Well, I gotta admit I wasn't expecting you to be this confident considering it's the first time we've really met," George responded, his voice low and husky. His fingers brushed against my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine. "But I think I like it."

Our faces were so close they were almost touching, and his eyes only flickered down to my lips for a millisecond, but that was enough for me to bridge the gap, smashing our lips together without second thought. His lips began moving with mine, quickly developing into a passionate open mouth kiss as his hand trailed down to my lower back once more- pulling me closer so that I was flush against his body, wrapping my arms around his neck and deepening the kiss as I felt my body arch into his. We only drew away a moment later, myself gasping into the kiss as I felt something hard from his cargos pressing into my lower stomach. 

"Wanna take this somewhere more private?"

I grabbed onto his hand, leading him out of the bar with haste- not bothering to say goodbye to anyone else. Although it seemed we were spotted anyway.

"BYE HOLLY, BYE GEORGE!" Arthur waved happily, probably not realising the situation. Arthur Hill spoke a few quick words which seemed to get it through to him though, as Arthur's mouth fell agape. And that caused:

"USE PROTECTION!" Cam yelled, making me blush a bright crimson red before the cool outside air hit my cheeks, making it all feel so much more real- the tight grip of George's hand, the tingle of George's lips against mine- it was all happening so quickly but fuck, I was happy about it.

One quick Uber later, George had me against his apartment wall, head rolled back and chest heaving as he kissed across my jaw before his lips left and found my neck, finding my sweet spot effortlessly as I let out a loud groan, making him suck harder- gently biting and leaving a red mark which drove me wild.

"Jump," He mumbled into my neck, and I did just that- wrapping my legs around his waist as his hands trailed down my back before landing square on my arse, walking me through to a bedroom whilst his lips remained attached to my collarbone, likely leaving a few more marks. 

Laying me down on the bed gently, he quickly stripped his shirt off before assisting me in ripping off my tight dress, both of us pausing our motions for a moment to just appreciate one another's bodies. His jaw fell slack, eyes following the gentle curves all the way from my chest down to my thighs, whilst I couldn't rip my eyes away from his built arms all the way to his toned abs. 

"You're so fucking gorgeous," He breathed after a moment, reconnecting the space between us to slot our lips together again, hungrily, as though he needed to taste my lips again. 

Breaking the kiss, he began trailing down my body, licking a stripe over one of the red marks he'd already left, making me moan and arch my back into him, needing more- craving him. He pulled my bra to the side, caressing my tits, pressing his tongue flat to the bud whilst his other hand gently pulled the other. 

To say I was completely at mercy to his touch was an understatement, I was completely drunk to his touch at this point. 

He trailed lower down my body, stopping as he came level with my core, his breath fanning against my panties and landing cool against my inner thighs, making me squirm- waiting for him to do something. 

"You want me to touch you?" His voice was unexpected, breaking the silence with his words which were velvety and low. 

"Yes, of course," I breathed, and he put either hand on my thigh, rolling his large hands back and forth over them before responding.

"Beg for it."

His words only triggered me more, making me want it- want him even more despite the teasing. I felt shivers running down my spine as I spoke.

"Please, George..." I whispered, my voice trailing off.

"Please what?" The smirk in his voice was evident.

"Please..." I scrunched my eyes together, lowering my voice to a whisper, feeling almost embarrassed as I asked for it. "Fuck me."

"Louder, baby."

"Fuck me!" I exclaimed, sitting up to make eye contact with his stupidly bold and brazen face. Seeing his face- that smirk that quirked up the corners of his lips, his intoxicated blue eyes- and that clean stubble made me want to wrap my legs around his head until my thighs were burning from the way his stubble grazed my skin whilst he lapped me up. 

Clearly that was a thought for another day though, as I watched George undoing his belt, fingers working so elegantly despite his hasty neediness, and I had to stop myself from begging him to fuck me with them instead. 

He flipped me so that I was on my front instead, muttering "ass up," so that I was arching my back to him, before I felt his tip running along my core, my slick coating his cock as I leant back into his touch, hearing him let out a deep groan of pleasure as he inserted himself in, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as I felt him bottom out, tip kissing my cervix as he paused for a moment- before pulling all the way out and slamming back in again, eliciting a moan from me as I felt him hit that sensitive spot inside of me.

I arched my back, feeling him hit that spot again and again as he thrusted, hands gripping onto my waist with such force I could feel my hips bruising- though I couldn't care less at the moment.

Letting my head roll back, eyes screw close as the pad of his thumb made contact with my clit, rubbing in slick figures of eight- I saw our reflections in the mirror. George seemed in a state of absolute bliss as he pounded, the sight of his unthinkably perfect hips making my pussy tighten around him which elicited another moan from him. And the sight of me- so lost in his touch- hair completely roughed, ass up and face clearly gone with each thrust he delivered, it was only going to take a few seconds before I came.

George grabbed my hair, pulling it back so that my head was pulled back as well, exposing my raw throat and hickeyed collarbone and neck in the mirror. With the sight of George's blissed face and feeling of him pounding me whilst stimulating my clit as well, I felt the pressure build in my stomach come loose as I let out a lewd moan, George muttering a fuck as he felt me tightening, before with a few more thrusts, I felt him fill me too. He thrusted though our highs for a few more moments, giving me stars in my vision from the prolonged pleasure as I felt my eyes rolling to the back of my head, before I collapsed down onto the bed, completely euphoric after what I'd felt.

George on the other hand gently began giving soft, chaste kisses to the back of my neck and back, mumbling soft praises of well done, gorgeous and you're so beautiful.... Before disappearing from the room for a few moments, coming back with a cloth and some water for me- cleaning the mess around us and helping me get into bed, before slipping in besides me and wrapping his arms around my waist tightly, leaving a smile on my face as I felt myself fall asleep against George.

------------ BONUS ------------

BRINGGGG BRINGGGG BRINGGGG

George and I simultaneously let out a groan at the noise. Having peacefully been holding onto one another, whispering little talk and simply enjoying the feeling of a shared bed- neither of us wanted to get up. And that sound of the phone ringing wasn't much appreciated either.

I picked my phone from the bedside table, reading Chloe's name pop up on the screen. 

"It's Chloe, I can't just ghost her because she calls until I actually pick up." I groaned, pressing the green accept button before realising I'd accepted to a facetime.

Her face popped up with wide eyes and messy hair, jaw dropping open as she saw my view. Clicking on the little rectangle in the corner, I understood why she'd reacted that way.

My hair was a ruffled mess (quite clearly in the sex-way), it clearly wasn't my room (very distinct lavender walls), and worst of all- three blossoming hickeys were visible across my neck. 

Pulling the duvet up and burrowing down to cover the marks across my neck, I only made a greater folly by then exposing George behind me, lazing flicking through his phone with his arm around me. 

Chloe let out a pitchy scream with a huge grin on her face, causing George to look at my phone with wide eyes before bursting out into laughter as he saw himself and I on screen together, burrowing his head in the crook of my shoulder to cover his laugh as he watched Chloe's reaction as well.

"Well that's one way to wake up," He grinned before removing his head from my neck and also spotting the bright purple marks on my body. His eyes fell wide, giving me a surprised look as he noticed them, clearly shocked at his last night's actions as another voice was heard from the phone.

"You alright, Chloe?" A voice spoke from behind the camera. It sounded like Arthur's distinguishable voice, meaning that he had probably stayed over at Cam and Chloe's for the night. 

I watched as ArthurTV's face popped into the frame, looking confused before he spotted George and I. 

"Oh, hey guys," He smiled, having no reaction to seeing George and I in the same bed. "I stayed over at Cam and Chloe's, I guess you guys did the same."

Arthur then promptly left, leaving George, Chloe and I to laugh as Arthur's lack of realisation or just reaction to seeing George and I in the same bed. 

"What?" He asked from further away, clearly not understanding what we found so funny. "Have I not seen somethin- OH."

Clearly the realisation hit him then, as he marched back to look at Chloe's phone and double check that George and I were indeed sharing a bed.

"DID YOU GUYS SLEEP  TOGETHER?!"

We could only laugh at Arthur- George once again burrowing his head into my shoulder as he dissipated into a fit of laughter, Arthur covering his mouth in horror before also putting a hand over his eyes and walking away seemingly horror-struck.

For some reason I was left hoping I could wake up more frequently in George's arms, and it seemed George felt the same way.

