#they are THEE one true pairing

[mincedpeaches]

I think I might end up going through a monthly mania period for grimmons for a while a la the destiel 2020-2021 moon cycle...

[heyimkana]

Beru reminds his liege that it's ✨ ovulation day ✨ | WC: 1.9K

It’s Saturday evening. The sun dips low on the horizon, smearing amber across the sky.

Sung Jinwoo, now the notable guildmaster, stretches his arms above his head, chair creaking beneath him as he glares at the endless stack of paperwork Jinho left on his desk. He’s only halfway through, but it feels like he’s already aged five years in the last two hours.

He glances at the clock. 6:13 PM. Dinner time.

Maybe I should cook something for my wife, he thinks, a devious smirk tugging at his lips. If he played his cards right tonight… he might just get dessert served in bed. With extra whipped cream. On a very naked lady.

As if summoned by the sheer scent of mischief, Beru materializes in the air like a dark, dramatic mist—a floating head the size of his palm with a pair of antennae that twitch excitedly.��

“Verily, my liege, ‘tis a most fitting eve to woo thy beloved—for lo, her womb prepareth to receive the royal seed."

Jinwoo blinks. “Are you saying she’s… ovulating?”

“Aye, my gracious king.”

“How do you even know that?”

“I keepeth watch o’er her calendar, my liege. A humble service for thy glory. We, the loyal shadows, must ensure thine efforts bear fruit. Literally.”

“Okay, that’s… disturbing. Don’t do that.”

“As you wish, O mighty spreader of seed. Yet I must protest—forsooth!—if thou delayeth tonight, another moon must pass ere the next chance to sow thine seed!”

“Stop saying sow thine seed—or anything with seed.”

“Then allow me this: It is time… for copulation!” Beru flourishes a dramatic bow, his little wings flaring behind him.

Jinwoo reciprocates with a blank stare before he rubs his temple. “The sun is still out—”

“I’ve conducted a thorough scan of her body, my liege. Fertility levels are over seventy percent.”

“I don’t have sex with my wife just to make a baby—”

“Nay, of course not! ‘Tis love thou expresseth—in the most primal of forms. With… enthusiasm.”

His master lets out a weary sigh. “If I ever get divorced, it’s gonna be because of you.”

“Nay, my liege, for love such as yours burneth eternal. Like herpes.”

At this point, he's just itching to say cancel summon. And make it last for eternity.

“We already did it last night, Beru."

"Aye, my king—thrice, to speak true. May thy lady’s limbs find swift reprieve."

"And yet, you're asking me to do it again," Jinwoo says, as if he weren’t just thinking about licking whipped cream off his wife a moment ago.

“Her arousal is also peaking at a glorious ninety percent, my liege.”

“We need a foolproof plan to seduce her." Jinwoo shuts the folder of documents with a sharp snap, eyes narrowing in deep focus. Fingers laced together, he leans forward. “Something romantic. Something... strategic.”

“As expected of thee, master. A tactician most true and wise.” Beru nods, equally solemn. “Let us craft a seduction most divine.”

“Flowers?”

“Too oft gifted. Predictable.”

“Chocolate?”

“T'would boost her lust, true—but alas, she frets about her waistline. We must surprise her, my liege. Bedazzle her with flair.”

“Something exciting, huh?” Roleplay? Edible body paint? Sex toys? Actually— “Where did I put my handcu—”

“Whatcha talking about?” His sister, Jinah, walks out from the kitchen, looking entirely too suspicious of him as she sips her mango juice.

“Nothing,” Jinwoo says quickly, slapping Beru back to the shadow realm. “Did you make your juice?”

“Yup. Not sharing.”

“Didn’t ask.” He rolls his eyes. Then, he pauses. “So, Jinah... When are you going home?”

“Dude, I just got here.”

“Right. Right.” He looks away, drumming his fingers on the desk. One second. Two. “So, when exactly?”

“Until I feel like going.” She narrows her eyes. “Why?”

Silence. He looks away.

“No, don’t tell me—”

“My wife’s ovulating.”

“Oh my God, bro.” She groans, tossing her head back, exasperated but not surprised. “Again with this? This is, like, the third time you kicked me out of the house just because you wanted to get freaky.”

“It is important,” Jinwoo gravely replies. Also shamelessly.

“You know what? Fine. But only ‘cause I want a cute niece or nephew. Hopefully they won’t look like you.” She tosses her phone into her backpack. “I’ll head down to the cafe and suffer from the stupid public wi-fi.” 

Jinah stretches out an arm toward him, waiting.

“What?”

“You’re paying for my coffee.” She slurps on her drink. “A hundred thousand won. Per hour.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Then I’ll stay.” She shrugs, plopping onto the couch with her legs on the coffee table. 

He narrows his eyes, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “Fine,” Jinwoo exhales in defeat, taking some cash out of his wallet and slapping it into her hand. “Two hours. Go.”

She extends her arm again. “Three hundred thousand.”

“What the hell, Jinah—”

“I charge emotional tax now. You’re annoying.”

He glares. She sips harder.

Beru comes out of his collar. “My liege, she doth possess the cunning of a warlock. Just give her the coin.”

Jinwoo smacks another hundred thousand into her hand. “You’re evil.”

“Oh, who cares, Oppa. You’re rich.” With a cheeky grin, Jinah swings her backpack over her shoulder. “Pleasure doing business with you~” she singsongs, bouncing on her steps as she walks out the door.

“She’s robbing me.”

“Worry not, my liege. ‘Tis for a noble cause.”

“Right. Let's go back to the plan. I’ll go simple: cook her favorite, pour some wine, massage. Set the mood.”

“Ah! Truly the Holy Trinity of seduction.”

***

Jinwoo struts into the bedroom, ready to execute Operation Seduce Wife™. 

“Jagiya,” he calls sweetly, “what do you want for din—”

He stops dead.

There, sitting in front of the vanity mirror, is the most beautiful version of her he’s ever seen (aside, perhaps, how she looked on her wedding day). His wife adjusts her earrings, graceful even in the tiniest of movements. Her makeup is flawless, both sultry and sweet, her hair swept into a high ponytail that exposes the soft line of her neck. She’s wearing the white dress—the one from the night he proposed, the one he's always itching to tear it off of her.

She takes his breath away. Literally.

“Hey, darling,” she says, catching his gaze in the mirror, smiling. “You okay?”

Jinwoo walks toward her like he’s in a trance, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “You look… incredible,” he sighs in reverence, kissing the curve of her shoulder. “Took my breath away for a second there.”

“Thank you,” she giggles, a sound that turns quickly into a delicate moan when his lips begin to leave a trail of heat on her skin, his teeth grazing her flesh as he sucks a spot on the juncture of her neck. “W-wait—Jinah’s here.”

“No, she’s not,” he captures her lobe between his lips. “Went to a cafe with Songyi.”

“But she just got here—”

“Yeah, she does that sometimes.” He breathes in her scent, his torso pressed flush against her spine. “Where are you going, looking so pretty like this?”

She stops, blinks, then frowns. “You mean, where are we going.”

Jinwoo freezes, his gaze meeting hers in the mirror. “What..?”

She takes in his expression, then she smiles. Deadly. “Sung Jinwoo.” 

Oh, no. Not the full name. “Yes..?”

She turns around to face him, still smiling, still terrifying the shit out of him. “Don’t tell me you forgot about our plans today.”

His soul leaves his body.

Beru! Beru, what plans?!

I—I am as baffled as thee, my liege. She hath not spoken of this sacred outing. I shall consult Sir Igris—

“Don’t you dare ask Beru,” she says, already reading his moves despite them communicating telepathically. “Or Igris.”

She takes a step forward. He takes a step back.

“Did you forget our date, Mr. Sung?”

“N-no,” Jinwoo lies, sweating bullets. 

“I have been spending an hour trying to make myself look perfect because you said you’re taking me somewhere special tonight. And now you’re telling me you forgot?”

“Honey, of course not.” Yes, he cannot remember anything for the life of him. “We have… plans. We’re going out.”

She places her hands on her hips. “Where?”

Think think think. “Uh… To a nice restau—” He watches her eyes darkening and searches quickly for another guess. “—Mall. To a nice shopping mall where I will buy you anything you want.” It’s bribery, but it works 99% of the time, so there it is. His ultimate weapon.

She folds her arms on her chest, intrigued. “Anything?”

“Anything. A new purse. Clothes. Jewelry. Anything my sweet girl wants.”

She narrows her eyes at him, scrutinizing for a moment. “Shoes. I want new shoes.”

“Of course, Angel,” he smiles, the shadows under his feet sighing in relief, wiping sweat from their foreheads. “And then I’ll take you to a nice sky longue for dinner and we'll spend the night slow-dancing. How’s that sound?”

Though not utterly convinced yet, she drops her glare. “Okay. Why aren’t you getting dressed yet?”

“Because—” He says smoothly, landing a cute kiss on her cheek. “I wanted to match you. You wear white, I’ll wear white. I’m a romantic like that.”