----------

Hope you enjoyed reading!! Feel free to interact- whether that be a comment, vote or follow! Requests open, feel free to submit what u wanna see... Much love!!

To see more, here's my MASTERLIST

And here's my WATTPAD, with 50+ more oneshots to read

[deadmeat666]

Allennn if u write for yanderes, wyat your take on yan! akinori??? obvs smut (hhehe sorry I'm obsessed with tjis man he's sooooooo)

if ur talking about beloved babyboy akinori konoha then YESSIRRRR

warnings. reader with a scarily huge cock, yandere themes, mentions of blood and murder, scent kink, generally creepy and perverted akinori, creampie, rushed, cringe description of reader's cock somewhere 😔

Yan! Akinori, who will innocently wave when you pass by him. Think nothing of it, it will be merely nothing but just a simple act of kindness.

Yan! Akinori, once the boldness gets to him, taking your acknowledgement of him as sign to cross the line just a tiny bit for now. Coming into class, you notice your desk are littered with tiny paper pieces cut out into the shape of a heart. Albeit done roughly, you can't deny the fact you are flattered. Flattered that someone had committed their time to make this for you. If only it isn't so messy and exposed for your classmates to witness. . .

Yan! Akinori, who then realizes just how truly oblivious and dumb you are, fully jumped across the big fat line between 'just a simple innocent crush' to 'wanna have that person tied up to my bed and milk their cock 24/7' without another thought.

Yan! Akinori, who has no shame in snapping a few polaroid pictures of you. Thanks to his fair share of experience in the world of photography, he is able to get all the shots perfect, just like you! The photos range from you smiling, to you jacking off your cock in your room without a care in the world or even a sense of awareness for that matter.

Yan! Akinori, whose latest addition to his album is a close up of your smiling face, all content for whatever reason that day. Usually he would tape his photos to a wall, or maybe hide them away in his album he keeps tucked away under his bed, but this time, he does neither of those.

Yan! Akinori, who tapes the said picture to the softest pillow he could find, kissing it ever so lovingly before letting all of his pent up urges by humping and riding out his orgasm on the pillow, shamelessly moaning your name as if you are actually there, and not just a burned image on a polaroid. And as he cums, he makes sure to shoot some on your handsome face, before drawing a heart with the sticky goo to outline your face.

Yan! Akinori, with how much luck he has during that time, manages to find himself inside your arms and in a totally healthy relationship with you. Initially, people had thought about how it was so wholesome that he'd latch himself onto you like a leech, feeding off of your compliments and praise. and a hunger for the blood of his rivals.

Yan! Akinori, obsessed with your scent, he'll dig out your closet for your clothes. He had thought no matter how much you would wash your clothes, your scent will still stick and it turns him on so much. And if your closet isn't enough, the laundry basket will be his target. Dirty? No! Clothes worn by you, he will not consider them dirty, simply blessed and graced by your smell.

Yan! Akinori, who likes rubbing his face against your crotch and dick like a desperate kitten. He'd want his face to be marked with your musky odor and liquid, especially your thick semen that's so full of life. Literally.

Yan! Akinori, with nothing that could've prepared him for your massive cock. The first time he saw it erect, it was like a stiff mass sitting in-between your legs, like a beast in its slumber, threatening to rise awake and breed.

Yan! Akinori, who desperately bounces on your cock with no shame in letting out his screams of pleasure whatsoever. He will tremble and writh above you. And in every bounce he finishes in taking in the entirety of your cock, he lets out a moan just a decibel higher from the past one, continuing in an endless cycle until the inevitable climax. Let's hope his noises don't alarm the neighbours, that'll surely lead to a huge misunderstanding.

Yan! Akinori, with a strange fixation for breeding, almost every week or when he feels like it, melts into the sheet as he is taken from behind. He looks at his stomach from his position, seeing how it will bulge from every time you dig into his inside, somehow getting deeper and deeper. His fingers fidget around in hopes of wanting to find something to hold onto but his senses are basically overloaded, his nerves screaming in pain and pleasure as he willingly submits himself to you. His mouth is shut, no complaints when you shoot torrents of semen inside him whatsoever. Why would he? He'll simply be called crazy if he does.

[kaigarax]

Absolutely Dazzling

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Quote: "Fall in love with someone that's everything you're not."

“Would you die if someone told you to?” You asked, your legs wrapped around the tree branch as you hung upside down, your golden eyes meeting with Gojo’s own bright blues.

Gojo scoffed, “of course not. Why would you ask such a stupid question?”

You laugh, giving Gojo a light flick to his forehead.

If you were anyone else he would’ve swat your hand away. Actually, if you were anyone else, you likely wouldn’t have even been able to have come in contact with him at all.

“(Y/n),” Gojo pouted, “you’re so mean to me.”

You smile unapologetically, “sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“You’re right,” you hum, “I’m not.”

Gojo felt a smile pull at the corners of his lips as he looked at you. Always so playful and carefree. Imagines he might’ve been a little more like you if he had been able to be a child while growing up. Imagines he might’ve been able to make friends more easily.

“Would you die if someone told you to?” Gojo asked, his own face inches away from yours.

You smile ever so prettily, with your hair loosely hanging from your head and all the blood rushing to your head. Most wouldn’t look that pretty in a moment like this, much less this pretty when upside down. But you’re not most. You’re you - and nothing is more like you then right now as you stare at him, a strange look in your brilliant eyes as you reply with a simple, “yes.”

…

…

…

He supposes he should’ve expected such an answer from someone like you. Really though, no matter how much Gojo prepared himself he likely would always be surprised at a moment like this.

This, afterall, is what separates you from him.

What separates you from everyone else.

He wonders how you might react if he were to press his lips to yours. Wonders if you’d smile fondly or run away. If you’d act like it never happened at all. Finds himself wanting to kiss you so badly. He doesn't, of course, but he does wonder.

He thinks that you, if anyone, would probably understand him best.

That’s why he doesn’t lean forward.

---

“This is a beautiful world, ain’t it?” You asked, staring off into the distance with a wistful look on your face.

Gojo looked around, a brow raised. Sure, one could consider snow decorating the ground as a pretty sight but when paired with gray sludge and yellowish brown grass peeking through it seemed anything but. The sky was a dull grey, no sight of its usual brilliant blue - the clouds melding into one large indiscernible amalgamation. The trees are a barren brown with no bright leaves to colour their bare skin or an icy layer to protect them from the harsh gaze of others.

The streets don’t dazzle with the brightness of the streetlights above.

A shattered glass bottle sits alone in the corner of a parking lot, littering the environment.

Even the world itself seems dull. Void of colour. Lacking any semblance of personality that would separate it from something else. Does not at all match the brilliance of the painting that lined the walls back at his house. It’s almost as numb as it is boring.

Gojo turns back to look at you, your eyes glowing gold as you fondly gaze upon the world around you.

“You alright, (Y/n)?” Gojo asks, giving you an incredulous look, “get a couple screws knocked loose during that last fight?”

You ignore him, in that halfway way, as you usually do. Walking with your arms held out to either side as you balance on the curb between the sidewalk and the road humming a vaguely familiar turn that Gojo just can’t seem to name but remembers like the back of his hand. It’s no song he’s ever listened to himself but it’s one that always seems to take up a large portion of his mind when he thinks of you. It's the only song he associates solely with you.

“Hello?” Gojo takes longer strides and leans over so his head is side by side with yours, “are you listening to me, (Y/n)?”

Apart from a simple nod of the head you don’t acknowledge his presence any further.

Just enough of a reaction to keeping Gojo from bursting out in a puff of frustration.

“Guess you really did lose some of your sanity in that last fight.” Claims Gojo, loud and boisterous as he stuffs his hands in his pockets and picks up his pace so that you’re now behind him as he continues to stride forward.

You hum in acknowledgment, “I might’ve,” your voice playful and amused.

“No. You definitely have lost a couple screws.”

“Mhm.”

“Imagine what Suguru would say,” Gojo says, “he’d be even more horrified of you now then before.”

Among everyone, Gojo would say that you were the most fair when it came to showing (or rather not showing) affection towards your fellow classmates and peers. Fair, like a teacher with a class of new students. That, despite your playful attitude and happy go lucky moods, you always kept a fair distance between yourself and everyone. Except maybe for Geto Suguru who you favoured ever so slightly more than everyone else. Nothing blatantly obvious. It was, in fact, so small of a thing that the others would have called Gojo crazy if he were to bring it up. But Gojo, being ever the observant person he most definitely is, noticed. He noticed every single time.