“Go.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He flees the room like a man escaping execution (he is). He closes the door behind him, breathing out, “That was close.”

“Brilliantly executed, my liege!” Beru chimes in. “A narrow escape from the guillotine!”

“I can’t believe I forgot.”

The shadow nods. “Thou hath the heart of a lion but the memory of a goldfish.”

“What?” 

“The only shadow’s true name thou remember’st is Igris.”

Jinwoo opens his mouth. Closes it. The ant has a point. 

***

A very short moment later, in what must have been a world record, the man returns—black suit, white button-down shirt, hair tousled from his hasty change. Jinwoo fixes his belt, combing his fingers through his hair. “Okay, I’m ready. Where should we—”

He finds his wife sitting on the bed, no longer wearing the dress, only a beige trench coat that wraps tightly around her body from her shoulders to her knees. She looks up at him with a Cheshire Cat’s grin.

“What?” Jinwoo blinks. “What is it?”

She attempts to bite back her giggles but fails, bursting into full laughter. “I’m sorry, honey, it was a prank.”

“A… what?”

“A TikTok trend. I couldn’t help but try. You should've seen the way you turned all pale before. It was so funny.” She stands from the bed, seduction in every step she takes, her grin now turning into a coquettish smirk. “You’re getting so much better at lying, though.” She plays with his collar, unbuttoning his shirt down to his chest, her gaze titillating. “Should I be worried?”

“That’s not funny,” he frowns. “You’re saying you almost gave me a heart attack, thinking that I forgot something important—when I always remember everything about you—and now you’re apologizing like it was noth—”

She opens her coat. Lingerie. Garter belts. Thigh-highs. Red and sinful.

Jinwoo drops the suit like it insulted his mother. “You’re forgiven.” 

He tackles her onto the bed, muffling her giggles with searing kisses that rob a moan out of her. "You're lucky I love you," he murmurs against her throat, nibbling at her skin.

She threads her fingers through his locks. "You're lucky you didn't forget the date for real."

"Marry, she speaketh true, my liege — we'd have been shorter by a head, and not just in jest."

They both stop, turning their heads to the floating head who does not seem to grasp the concept of privacy. His wife giggles. "Are you going to join us, Beru?"

"Don't even joke about it." Jinwoo leans back to stand on his knees before her, unfastening his belt. “All shadows—dismissed,” he says, his gaze roaming over her body like a predator ready to devour his prey. “I'm going to make love to my wife now.”

“Jinwoo!” She slaps his chest, laughing. 

“My liege, the shackles of passion lie within the third drawer.”

"Beru."

“I-I shall take my leave now! Fortune’s favour be ever at thy side!”

At Beru's disappearance, his wife sends him a look. "Was he talking about handcu—" She's cut off short, her wrists pinned above her head with one hand. "J-Jin?"

“I’m gonna put a baby in you tonight, Sweetheart." He smirks down at her. "I’ll make sure of it. Or at the very least," he leans down into her ear, his voice raspy and low, "I’m making sure you can’t walk for a week.”

She gulps. “L-Let’s stick with the baby.”

***

[honey-flustered]

Kinktober Day 7: Virginity

Fboy!Steve Harrington x Virgin!Chubby!Reader

Summary: Steve never paid you much attention until the day he found your laptop open with your rice purity test results on full display.

Warnings: 18+ smut, mentions of virginity loss, kissing, awkward!reader, pervy!steve, corruption/innocence kink

It’s criminal that the chemistry teacher paired you with thee Steve Harrington. King Steve. How on earth are you supposed to pay attention to the lesson when all you want to do is swim in his golden brown hair?

You sigh dreamily, chin resting on your hand as you studied him. God, he never looks your way. You’d give anything if he’d just acknowledge you. Anything.

He glances your way and you’re so taken aback that you’re scrambling to adjust your position. Seconds after, you ponder on whether you’d see him move his lips.

“Huh?” You say, snapping out of your daydreams.

He lets out a quick laugh then a lingering smile. “I asked if you could get us a beaker up front. I would get it but I’m so sore from basketball practice, you wouldn’t believe it.”

“Oh, of course. No problem. Thank you for asking me.” You say, cringing at how lame you sound once you turn away.

Steve purposefully sent you away for a chance to look over your computer screen. Today, practically everyone has been sending each other their purity tests results as some new trend amongst your peers. You knew you haven’t done much but to see how high your score was really put it into perspective that if you were olive oil, you’d be extra virgin.

You return to your seat, unaware of his snooping at first until you seen just how broadcasted your screen was.

“Y-you didn’t happen to see anything weird on my screen, d-did you?” You ask, heart racing.

“Wouldn’t say weird. More like…intriguing.” He smirks.

“Oh, god.” You groan, head resting on the lab table.

“So is it true? You a virgin?” He asks with contained excitement.

“Yeah,” You whisper, raising your head once again to meet his darkening eyes. “Is it hard to believe?”

“A little,” He ogles you, eyes traveling up and down your body. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to be between those thighs?”

You’re sooo confused. Only a minute ago, you didn’t exist to him. Now he’s unashamedly flirting with you.

Steve brings a foot under your chair, sliding you a little closer to him. He leans in to whisper, his breath tickling your sensitive throat.

“You’ve never had that cherry popped?” His smile grew wider.

“I already said yes,” Your face heats up, cupping your cheeks to hide yourself. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“You shouldn’t be ashamed at all for being a virgin. It’s a really neat thing that you’re one.” He says softly.

“Why?”

He looks around the classroom making sure no one’s eavesdropping before he whispers, “Because it means I get to be the one who claims it,” He lowers his lips to your ears. “You want that, don’t you?”

You nod.

“I’ll need a verbal ‘yes’, princess.” He demands.

“Yes, I want you to take my virginity.” You breathe out.

“Good girl. I’ll text you when to come over tonight.” He says, rubbing a hand on your upper thigh before turning to pay attention to the lesson as if nothing had ever happened.

Tonight?! So soon?

You spend the rest of your day, butterflies in your stomach as you count down the hours until you’ll be getting dicked down by King Steve.

Six hours went to four hours and four went to three until finally the hour arrived. You followed the address he’d given you, recognizing it was some old cabin home. He’s standing outside waiting in a t-shirt and gray sweatpants that hang low. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he isn’t wearing any underwear, the outline of his rather large member is damning.

You take one good glance at yourself in the mirror happy with the casual yet sexy look you were going for before you exit your car. He walks up to you, throwing his hands around you and taking in your scent.

“You smell nice.” He says, hardness pressing against your belly and your eyes widen as you try not to pass out. Steve Harrington is hugging you!

“T-thank you. I-it’s my mom’s perfume,” You mentally facepalm. “I-I mean she bought it for me but it’s not like her signature scent or anything like that. That would be weird.”

He laughs, taking your hand in his. “You’re adorable.”

You feel him tug you away, guiding you towards the front entrance of the home and your stomach lurches.

“Is this your place?” You ask with a nervous laugh, trying and failing at not sounding judgmental.

“Nah, vacation home for my uncle who lives in New York,” He explains. “Don’t worry. We’re all alone. So scream all you want to, no one’ll hear you.”

You remember the rumor going around that Steve takes his lovers to this remote cabinet specifically for this reason. You swallow the hard lump in your throat as the door closes behind you.

There’s no going back.

“Could I have something to drink?” You ask trying to keep yourself from hyperventilating. “Alcohol, preferably.”

“I want your mind clear when I’m in those guts, babe,” He helps you over to the couch, encouraging you to sit as he makes his way to the kitchen. “I can get you some water, though.”

“Kay.” You say, fiddling with your skirt. It’s now or never. You needed to put on a brave face, you will not be missing out on this Greek god’s dick. You begin to pull off your sweater, struggling with it as you hear the sound of approaching footsteps.

“What are you doing there, angel?” He asks and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh, ya know…thought I’d take this off since it’s getting all nice and hot in here.”

“I agree,” He says suggestively, placing the cup on the coffee table to help you remove your sweater. Once it pops off, you stumble a little causing him to wrap an arm around your waist to balance you. “That better?”

“Mhm.” You reply, forcing yourself to look in his eyes.

He lowers his lips to yours and kisses you. You let out a surprised gasp against his lips before you follow his lead. You can tell you’re sloppy at it because when he shoves his tongue into your mouth it’s heavenly but when you do it, it’s all slobbery.

But even when you’re doing wrong, it feels so right because he’s moaning into it and as long as he’s doing that then you’ll consider it a win. His hands cradle your head, deepening the kiss. You can hardly breathe nor do you care to, clutching onto his shirt.

When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against your head. “I usually do foreplay but I wanna feel your tight little pussy squeezing around me so badly.”

That’s the second rumor you remembered about him. He usually says that very line to whoever he fucks. Only girl to ever have been treated to foreplay was his ex, Nancy. It hurts that you get a front row seat to the truth of the rumors. I guess that’s why they say never meet your heroes or, in this case, never have a one night stand with your crush.