You, ever the fair (and cruel) individual that you are, manage to keep a calm expression, “he might~” Not giving away anything in the slightest. Gojo can’t decide if that irks him more than what he thought would’ve been the slightest hint of a reaction.

The smirk playing on Gojo’s lips slowly starts to disappear at your lack of a reaction. Even the simple nods of acknowledgement are not enough to satiate him for long. Gojo wants - no want is too small a word. He craves - no, not even that word doesn't seem to fully encapsulate his present state of mind. Gojo Satoru needs attention. More specifically, he needs to constantly be the center of your attention. Refuses to be but a side thought as you walk along a curb with your arms held out like you might lose your balance at any second.

Believes he might even die if left to his own devices for even a second longer.

“(Y/n).” Gojo suddenly says, his voice louder than normal as it echoes through the empty streets.

“That’s my name.”

“Say my name.”

Your lip twitches up into a smirk ever so subtly and ever so quickly that anyone apart from Gojo would’ve missed it.

His heart flutters dramatically.

“Gojo.”

Gojo pouts, “you haven’t called me that since the Kyoto Goodwill Event.”

“Very astute of you to notice.” You tease, careful to keep your voice steady or else risk the wrath of a tantrum throwing Gojo Satoru.

You’re kind of like most people in that sense. Always so careful about what you say and how you say it while you’re around him. So astute and attuned to his moods. Not because you want to but because you have to. It’s simply a privilege given to someone like him being born strong. He doesn't like it.

Hates it, in fact.

Makes him feel so distant from everyone else.

Lonely - despite not being alone.

But it’s different when you do it. Different from how Shoko and Suguru do it too. They tease him ever so gently with soft prods and pokes at his outer shell. You, on the other hand, outright push. Sometimes doing the exact thing that would annoy him just because.

You’re cruel.

And mean.

And kind of a brat.

But maybe - just ever so slightly - he kind of likes it.

Maybe he sounds a little hypocritical and contradictory.

He feels almost normal when you poke and prod (shove) him metaphorically. Maybe it’s because you treat him like how you treat everyone else? Or perhaps it has something to do with that smile you give him that sends his stomach tumbling in a turn like it does when he gets a punch to the stomach (which doesn't happen often)? Or, just maybe, it’s because of the way your eyes seem to peer into his own. How your eyes seem to peer into everyone’s souls - as if you know something they don’t.

“(Y/n).” Gojo says, his voice flat.

“Satoru.”

And his heart skips a beat - as it always does when you say his name like that.

Gojo frowns ever so slightly, but you can’t see it, “you get lonely, don’t you?”

“I imagine we all get lonely from time to time, Satoru.”

Gojo turns around, surprised to see that you’re right behind him, your eyes peering curiously into his own as if you knew that was what he was going to do next. He has half a mind to flick your forehead gently - the other half of his mind wondering what it might be like to kiss your lips. He, of course, holds steadfast and calms his erratically beating heart, “I didn’t ask about everyone, did I?”

“So you didn’t.”

“So?”

“So…” you say it the same way he does when he’s teasing someone.

Gojo huffs, “I guess someone like you just wouldn’t understand.”

You hesitate ever so slightly.

And Gojo, being ever the conversationalist expert that he is, would of course interpret that silence as a denial of his previous claim. He wonders if everyone else would have noticed such a shift in your mood and tone. Something so subtle and acute to exactly who you are as a person. So unlike everyone else.

Everyone else, Gojo thinks, likely would have overlooked that slight moment of hesitation. Well, maybe Suguru would’ve noticed it but that’s because Suguru has always been a people person. Able to convince someone a squirrel was a mouse if he put his mind to it.

You smile ever so distantly, “it’s lonely being placed upon a pedestal that you never asked for.”

“What do you mean by that?” Gojo asks, raising his sunglasses ever so slightly in an attempt to get a better look at you. His six eyes, unfortunately, reveal only the secret to your abilities. Nothing to do with your soul or mind.

“You know what I mean.”

And he hates that he does.

…

…

…

The two of you stand in silence for a while. Just kinda staring at one another. Neither one of you is really sure of what to say next. Stuck in a stalemate of sorts. Kind of like what happens whenever the two of you spar. Simultaneously wanting both to keep the other safe while also seeing how far they can be pushed. Sometimes it almost feels like a sick obsession of some sort. A horrible need to see you bleed. He of course holds back. Feels disgusted at himself for the thought. But it’s there nonetheless.

Satrou thinks that maybe, in another life, he would’ve liked to have been born normal.

No, that’s a total lie.

He loves absolutely everything about being a sorcerer. Loves the fact that he was born the strongest in this day and age. Stands above everyone else. Receives special privileges simply because he was born the way he is. Finds almost a sick perverse pleasure showing off his strength to everyone else. He is, in every sense of the word, absolutely brilliant. That in this world there will forever be him - a line - and then everyone else. But, and he hates to admit it, only in this world.

Or maybe he doesn't hate that idea so much.

He doesn't want to be normal.

Loathes the idea that there might be a world where that’s all he is.

But… the idea did have to come from somewhere.

It’s strange. Kind of like wanting to keep everything he is while also wanting to be everything he isn’t. Never wanting to give up one thing for another. Forever torn between what he is and could be.

“Sorry, Satoru.” You say suddenly and your eyes don’t glow.

They seem almost normal as they look into his own. You seem almost human. Well, of course you seem human - you are a human after all - but in this moment Gojo could have almost called you normal despite your apology being anything but. You remind him almost of-

Oh.

So, this is everything he could have been.

Everything he is not.

Everything.

Gojo’s eyes soften, “what for?”

“For one thing,” you shrug, “or another.”

“Come on, (Y/n)!” Gojo exclaims, “why’re you apologising in such a stupid and mysterious way?”

You smile again in that way that makes Gojo’s heart flutter, “sorry.”

Gojo feels a flush rise up evident through the red tip of his ears. In a quick attempt to distract you he leans over and flicks your forehead ever so slightly. It’s a gentle kind of flick but sends lighting through his fingers as his skin comes in contact with your own.

“Yeah,” Gojo says suddenly, “this is a beautiful world.”

Fall in love with someone that’s everything you’re not.

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

First Time Footie Fan (John Price x Escort!Reader)

Part of the "Purchase Your Time" Series

Summary: Talking stage has been complete and at last you get John in his comfort zone, not where he thinks yours is, and progress is made.

Content warning: Minors DNI, 18+ only. Reader is gender neutral and a sex worker, but no smut/sex in this chapter.

First Meeting and First "Meeting" // AO3 Version // Masterlist

“Oh, I saw he’s retiring,” You pointed to a massive electric screen, somehow immune to the rain and spray of the motorway, that boasted the pride and joy of Liverpool, Jürgen Klopp, “And everyone in the city is going into mourning.”

“More like half the country,” John’s eyes briefly acknowledged the advert before zeroing back on the road, “One of the greatest football coaches ever.”

“Greater than Ted Lasso?”

“Who?”

Eager to spew about the new show you’d binged between your last meeting and now, but wanting to remain as cool as possible, you said in best attempt at a casual affect: “It’s a show about an American soccer coach becoming the coach of a British football team. All I know about football is from that show.”

John shook his head with a sarcastic chuckle, “Soccer, it’s bloody football.”

You nodded in agreement, “’Course, they call rugby ‘football’ even though-”

“They use their hands!”

“And they wear helmets and shoulder pads. Wusses.”

“You into rugby then?” John caught your eye quickly before returning it to the road ahead.

You grinned, “Not at all.”

That got you a proper laugh from deep in John’s chest, puffing out under his coat.

You stuck your hands beneath your lap, restraining the anticipation for your first proper date. Yes, you’d been for dinners and stayed at hotels together. But now you were both past the talking phase and John wasn’t like a deer in the headlights every-time he was allowed to do something that could be construed as intimate. You’d shushed his apologies for jumping straight to the bedroom – even when there was no sex – and insisted that this “partner package” he asked for meant he could treat you like an actual spouse. Besides, you wanted to engage with something he liked, and he did promise you a football match.

His black truck was parked amidst a hoard of other vehicles, half a mile from the stadium – “so we’re not stuck in traffic later”, John had said. You were ready to rumble. But, when you reached for the car handle, John touched your arm. He already had his gloves on; the moulded leather almost tricked you into thinking it was hisbare callouses.

“I got something for you.” Then he pointed to the glovebox in front of you, his keenness hidden behind a carefully constructed expression of neutrality. You popped the glovebox open to reveal a black tissue-paper parcel.

As you sat it in your lap with your hands curved around it as if to safeguard it from waddling off you, you said cheekily, “If it’s lingerie, it’s too late for me to change.”

Rolling his eyes with an air of fondness, not a sting of derision, John dodged your gaze as he corrected your assumption: “Another time, perhaps.”

Unable to hold back, you sliced through the paper. A scarf of burning red fell out in a bundle. Liverpool Football Club’s insignia sat bold on both ends with snow white frills, a proper scarf to wear to the stadium.

You freed it from the rest of the tissue paper and immediately wrapped it around your neck, “I’m like a good luck charm!”

“Certainly lucky to have you here,” John replied.

As he still had yet to let you near his lips, you leant over the centre console and kissed John’s cheek. “Thank you. Now c’mon, I wanna get food before we watch the match.” As you stepped out of the car, you allowed yourself a little smirk at the smile lines forged on John’s face from your kiss.

Brewing eagerness echoed around the concrete walls of the stadium from everyone you walked past. Faces painted, shirts as bright as your scarf, you and John appeared quite casual by comparison. Content, you jostled and edged your way to purchase your overpriced fried food before you made your way to your seat. No dainty way to eat it, the condiments spurted out the opposite side with every bite and the napkin fell apart as soon as it came into contact with the viscous foodstuffs. It was only made more awkward when you had to stand up twice to allow other fans scooch on past.

“How was work, by the way? Good?” It was all you could ask John, and it was all you could presume since he called you a week earlier than his final text had alluded to.

“Fine. Nothing we haven’t done before,” John wiped his mouth clean of ketchup, “And you?”

Now you knew how he felt being asked. Your job was hardly as normal as his.

“All normal too,” You said. There was a lull between you. Perhaps you could market that as the real domesticity he was missing out on: not so comfortable silences on a date.

But John had to be the smooth operator he was, his knees slanted slightly towards you to share a secret: “You know, I got my job at a football match.”

You perked up, “Yeah?”

“Hmm, my colleague and I met in this stadium,” And he pointed across the pitch where you could see a family holding up a banner in the stands. “That section there.”

“I’m guessing it wasn’t a coincidence.”

“How’d you guess?”

“Your secrecy levels imply there’s not such in thing in that line of work.”

John cracked a smile, “She spent the whole time calling it ‘soccer’, until I corrected her. Then we got talking and she dropped the offer five minutes later.”

“So she annoyed you into taking the bait?”

“Pretty much.”

You flattened your lips together, impressed. “She sounds cool.”

“Well, don’t tell her that, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Kick-off at quarter past eight met with a comfortable end to your conversation. You spent half the time on your feet. Players on the pitch were relentless with Liverpool constantly pinging the ball back towards their goal. Felt unfair to the other team, but you didn’t feel bad at all. In fact, the energy had transmitted into you and John. Up and down like Jack in the boxes, you felt it in your stomach’s pit each time an attempted goal missed, tapping your face in John’s arm like a door knocker with another missed opportunity.

John often let out roars in accordance with the intensity of his disappointment. He’d pat your shoulder to help recover you both as fast as the team whose scarf you wore.

But by half-time, the score was 2-0 to your new (only) favourite football team.

“I’ve got a goddamn stitch from all that!” You gasped, slumping a little in your seat. Your hands became sore with the amount you were clapping. “Is it always this nuts?”

“I will say this one is a bit of a spectacle.”

No wonder he liked it: harmless entertainment to take his mind off his job, whatever it was. It was the same reason you had binged Ted Lasso over the span of last week. You decided to link your fingers in his and squeezed tightly, and he accepted this with a kiss on your temple in return. Score. Literally. He was getting acceleratingly more comfortable with you than he had in all those restaurant floors and hotel beds.

Your hand only left his when the match was off again, rejuvenated and ready to amplify your cheers.

When Chelsea managed to get a goal in, your inch of self-control got away from you, loudly booing with everyone else. Chanting their demise and that everyone on their team’s mother was a slag no longer seemed mean. You were too invested with Liverpool’s two goal lead and were another Chelsea score away from praying to a God you weren’t sure you believed in. Once or twice, you caught John smiling at you – a cross between sly and pride over how he’d indoctrinated you into the cult of football.

At last, after a blocked attempt, the fourth goal smashed into the bottom right corner. Jumping on the spot, you used one hand on John’s bicep for balance in case your footing did not land square on the tiny section of concrete your seat granted. You almost knocked his beanie off as you joined the Mexican wave rippling around the stadium.

As the crowds started to dispel, you and John remained in your seats as you both recounted your favourite parts. John seemed a bit unawares at first, and you remembered he usually came to these alone. So you had to lead with your highlights, John chipping in with previous games he’d seen to add to your newfound interest.

Eventually, you were made to leave the stadium, with only fond memories and your scarf, without the adrenaline.Your energy levels plummeted through the ground with each metre you moved away from the pitch and your feet were complaining loudly. Crowds filtered into Premier Inns and Travelodges and car parks, you amongst them with your hand tight in John’s until you were at his car, where he held the door open for you, a task you were glad to avoid at the end of a fifteen minute walk. Radio hosts gushing about the amazing match became your lullaby while you snuggled into your scarf.

Time passed like water down a slide and it wasn’t long before John squeezed your knee. “We’re here.”

Thank god you’d already dropped your bags off at the hotel earlier. Eyes were drooping as John led you into the elevator of your hotel for the night, him letting you attach yourself to his side like a limpet while he yet again opened your door.

“Thank you,” You mumbled hoarsely, dropping onto the side of the bed you designated your own.

John caught you by the arm just before you could curl up on the bed, using it to lift and seat you, “Oh, you don’t.”

“I want to,” you whined.

A minor success was barely celebrated as John released you, only to capture your left foot and remove your shoe. It was a pair you regretted wearing and the source of that regret was revealed to John as he peeled off your sock to reveal a blister, formed from all your jubilation during the match. You winced, tempted to yank your sweaty foot from his loose grip.

“Behave,” John said as he checked the blister, your ankle trapped in his curved grip. His voice had been teasing you, just a light-hearted reproach at your attempted resistance, keeping you in a good mood, but you felt your chest full with flustered feelings that you should store away when you were more capable of dealing with it.

From his overnight bag, that you hadn’t seen him collect, he withdrew an antiseptic wipe and a small plaster, one that fit perfectly over your wound.

“You always carry plasters around?” You asked sheepishly.

“Never know when you need an emergency plaster,” John replied, smoothing it over before swapping to your other foot, “Crisis averted.”

A far-away internal dialogue reminded you that you shouldn’t find your customer picking a bit of sock fluff out of your open blister attractive. You failed to hear it over the blood flooding beneath your cheeks whilst he unwound the scarf from your neck.

“I guess it’s that cool-under-pressure quick-thinking and ready-for-anything attitude that got you poached at that match.”

“Among other things.” And John took your paired shoes over to the door.

You could appreciate that John was trying to connect with you whilst keeping sturdy those walls of his. But he couldn’t help it. His personality was a reflection of his ideology, therefore his job. He was telling you more than he wanted, and you were craving a little more each time.

From the bed, you watched him hang up his coat and beanie beside your scarf, his hair sticking up at the back on ends. An idea struck you like a slap and woke you up a little.

Knelt onto the bed, you beckoned him over as he finished removing his boots. As he sauntered over to you, he began smiling. It only grew as you drew him in to wrap your arms around his neck. His hands, guided by your incentive, found themselves behind your back.

“Thank you for today,” You whispered into the space between you.

“Of course.” There. You caught him, shamelessly looking at your lips. You took the plunge and leant in. At the final split second, John did too.

The second his lips touched yours, it stole any thoughts from your mind, as if the volume of the city was turned down. A slight tickle from his moustache, not bristly but smooth and trimmed, that was not the main reason behind your smile. It was how his paw of a hand hugged under your jaw, turning your head so that he could slot your body up against his and still slip his charming tongue into your mouth.