“Can I please?” He pleads, hazel eyes big and wet as if it physically hurts not being inside you and judging by the way he jumps and throbs in his pants you’d say it’s a possibility.

“Yes, you can fuck me. Please fuck me.” You say, kissing him once more and he whines against your lips. He loves hearing how much you need him.

Laying you on your back onto the couch, he quickly removes your clothes off your body tossing your shirt, bra, and skirt to the floor but leaving you in just your white thong. He groans at the darkened wet patch, hooking his finger underneath to pull to the side.

“Look at that pretty pussy,” He praises. “You tellin’ me no one’s had the chance to see it let alone be inside it.”

“Yeah, no one. Guess I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Fuuuck, baby, don’t talk like that or I might fill you up with my cum.” He says.

That’s another of those little rumors. He threatens to cum inside you. You should be revolted by this but you find yourself canting your hips upward in anticipation.

“You want me, babygirl? I’ll give it to you.” He pulls his sweatpants down just below his bent knees and a horse cock comes out springing and swinging.

You froze, mouth dropping. Oh hell no. You need to get out of here. The rumors do no justice at all to the sheer size of him. He’ll tear you apart!

Panic sets in as he hooks the back of your knees into the crook of his arms, positioning himself between your thick thighs.

“O-on second thought, I think I’ve found God and he tells me that maybe I shouldn’t…” You trail off when you feel his warm cock rubbing between your clothed folds. Oh, now he surely needs to be inside you. You’ll take the pain.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He asks and you whine in agreement. “Then, pull those panties to the side and let me in.”

[scudevils]

burning love — OP81

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader (slight frat au)

warnings: sexual content (no smut), swearing, oscar and reader are in denial, a lot of talking, alcohol and the consumption of (please please drink responsibly!!), daniel is thee party man because why not, not proofread!!

synopsis: all it takes is a halloween party [3.5k]

a/n: definitely not the fic i was planning on coming back with but enjoy!!

MASTERLIST

oscar and you were just friends.

no matter how many times you told people that, no matter how many times they asked, you still felt your heart tighten as you answered the same every time, "just friends" lingered on your tongue like poison.

you'd grown up together, from the same part of australia up until you'd both moved to america for college, your parents were friends, and you'd seen each other's awkward stages and subsequent glow-ups. it would've been a shock if you hadn't become friends. but that was all you were.

you and oscar were just friends.

that's what you told everyone, and most importantly that's what you had to tell yourselves.

over the years, after the notorious party boys had graduated, daniel had grown a sort of reputation for having the best parties. the idea that if you hadn't been at a DR party then had you even ever been at a party? everyone who was everyone had been invited to at least one of them, hell half of the people there weren't even invited.

his halloween parties were no different, with the addition of costumes that is. that was his only rule, you have to come dressed up.

this year had been no different to the previous, people flooded the entrance to his house, in all sorts of costumes, and you lost count of the black cats you'd seen. halloween had never been "your holiday" until coming to college, and meeting daniel, that was when you started understanding the real message of halloween, dress up in your sluttiest outfits and drink till you were blackout.

this year you'd gone as princess peach, donning a pretty baby pink dress, white gloves covering just below your elbow and a dainty crown sitting on your head.

music was bouncing off the walls of the ricciardo house, pouring out into the backyard where it seemed to be even more crowded. the rooms had been filled with people dancing, red solo cups resting in the hands of the dancers and occasionally being drunk. a beer pong table had been set up in one of daniels spare rooms, accumulating quite the crowd.

the house had been littered with halloween decorations, some cheesy ones in true daniel style, skeletons popping out as you walked past them, an abundance of pumpkins, and ghosts poking out of corners in a sad attempt to scare someone. everyone was appreciating the most important decorations, witches' cauldrons filled with whatever alcohol danniel could find, lined up in an array of colours it was a mystery to every drink you had.

there hadn't been a sober person on the property, and the least sober of them all had to be the host himself. daniel had somehow forced some of the other drunk guys into a pool tournament, the 10 of them taking the game much too seriously with the prize only being about a hundred dollars, but to broke college kids that was like winning the lottery.

amongst the pool players were charles and pierre in a team, then lando and carlos playing against the two best friends. the game had gotten the attention of more people with a large group of people now gathered around watching. oscar looked on from the sideline, either not having a partner or he'd been abandoned by them.