He pulled away first. You always let them pull away first. Rarely did you feel like you had to leave it, and this was one of those kisses you wouldn’t have minded continuing. By the rosiness on his cheeks and how loudly you could hear him taking controlled breaths, you hypothesised that he felt the same. Yet again, his gentleman-like nature getting in the way of what he wanted. Never mind, there was always more chances you could create next time to get him more into his comfort zone.

“Just wanted a goodnight kiss,” You said as you released him with an innocent smile.

John raised an eyebrow, though his lips were still smirking at you, “Oh yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.” And you bounced off the bed to get changed into your pyjamas, leaving the bathroom door open.

Your skin prickled with goosebumps each time it felt him stealing glances at you. Therefore it felt only necessary that you take a peek too. The two seconds leaning over to the ajar door confirmed what you’d felt during your nights together: a firm body that slightly softened the touch of his muscles yet without masking the power beneath it. A few scars, a trim waist and the blur of a tattoo were on show before his sleep shirt was yanked over his body. That was when you retreated back to brush your teeth and splash cold water on your face.

Even as you tucked yourself into bed, John was still pottering around. You were already halfway off to dreamland by the time he slid beneath the covers on his side. Maybe that was why you asked:

“One more?” Cherry on top, you pouted with your eyes closed up at him like you were Sleeping Beauty. A gentle chuckle and a peck upon your lips was well received and you were greeted by the lights switched off and John looking younger as he rested his head on his pillow but close to you.

“Goodnight,” He said with a sigh.

You wriggled a bit deeper into the bedclothes, smothering the butterflies in your stomach until the fluttering stopped. “Sleep well, John.”

[sleepisapriviligethatidonthave]

MegOp Week 2024

Day 1: Memory/Gift

Continuity: Generation One

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Megatron/Optimus Prime

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence,

Idiots in love, Enemies to Lovers, Established relationship, Fluff, Domestic Fluff

Summary: Optimus is being sneaky and Megatron is annoyed.

In the end, both of them get what they wanted

Also posted on: AO3

Check it out on ao3 if you want to see the Notes

Enjoy! ^^

Megatron leaned against the railing of the balcony and sighed.

It had been a rough decacycle, but luckily, it was his off shift tomorrow. If he had to listen to Starscream's screeching one more time, he would need to find himself a new SIC.

He had gotten home just in time to watch the sunset. It painted the horizon in colours that made it look ethereal. The balcony had the prefect view of the newly reconstructed parts of Iacon, which shone beautifully, a stark contrast to their still ruined counterparts. It never failed to make him proud to see the bots on the streets hard at work during the day and socialising during the night.

If Optimus was here, he would've let out one of his melancholic sighs as he tried and failed miserably at not being sentimental.

'Heh, always the fool.' Megatron thought to himself, chuckling softly. Where was his conjux anyway? He ought to have come home earlier than him. After all, he had slipped away from the last meeting for the day with some lousy excuse that he wasn't feeling well, and Megatron knew damn well that was a lie. The glitch refused to ever get sick, and it somehow always worked.

He contemplated on comming his mate, but decided against it, he wanted to catch him 'red handed' as those humans said.

Megatron huffed, he never understood Optimus' infatuation with those ugly little fleshings. They brought nothing but helmaches to them all.

It made him smirk, he could almost hear the defensive tone of his Prime as he valiantly defended the pests.

In the end he decided on reaching through their bond, feeling the emotions of his mate, which were...giddiness? What was Optimus up to?

His curiosity got the better of him

::What did you do?::

::Whatever do you mean, love?:: came the innocent sound of his lover's voice through the comm line.

::You know damn well what I mean, now spill it.:: his words held no actual malice aside from his annoyance. He was way too tired for this.

::Don't be a killjoy Megatron. You'll learn soon enough. Also, if you are hungry, don't wait for me.:: Optimus sent waves of reassurance and love through their bond, soothing Megatron's souring mood.

He chose to stop the conversation and instead wait for his mate's return. Slowly he made his way into the kitchen, taking a cube and filling it up almost to the brim, before moving to sprinkle a generous amount of tritium flakes. Hook would have his helm if he found out, but oh well, you only live once, right?

He sat himself on one of the stools around the island behind him and took out one of his personal datapads from his subspace. Might as well do something for himself.

_____________

A joor later he heard the sound of the entrance door open, inviting in a suspiciously happy Optimus Prime with a plastic bag in servo.

"Look who decided to finally show up." teased Megatron, setting down his datapad and stylus.

"I got held up, apologies for that." He made his way to Megatron and kissed his helm crest.

"I see that you listened to me for a change." Remarked Optimus and set the bag on the counter right beside Megatron's empty cube, before making his way to the energon dispenser to make one for himself.

"Do pray tell Prime, what took so much of your time?" Megatron made no move to touch the bag, instead opting for a facade of indifference.

"A few days ago, I had to go to the hospital, remember?" Megatron gave a grunt in acknowledgement, urging him to continue.

"Well, on the way there I saw the most peculiar sight," Optimus made his way back to the counter and opened the bag, pulling out a box with a silver bow tie on it, "a confectionery shop." said the Prime happily.

"When I was heading back, I made detour and went in there. The owner told me that she had set up the place not too long ago and I ended up placing an order for today." He took the lid off of the box and gave it to his mate.

Inside there were quite a few different assortments of sweets, it took all of Megatron's self control not to drool all over them.

"What's the occasion?" asked the ex-warlord suspiciously, ever the cautious one, all the while not tearing his optics away from the candy.

"No occasion, I just remembered your love for everything sweet and decided to treat you to something nice." admitted Optimus and let his field wrap around his stunned mate, letting his unspoken feelings of adoration known. "After working so hard I thought that you deserved a reward."

Megatron looked at his Prime silently, contemplating him as he hesitantly took one of the green jelly-like sweets and popped it into his moth, he almost moaned at the sickeningly sweet taste of what was apparently a magnesium flavored one.

It had been so long since he'd had the chance to indulge with such things that he couldn't help but stuff another one of the candies into his intake, this time, one with a hard outer shell and a gooey inside, that tasted like lithium infused with cobalt.

Optimus settled on the stool right beside Megatron, sipping his energon silently as he admired the sight of his mate's optics, alight up with happiness.

'I ought to do this more often.' thought Optimus to himself.

After half the contents of the box had disappeared into Megatron's tank he finally slowed down. He leaned back on his stool and let out a content sigh while he nibbled on a bismuth covered copper cake.

"Enjoying yourself?" asked Optimus as he took one of his Megatron's servos and intertwined it with his, stroking it with his thumb.

"Very much so." Admitted Megatron as he finally swallowed the remains of the treat in his servo. "Though I do wonder why you haven't touched a single one yourself."

"I didn't want to take one that you might enjoy, and besides," Optimus opened his subspace and took out another two boxes, "I brought plenty."

The way that his sparkmate's optics sparked with happiness made him feel like the luckiest mech on Cybertron. He took a few quick snapshots and saved them to a folder named 'Sparkmate: beloved'.

"Oh, how thoughtful of you." muttered Megatron, as he attacked the rest of the sweets with such viciousness, one would think they had done something to offend him.

Optimus let out a low chuckle, catching the attention of his mate whose intake was full of rust sticks. Megatron cocked a brow ridge at him, looking puzzled.

"It's nothing, I'm just reminiscing."

_____________

The first time he got a glimpse of Megatron's love for sweets had been an accident.

It had happened some time after the official end of the war, the leaders and their entourage were wrapping up a trading deal with another species on their home planet.

Prowl had advised him against going and leaving Cybertron without its leaders, but he had persisted.

The aliens themselves had been very respectful, welcoming even. They had given them accommodations that were their size and had even supplied them with decent energon.

One late night he and Megatron had stayed up, arguing over some clause of the agreement, entirely inconsequential, but Megatron had persisted that it was important.

After joors of arguing, they finally came to something resembling an agreeable compromise. While Optimus was clearing out the carelessly discarded datapads, from the corner of his optic he saw Megatron reach for one of the sweets which the aliens had so kindly gifted them with.

He stared silently at his soon to be mate as he bit into the sweet.

If he had been a less observant mech he would've missed the way his frame had relaxed a fraction and his optics hooded. It had been a surprising sight, bit not an unwelcome one.