you took this as your opportunity to sneak into daniel’s kitchen whilst the majority of the crowd was gone. a large stack of solo cups was stacked in the corner waiting to the used, the plastic cauldrons looking nearly close to breaking with the amount of liquid in them. you took a leap of faith, filling your cup up with whatever was in the pink cauldron.

you grabbed two of the cups you filled, one with the pink and one with the orange. the instant whiff of alcohol hit you, cringing at the smell, you drank what was in the cup, tasting both of them before you ultimately settled on the pink being the best of the two, although neither you would choose again.

despite the initial taste, you'd grown to like the flavour on your walk back into the headache of a room. there were never any rules at daniel’s parties, minus the illegal stuff, and maybe that was why everyone loved them so much, people were enjoying themselves as you could see the couples in the corners of the room practically dry-humping each other. it didn't matter how much of a mess was made, by the end of the next day the house was practically spotless again.

you eventually squeezed your way through the wall of onlookers and over to the group by the pool table, your friend alex chatting away to charles as he'd already been beaten. oscar was the first to notice you, he almost always was, resting the pool cue against the side of the table as he brought you in for a side hug, conscious of the drinks in your hand. "i knew i'd seen you."

the other boys, even in their drunken state, made a point to say hi to you, alex and kika waving you over to them by the other end of the table. you passed the orange drink to oscar, muttering a quick "i'll be back in a minute" before making your way over to the girls.

"you're finally here!" kika exclaimed, giving you a quick hug before alex followed suit. all of you had been in matching costumes, you as peach, alex as daisy and kika as rosalina. you weren't sure how, but they'd both somehow gotten charles and pierre to dress up as luigi and toad. "you look hot by the way, pink is your colour."

"you're making me blush, look at you guys!"

“you know, a certain someone is dressed as mario.” alex gave you a sly look, as if she knew something that you didn’t, and you couldn’t help but grow warm with the implication, that you’d already seen his costume, choosing to ignore the coincidence and just put it as him having the last choice in the group.

“i’m leaving now.” you smiled sarcastically at them, their laughs sending you off as you watched oscar scuff his shot, the cue grazing the top of the white ball. "you've always been shit at pool."

oscar laughed at your words, not ready to deny them since he knew it was true, dimples accenting his smile. "cause you taught me." as he drank whatever the hell was in the orange drink you saw his reaction nearly the same as yours. "that's fucking disgusting."

"why do you think i gave it to you." you could tell oscar had already been drinking before you got there, his movement a little shaky as he lined up his shot, and his reluctance to get another drink instead of putting up with what you’d given him. somehow he had managed to pot a ball, jokingly giving you a 'that was for you' celebration.

a little over a cup and a half later you couldn't deny that you were already feeling buzzed, the strong drink working its way through your body as you were still watching them play pool. you jumped down from the table you were sitting on, steading your balance for a second before walking over to oscar. "i’m gonna get a drink with alex, want another?"

you really should have cut him off there, he was already in the talking complete nonsense stage, rambling something about how he wanted timtams but was outraged they didn’t have them here. but instead when he nodded yes, you got him another.

alex had grabbed your hand, practically dragging you into the kitchen before everyone else had the same idea for a top-up. "so...tell me when you'll finally get together." she grabbed another cup before filling it up with the mix of pink and blue cauldrons, she was definitely going to be sorry tomorrow for tonight's actions.

you could almost feel yourself sobering up from her words alone, surely you weren't yet drunk enough to answer that question. instead, you let your intoxicated mind take over. "when he grows a pair of balls and asks me." you took the newly filled up cups from her hands muttering a 'thank you'.

"better be soon then, i've been annoying charles about double dates for months." you couldn't help but laugh at the thought of a double date with charles and alex something you wouldn't have imagined even in your drunkest of states.

you and alex had spent another 10 or so minutes catching up with everything, no matter how many times you'd seen her the time you spent apart always seemed to have something interesting happen to the other that you both just had to share.

the moment you’d left the kitchen you could have kissed alex for choosing the best time to go, not that charles would have been very happy about it, there being a very unorganised line leading up to get a drink refill.

and yet somehow no matter how much time you were away the game of pool never seemed to be ending.