Megatron froze in place, seemingly remembering that he was not alone in the room. Optimus made the split nanoklik decision to play dumb, "Are you ready to go? We spent way too much time on this, and I wish to retire for the night.”

Megatron gave a grunt in response, grabbed his datapads and made his way to the door, not waiting for Prime.

When he knew that he was out of audialshot Optimus couldn't help but let out a chuckle. That had been an interesting reaction. He debated silently with himself whether he should try and replicate that again, this time on purpose.

_____________

Optimus let his EM field envelop Megatron again, assuring him of the truthfulness of the statement. He only got a huff in return before the mech turned his attention back to the now almost empty box of sweets.

'Yes,' thought Optimus to himself, 'I really should do this more often.'

[sequinsmile-x]

I physically cannot stop thinking about Emily’s reaction if Jack asked her to officially adopt him and be his mom. I think she’d turn into a puddle of tears omgggg

hiii friend <3

I know this is likely a little different to what you were thinking, but I really hope you like it!

I decided to write it like this because Jack Hotchner turns 18 this month!! Which is insane. So it felt like a nice way to kind of acknowledge that <3

Please do let me know what you think! -x-

Building Blocks

A few months before his 18th birthday, Jack has an important question for Emily.

-x-

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: none!

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily sighs contentedly as she steps onto the porch of her home, the thought of an evening with her Hotchner boys, after she’d been away for almost a week, was just the balm her weary soul needed. She digs through her purse for her keys, but the door opens just as she grabs them, her fingers wrapping around the worn and faded keyring that was a photo of her, Aaron and Jack that had been taken shortly after they got together. 

She smiles as her eyes meet her husbands, the sight of him casually dressed in jeans and a polo shirt enough to undo her even after all these years. She was more in love with him today than she had been when they got married. Something about the salt and pepper flecks in his hair, in the deeper laugh lines on his face, evidence of the joy of their lives etched into his handsome face, enough to make her fall for him again and again. 

“Hi sweetheart,” he says, stepping forward to stamp a kiss against her lips as he removes her go-bag from her grasp, slinging it over his own shoulder as he pulls back. 

“Hi,” she replies as she lets him guide her into their house, his hand on her lower back, pressing into the curve of it that had seemingly been made for him, “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too,” he says, stamping a kiss against her forehead. He puts her go-bag down, idly thinking that he’d take it to the laundry room later as he does so, “Jack did too.” 

Her smile gets softer as she thinks of the teenager, the boy who was only a few months off from being a man. It was hard sometimes to think of how many years had passed by, slipping through her fingers like sand as she watched him, her son, grow up in front of her. He’d started calling her mom years ago. A slow transition from calling her Emily into the moniker that meant more to her than she’d ever care to admit. Even now it still warmed her from the inside out, made her feel happy in a way she thought she was never destined to experience. 

They’d tried to add to their family, tried to give Jack a little brother or sister, but it had never happened for them. It still made her sad sometimes, the slightly out-of-focus image of a child that was half her and half Aaron always just out of her grasp. It made her relationship with Jack, the little boy who she knows she couldn’t love more even if she had carried him herself, all the more precious to her. 

“He actually wants to talk to you about something,” Aaron says, a knowing smile on his face that makes her stomach flip. It was how he’d looked at her before he proposed, a nervous edge to it as if he’d thought she’d ever say anything other than yes. She frowns in confusion as he tucks some of her grey hair behind her ear, and it only makes his smile wider, “Come on, he’s in the living room.” 

She lets him lead her there and she leans into his side, content to let the scent of him and his endless warmth overwhelm her senses, slowly drawing her back into the comfort of their home and away from the work that left her feeling weary more than it didn’t these days. Jack jumps up from where he’s sitting on the couch when they walk in, he looks nervous, anxious in a way that makes concern start to simmer low in her gut, a shake to his smile as he walks over and hugs her as she detaches herself from her husband to hug her son.

“Hi honey,” she says, hugging him a little tighter, “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, Mom,” he replies as he pulls back, his eyes flicking to Aaron’s as they exchange a look she can’t entirely read, as if they were privy to a secret she wasn’t, “I got you a gift.”

He leans down and picks up a gift bag that had been on the ground near the couch and he passes it to her. She smiles as she takes it from him, her eyebrows furrowing as she does so.

“Thanks, sweetie,” she says as she sits down, her smile turning curious as she sees Aaron smile and nod at their son encouragingly as Jack sits down next to her and Aaron takes a seat in the nearby armchair, “What’s this for?” 

It wasn’t her birthday for a few months, and even then Jack’s was the week before hers, and their anniversary had been and gone. Aaron, and Jack to an extent, had always been big into gift-giving. Her desk both at home and in the office were covered in things Jack had made her when he was young. A pen pot that was rudely painted, a mug that leaked from the moment he handed it to her, a proud smile on his face, and countless paintings he now claimed were embarrassing when he saw them. 

“Just open it, sweetheart,” Aaron says, clearing his throat to smother a laugh when she turns to look at him, her eyes narrowed slightly. She looks back at Jack and sees the matching expression on his face and she rolls her eyes lovingly at them. 

“You two are ridiculous,” she says, shaking her head as she pulls out a double picture frame from the bag, and she smiles widely at the two photos in it. They were both of her and Jack, the first from when she’d just started dating Aaron. It was one he’d taken of the two of them on one of their many weekends at the aquarium. She’d hauled Jack onto her hip as he spoke at her about the sharks they were looking at, one of his small hands tangled in her hair and the other pointing at the tank. She was listening intently as she held him in her arms, unaware that Aaron was capturing the moment she was now looking at, frozen in time and shining up at her from behind glass. 

The other picture is much more recent. It was taken just a few weeks ago at Dave’s house, at a summer barbeque he’d thrown for everyone from the BAU’s past and present an annual event they all enjoyed. Again, Aaron had taken the picture, forcing his wife and son to stand there, their arms around each other, as he got the perfect picture. The juxtaposition of the two moments next to each other makes her ache, the passage of time far too fast for her as she looks back and forth between the two versions of her son. The little boy who had once insisted she carried him around the aquarium and the teenager who was now taller than her. 

“Oh, Jack,” she says, looking back up at him, “I love it. I’ll put it on my desk at work.” 

“Maybe you could replace one of those paintings I did in the 4th grade,” he quips, smiling when she raises an eyebrow at him. He clears his throat, his smile turning slightly nervous again, “There’s something else in the bag.”

She looks back in the bag and sees a manila envelope, she pulls it out and opens it, gentle as she removes the paperwork that was in there. She freezes as she spots the title of the form, her heart seizing in her chest as she struggles to breathe for a moment.

Petition for Adoption of Minor

Superior Court of the District of Columbia 

She was his legal guardian, she had been since she’d married Aaron, but she’d always been careful to not overstep, desperate to make sure Haley wasn’t erased, that she was still part of their lives. It was enough for Emily, and she didn’t need a piece of paper to determine whether or not Jack was her son. 

She looks up at Jack and she lets out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob, her emotions overwhelming as they hit her all at once, “Jack…”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” he says, swallowing thickly, “I spoke to Aunt Jess and Dad about it and they said it was up to me,” he explains, and she looks over at her husband, unsurprised to see the wistful look on his face, the tears shining in his eyes, “And I just kept thinking about how you’ve always been there as long as I can remember. I love my Mom, I really do, but I barely remember her,” he says, his voice cracking as he talks about Haley, about the mother he never got to really know. Her love for him clear in her sacrifice, “I remember you. You’re my Mom too,” he wipes a tear away from his cheek and she feels her own fall from her lashline, “I want to do it. I’m only a minor for another few months,” he says, shrugging one of his shoulders nonchalantly, “And I want you to be my Mom legally.”

His words hang in the air around them, laying over them like a comforting blanket, stitched together with their love for each other.

“Sweetheart?” Aaron says, his voice soft as he reaches over and places his hand on her arm. The touch brings her back to herself, her chest feeling hollowed out, nothing but love for the family she’d found in the most unlikely of places spreading through her. 

“Yes,” she chokes out, nodding as she clutches the paperwork fiercely in her hand, crumpling it together, as if she couldn’t quite believe it was real unless the paper was all but cutting into her skin, “Of course, I’d love to as long as you’re sure-”

She’s cut off as Jack throws himself at her, his arms tight around her as he hugs her fiercely, “I love you, Mom.” 

She hugs him back and turns her head to kiss his temple, something she hadn’t done since he was smaller, “I love you too.”

Jack pulls away and smiles widely at her, tears still shining in her eyes, “I’m going to go tell, Aunt Jess.” 

He’s out of the room in seconds, all of the previous nerves gone and replaced with excitement, helping him bound out of the room. Emily gives herself a moment to blow out a steady breath, her chin trembling with the force of the emotions she was feeling.

“You ok, baby?” 

She turns to look at her husband and slaps playfully at his shoulder, “You couldn’t have prepared me?” 

He chuckles, and she’s sure it should make her mad at him but it doesn’t, and he stands from the armchair to resettle next to her on the couch. He wraps his arm around her and pulls her into his side. He kisses the top of her head, his smile so wide she can feel it.

“He swore me to secrecy,” he says, kissing her again before looking down at her, “He was nervous.” 

She hums and leans in to kiss him, a quick thing stamped against his lips, “I…never expected…” 

She couldn’t put it into words, couldn’t express how she felt. Totally floored by the request from her son, and how it felt like a piece of the puzzle she hadn’t realised was missing. The answer to a question she’d never dared to ask.

“I know, sweetheart,” Aaron says, stamping a kiss to her lips again, as aware of her feelings as he always was, “I know.”

___

The adoption goes through two weeks before Jack’s 18th birthday. 

The courtroom was bustling with members of the BAU, both current and from the past, and Jess, all excited to watch as the judge declared the adoption was official. They all cheered, sharing hugs and handkerchiefs when there were inevitable tears from Penelope and JJ, and Emily thinks the last time she’d felt so intensely happy was on her wedding day, another polarising moment from her life that had happened in a different judge's chambers just down the hall. 

Dave insists on hosting a party afterwards, always happy to have an excuse to have everyone over. As the evening ticks on Emily feels herself getting slightly overwhelmed, the emotions from the day catching up with her, snapping at her heels as the party being thrown in her honour only really gets started. 

She seeks out solace in Dave’s home office, looking for a moment of peace, but her solitude doesn’t last long. There’s a soft knock on the door followed by it opening and her husband peeking around it. 

“Are you ok?” He asks, his concern clear as he steps into the room and closes the door behind him. 

“Yeah,” she replies, smiling tightly at him as she blows out a breath, “Just…I just needed a minute.”

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” He asks, and she shakes her head, reaching out a hand to him, inviting him to join her on the couch Dave kept in his office.

“Never,” she replies, smiling softly when he joins her. She immediately leans into his side, seeking out the comfort he always gave her. They sit in silence for a while, the only sound the rasp of the material of her dress as he runs his hand up and down her arm. She wipes a stray tear from her cheek and swallows thickly, making him look down at her. He hooks a finger under her chin and makes her look at him

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” He asks, wiping a stray tear from her cheek, “Today is a good day.” 

She nods, chuckling humourlessly, “I know, it’s the best day,” she says, clearing her throat in a fruitless attempt to get rid of the shake to her voice. “It’s just…I’m someone’s Mom.” 

It was something she couldn’t get her head around, something she had once told herself she’d never get. She was someone’s mother, a title that now went beyond the confines of their home, something that would be recognised by everyone. 

“Sweetheart,” Aaron says as he smiles at her and kisses her forehead before he pulls back, love for her, for their family, making tears press at the back of his eyes, “You’ve been his mom for a long time.” 

-x-

Tag list:

@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @beebeelank, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis-22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77, @alexblakegf, @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch, @emobabeyy, @victoiregranger, @stormyweatherth, @wanderingdreamer009, @ssablackbird, @luhwithah, @lex13cm, @prentiss-theorem, @dont-emily-me, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @jocyycreation, @itsmytimetoodream, @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield, @canuck-eh

Join my tag list here!

[gregorygerwitz]

in his interview oliver said "i was almost making a decision this season [...] and i think that was a side of buck that has been there for a long time and was going to lean into" he is talking about buck being bi but how would he have played that? do you think he would have just played him as being in love with eddie? i feel like just showing it with random characters would not really have worked because you do need at least some lines to suggest certain stuff (which buddie definitely has)

I mean... here's the thing.

Buck has always been bisexual.

When he was in his slut phase, he was bisexual. When he was living with Abby, he was bisexual. When he had his short lived relationship with Ali, he was bisexual. When he was with Taylor and Natalia, he was bisexual. When he and Lucy kissed, he was bisexual.

Even if there wasn't the kiss with Tommy. Even if they didn't go on dates on screen, if he didn't ask Tommy to the Madney wedding, if Eddie didn't actively witness the date over pizza, Buck is still bisexual.

This line of questioning is something that makes me so anxious and uncomfortable? Because I know what you mean, I understand exactly what you're asking. Oliver was implying showing Buck's attraction to men, and that is something that has been subtly featured throughout the show, but with s7 and the reintroduction of Tommy, it's definitely louder now - and I do love that they're actually acknowledging it.

However, even if they didn't go this route, if Buck was with yet another woman, if he ever dates a woman again, that is still a very real bisexual experience. They could have done the confirmation of his bisexuality any number of ways - acknowledging his past comments and behavior about men, even a passing mention like Buck making a comment about someone on a scene and had the team give him A Look or something, since he has apparently always checked out hot guys' asses.

When I thought I was bi, I believed it even though I was actively in a relationship, and at the time it had been my only relationship. There is such a thing as having an attraction to someone and never actually acting on it, which would be just as valid of a representation for bisexuality!

All this to say... Buck being in love with Eddie is not the only option besides Tommy and this story they're telling to showcase his sexuality. I think Oliver would have done a great job just... looking? And showing Buck's sexuality through more subtle decisions? Especially if Tim has been on board with bi!Buck, and could have written more scenes like that to showcase it without pushing for Buddie or any serious relationship, necessarily.

I think it would have been more subtle, quieter acknowledgment, if a full relationship like we've gotten this season wasn't an option.

[dropthedemiurge]

Got prompted by @pinkkop but also partially this might end up as the controversial Thai BL post because the range of characters I'd defend with the passion is very wide for me:D

8 BL BOYS I WILL THROW HANDS FOR

Uea (Bed Friend)

This show isn't jokingly called 'A Tale of 1000 Traumas' for no reason, I mean – there is only so much one young adult can go through, and Uea has been through... well, almost everything. Tagging hurt/comfort fics on AO3 will result into red triggers all around. What fascinates me in this character is his resilience, too. He managed to go through everything with the sheer will power and knowing his own worth, what he deserves and what he does not. I am so glad the show made an active choice to send him to therapy and give him a considerate and loving boyfriend! He really needs both.

Sky (Love in the Air)

Again, no surprise that everyone would want to protect Sky. The acting was also chef's kiss in this show, I know I shouldn't be but I absolutely enjoyed seeing Sky getting triggered and sent to the red-lit room in his mind because this was pure cinematography, but irl I would just hug Sky with consent and never let him go. And kick Gun until he never rises up again too. I think Rain should've been given full freedom to avenge for his best friend. But this is also why I'm writing all these skyrain fics – because they are safe space for each other and I want to keep seeing it.

Rain (Love in the Air)

Ehem, like I said– the show has not declared it loudly but he's one of the most ADHD characters in Thai BLs if I ever saw one. He does not deserve to be mocked for his struggles and airheadness. I wish we saw more of him playing into his strengths beside taming a dom, instead of being infantilized by the show sometimes. Don't ask me to dive into full analysis though, I only could watch the PayuRain half of the show once so I'm going off vibes I remember, but I absolutely adore Rain and love reading fics that focus on his ADHD headcanon and how others understand and help him. And also those platonic BDSM tendencies he has with his best friend Sky.

Kawi (Be My Favorite)

For this guy, I would not fight the show or narration because they treated both characters and viewers with care, gentleness, wise teaching and love (Max is a harsh brat but that's his personality). I would actually fight the fandom: from people who hate-watched this show and refused to acknowledge it was amazingly done further than 'i might've liked it but ew screw this actor and novel the show was inspired by amiright don't judge me for liking it jk lol' to some individuals who missed the beautifully developed and portrayed close bond (aspec on at that, I'll stay firm) that spread across >10 years and different timelines and reduced Kawi to immature whiny weirdo who's scared to fuck Pisaeng ten times a day instead of one, idk. This show is a gem with many life-lessons and Kawi has one of the strongest and fascinating character development in Thai BLs that I've seen. Hands are being thrown.