"can you both just admit you’re awful at pool and we can end this?" just as you spoke oscar completely missed his shot, barely even touching white. he glared over his shoulder at you, something you returned with a sweet smile before handing him the cup. "seriously think alex and I would do better."

oscar scoffed at your words but still handed you the pool cue and charles followed by giving his to alex. you took one last gulp of your drink, your body not even acknowledging the burning anymore and lined up the shot oscar had horribly missed. you didn't pot it, but at least, unlike him, you had actually hit the ball.

instead when alex took the shot, she’d potted with her first go, going even further by potting the next two in one shot. "told you we'd be better."

the rest of the night had truly been a blur, you had spent so much of it dancing with alex and kika and god knows who else, it all blended into one big memory, all you knew was that your body was tired and needed another drink.

at some point you had felt a somewhat familiar pair of hands on your hips, pulling you closer to whoever it was behind you. you couldn't help but melt into their touch, it felt like the right thing to do in the moment. the feeling of calloused fingers digging into the soft, warm, skin of your hips was addicting.

you tilted your head back against their neck, looking up to find oscar’s eyes staring back at you. nothing was said between the two of you, the unspoken tension was obvious, so repressed by both of you that the slightest bit of alcohol revoked all ounce of self-control the two of you had when it came to each other.

the heat rose in your cheek when you felt his hand moving further down your body, down your thighs and playing with the ends of your flimsy dress. in some way he was pulling it down for you, making sure everyone in there knew you were off limits. the crown of your head started to feel almost childish now, but his hand caught yours as you went to remove it, a kiss being placed on the inside of your wrist before he brought it down to the side of your body.

neither of you said anything, your actions speaking for themselves when you wrapped an arm around his neck. you wanted him, he wanted you. and you both had for a while.

the alcohol pulsing through your veins influenced your next move, bringing yourself flush against oscar’s chest. his hands were still on your waist, your arms still wrapped around his neck. "oscar..." his name was barely above a whisper, but it had never sounded so good coming out of anyone else's mouth.

although, like all good things are, your moment with oscar had been so rudely interrupted by a drunk lando, practically bouncing off the walls as he failed to read the situation. "hey guys daniel wanted to play-" he looked up at the two of you, having to do a double take before continuing. "uhm he wanted to never have i ever...but i'll tell him you're busy."

you could only hope that by the next morning, the headache lando would have would be enough for him to not want to remember the night before. it was awkward as soon as lando left you, quickly unwrapping your arms from around oscar’s neck and pulling yourself off him. you wanted to say something, but instead, you left him standing there, muttering to yourselves as you walked back to kika and alex.

this was the last of daniels traditions he insisted you did every year, was it childish? yes. but have you all done it since your freshman year? also yes. the communal game of 'never have i ever' which never seemed to end had just begun and you have never wished to be somewhere else than, in a drunken thought you wished the witch decorations to be real and that they could transport you anywhere else but here.

the questions had started off as basic as they alway did, the real fun ones coming just about halfway through when everyone was far too drunk to have any dignity left, but you think you’d lost yours long ago.

and of course, daniel had been the one to first ask this type of question, he had a reputation to uphold. "never have i ever...made a sex tape." he wiggled his eyebrows as he asked, with a couple of the players drank, leaving daniel looking a bit deflated. "thought i was gonna get more people."

the next question had fallen to charles, who had been getting the death glare from alex the whole time, as if to warn him not to mention anything that could be tied to her. "never have i ever had sex...in public."

you lifted the red cup to your lips, watching as other people also drank before throwing some of the alcohol back. daniel had also drunk for this round, but the person that had surprised you was oscar, his eyes meeting yours from across the room as he drank, almost tauntingly he swallowed hard.

finally, you had been next for the question, a smirk on your face as you knew someone who would be drinking for this one, and an apology you were definitely going to be making tomorrow. "never have i ever been tied up." it was now your turn to receive the glare from alex, you mock cheersing the cup towards her before both of you drank.

a couple other people had passed by, the circle getting smaller as people began leaving. just as the game was coming to an end, unfortunately for you, kika had been given the job of the last question. "never have i ever thought about someone else while having sex." the girls both looked over to you, your talk the other week someone fresh in their intoxicated minds as alex gave you a smug smile, cheersing you as you had her.

"i really hate you, you know." you let your neck fall into the crook of her neck after drinking, the couches littered with empty cups really not the most comfortable thing to sit on.

alex rested her head on top of  yours. "no you don't."

you’d been drunk many times before, lost count of the hours spent over at daniel’s, but this was definitely up there with the most drunk you have ever been. the coloured drinks were definitely hitting you now, a wave of tiredness crashing over you as you looked for a place to sleep for the night. another reason that everyone preferred daniel’s parties; the never-ending amount of sleeping space for those who wanted to stay over and if you were quick enough you got one of the guest bedrooms.

unfortunately for you, your fellow aussie had gotten to the last available room mere seconds before you. oscar had given you a smug look, or tried to his drunken smile mostly took over, he never was good at making faces other than smiles.

you chose to completely ignore him, pushing past oscar whilst he stood in the doorway and falling back against the bed. it wouldn't be the first time you and oscar had shared a room, shared a bed too, and most likely would not be the last.

the thought of taking off your makeup hadn't even crossed your mind, already getting comfortable on top on the covers to be dealing with tomorrow's problems, the dress you had on starting to become uncomfortable with the heat in the room. uou felt the dip in the mattress as oscar joined you, only underneath the covers.