Boston (Only Friends)

The creators of the show said the series didn't have any intentional message, but considering how many long discussions and poured out frustrations we had with some people, Only Friends definitely did Boston wrong. So what if he's a proud slut, should the show punish him for it while praising 'righteous' characters high on their horses? I don't think so. My guy was constantly filmed illegally and threatened by his hookups and friends, he's very hesitant about falling in love but he tried his best with clearly spoken offers, poly views and limits. I also see Boston kinda neurodivergent and/or demiromantic based on many lines he said about himself and his own view of people and relationships in the series. Nick might not be fully compatible with him, and I would throw hands for both of them, but if those two would communicate better, there would be no need for the OOC "twist" at the end. Their story could be beautiful, sad and realistic, instead Boston being kicked down in the street dirt by everyone after opening up about his heart and fears made me angry.

Akk (The Eclipse)

These descriptions just keep getting longer and longer? Oops... I don't think I need to explain the desire to protect Akk – this guy has not stopped crying since a mischievous and passionate newbie managed to break through his 100m thick wall of composure, pokerface and sheer will to survive. And also through all the manipulation Akk faced from the people he looked up to. Akk and everything that he went through managed to rip my heart out, and I'm not kidding. If you're repressed, oppressed and/or struggling with money, desire to make your parents proud and can't help but feel 'disapproved' feelings for someone – meet Akk, he's very relatable. I'd protect him and you too.

Thua (The Eclipse)

*clears throat* I did say this post would get controversial. I can and I will consider 90% of the people who hate Thua as lacking media literacy :D But without getting into useless fandom discussions, Thua is a poor teenager that needs love and support to be able to find himself and his own voice. He's stressed out by a harsh step-father, constantly facing homophobia and mocking in school, has suicidal intentions and the only good friend who opposed homophobic students and teachers, who showed him safe space and helped reach out to his mother, encouraged him to speak out loudly... went behind everyone's back, started dating the main "bully" of the school who threatened every queer for months and decided to support him while silencing students' and Thua's voices. At least that's what Thua experienced from his POV. Would you throw hands? Thua did, and while I may not agree with how he handled the situation, I can't hate him. He finally stood up for himself and his own, tried to change the system, and I'd fight Suppalo school for him too.

Black (Not Me)

There's someone who doesn't need my protection at all! A second before turning into bloody merciless activist-fighter who doesn't shy away from murdering capitalists and cops, I would still want Black not to think he's better off alone. While antagonistic sexually-tense exchange of comas with his ex-best friend can count as one of the most delicious type of romance that happened in subtext not text, he still deserved to seek solace in his ex-girlfriend and (ex? they were so close, why Gram does not care about him at all when he returns? we'll never know) other activist friend's company. Also, fighting with his life to change something in how the country works and hearing 'nah, your twin is better, he knows how to fight with social media so we achieved more with him than with you' from his mentor and Black deciding that he should again ditch everyone he cares about...noo:( I need spin-off about him where he gets everything he really deserves.

[galwithalibrarycard]

Something that caught my eye in my rewatch last night is during the episode in the courtyard with the ‘I’ll stay until you say go’ conversation, during Ben’s speech, the famous jump cut on “You’re sort of- I’m in lo-“

That wasn’t a natural pause in speech, that was an edited jump cut! So does that mean he actually finished the sentence in the moment and only cut it out of the video?!

So, here’s how it would’ve gone. Lines from the episode in bold italic.

—-

“You’re sort of- I’m in love with you.” Ben freezes, looking down at the table.

He can’t believe he said that. He said it. Out loud! To her face!

It’s a moment that lasts what feels like a lifetime, waiting for her to respond.

Bea does a sort of weird little gasp. “Oh my-“

He cuts her off hurriedly. “You don’t have to-“

“Ben.” She takes his hand and when he looks up, by some miracle, she’s smiling. Her eyes are bright with emotion. “I do. Of course I do.”

Words are impossible for him, hearing that. He’s never been so happy- but something in his face must betray doubt or uncertainty because-

“Really.” Bea insists. “Me from a few months ago would literally drop dead at the thought of saying this, but you are the best part of my life right now. You’re everything.”

He closes his eyes and just lets her words wash over him for a moment. It’s the best thing he’s ever heard.

“Ben?” She asks, like she really doesn’t know, doesn’t understand why what she just said drug his brain to a grinding halt.

He almost wants to laugh.

“Bea.” He lets her name linger on his tongue, a blessing, as he searches for the right words. “It’s like… All it takes is one little smile, one little acknowledgement that I mean something to you, and it’s like everything just stops.”

And everything does stop.

Because she has no more words either. She just leans in, just like that, and kisses him.

(And then the episode continues from there, where they break apart smiling and pull another I don’t actually like you though and go to Stats together. She doesn’t actually say the words ‘I love you’ back, here, because she first says it in her song.)

[tvfangirladdict]

So everyone else seems to be bolstered in their Buddie hope after this episode, but am I the only one that's getting a sinking feeling instead?

On one hand, yes, the repressed catholic guilt for Eddie makes me optimistic--and was I understanding Maddie's hint about Eddie correctly or was I crazy?--but everything else read to me as ABC beginning to--maybe not solidfy Buck and Eddie as only friends, but at least pump the breaks on Buddie.

I get letting them grow and learn more about themselves in separate relationships first, but Eddie's genuine, physical attraction to Marisol? Going back to the beginning of their relationship so ABC can undo how Fox just kind of through them together like usual right before the season finale and they can actually show the development of this relationship that's existed for months now but we weren't able to see? Paralleling this with Buck and Tommy who want to get to know each other better? Buck and Eddie's shorter, more bro-style interactions vs the softer more intimate interactions we were used to seeing in Buck's kitchen? The hug and "call Tommy," was all just so quick and platonic😭.

I'm not saying they'll never go there, I'm just saying I'm not so confident that if it does happen, we'll see it confirmed in the next few years.

Anyone else know the story of Benson and Stabler on SVU? They were always partners/ best friends/ride-or-dies/more-than-friends/soulmates, but Stabler was Catholic, married and had up to 5 kids. Everyone and their mother knew those two were meant to be, but their timing just never worked out. In their first 12 years before Chris(Stabler) left the show though, they hugged like a total of 3 times, never once said "I love you" or ever crossed the line physically. Okay? You with me? And yet, there was so much chemistry and love shown between them, that they were undeniable.

Cut forward 10 years, and Stabler gets his own spinoff and is brought back into Benson's life. 22 YEARS in the making. In his first season back, his wife was killed, he told her "I love you" and this giant, unspoken thing between them was actually fucking acknowledged by their characters in the show. In one season, they advanced these twos' personal relationship more than the previous 22 years put together.

But then.... nothing happened. I mean small things here and there between the two shows, an almost kiss, them admitting they want each other. But still, three years later and they still aren't together. And now we're at 25 years, for what has to be the slowest slow burn in the history of like, everything.

All this to say, I'm really afraid that ABC and Tim Minear are only coming out swinging so hard in an effort to hook existing fans and gain their loyalty. But then, it's going to go back to doing what any other major television company does, and it's going to fall back into drawing it out as long as possible. Because yeah, the show is on season 7, but if ABC wants it to go another 7 for themselves, they can't just rush and give us what we want in the first one or two seasons, that wouldn't be a good financial strategy for them. I really don't think they'll do it that way.

ABC gave us bi Buck and they can't ever take that away, but will they trap us with that bait, and be content with making everyone halfway happy to avoid taking too many more risks so soon or ever? Yeah, I really think they're not above that.

I feel like we're already falling back into the patented responses from cast and crew that "you never know" or "anything can happen" or "nothing is set in stone", so that's not making me feel great.

Don't get me wrong, I would be so happy to admit I'm wrong if it doesn't go the way I think it will, but I don't think I can live episode-to-episode for another 7 years living off scraps of Buddie interactions and subtext😭😭 I'd rather they just go the "brother" route so I can get closure and focus on fanfiction instead. The will they/won't they and overanalyslzing every single second looking for a hint of something sexual or romantic between them will be the death of me, because at the end of the day, it'll mean whatever ABC will want it to mean😭

Most of yall probably won't even read this, but I had to get my anxiety out, lmao😅