"can i tell you a secret?" oscar’s body was already facing towards yours when you turned your head to look at him, nodding your head. "there's this girl."

"oscar-" his name was like a breath of air through your lips, too tired to hear any of his girl problems, and especially not after what had happened earlier.

his hand lightly traced up the side of your leg, goosebumps rising on the exposed skin. "let me talk, she has to know how i feel." your skin was on fire under his touch, the contrast with his cold hand on your thigh, fingers meeting the delicate lace of the stocking you had on. "i think she's the most beautiful girl i've ever seen, i know sorry, she's funny too, got an attitude on her."

even in the darkness of the room you could see oscar smiling at you, a smile that had butterflies swarming in your stomach and a warm blush on your cheeks, matching his own reddening cheeks you couldn’t help but find adorable. "everyone thinks she's the one for me, mum says that she has been since we were little." oscar’s hand now rested on your waist, his body inching closer towards yours as he spoke.

"and i think i agree with her," you felt his hand now cupping your cheek, leaning into his soft touch like it was almost instinctual, feeling the coolness of his hands against your hot skin. "don't you?" hip lips were just barely brushing against yours now, so close that you could feel them tauntingly graze yours as he spoke.

any attempt to regulate your breathing again had been flung out the window, the closeness of oscar mixed with the alcohol rushing through your blood had your head spinning. "i do." you could barely muster the words before pressing your lips against his, instantly being able to taste the liquor on his tongue. quick to move, you straddled his hips, deepening the kiss as his hands roamed your thighs.

he pulled you on top, already moving the sheets down to have you directly against him. “fucking perfect." his words were mumbled against your neck as he kissed down it, skin flush from the warmth in the room and the blush creeping down, knocking back your head with one of his hands to give him more access.

your fingers tangled in the soft strands of his hair as he nipped at your skin, making sure to leave marks, letting everyone know he finally made the move. his lips were back on yours, never being able to get over the feeling of finally being able to kiss you. "you have no idea how long i've wanted to do this."

"then you don't mind if i skip straight to fucking you?" your words took him back for a few seconds like his brain was short-circuiting with the soft look on your face contrasting your lewd words.

he was quick to nod his head yes. "don't think i can wait any longer.” oscar made quick work in bundling your dress above your hips, exposing your white lacy panties. you could already feel how hard he was against you, rolling your hips against him, his hands having to force you to stop the movement as he was muttering to himself under his breath. the sound of his groans engraved in your memory.

oscar teased his hand down your stomach, the dress now only covering your midriff as he pulled down the neckline, your matching white bralette poking out from underneath the baby pink fabric. he dipped his fingers under the waistband of your panties, any other man and you’d been embarrassed with how turned on you were, but you’d waited too fucking long for him to care. "fuck, how did i get so lucky." he took off the lace in one move, turning his attention back to your lips, not being able to stay away from them since he’d first kissed you.

[b00tyliciousbabe]

waves

pairing: surfer!bf x THICC!male reader

summary: oh, how i need a tall, curly headed goofball…

notes: HOPE MY LOVELIES ARE DOING WELL. trying to get through my requests, but this was a personal one of mine. slowly but surely y’all! as summer is coming to an end, it was SO necessary for me to feed my hot girl delusions at least a couple more times. also, enjoy the new style i have been experimenting with!

song rec: they. - diamonds and pearls

album rec: sabrina carpenter - short n sweet (my girl sabz ate so hard with this project, i just wish it was released in early aug so she could’ve rly CONQUERED summer 2024) THEE POP PRINCESS!

brief background:

your boyfriend was raised with a silver spoon; he’d never had to work a day in his life and everything he ever wanted, he got. well, everything except you. throwing money to impress people had worked on all of his other childhood crushes, but not you, which made him all the more determined to prove to you he wasn’t just some fuck boi the media painted him out to be. his family owned the richest resort in the carribean, and had hotels in every mega city worldwide. but wherever they travelled to, your man was never too far from a beach. call it fate, but the sea would always lead you back to him. it was where he first laid eyes on you; reading a very lengthy novel as you laid on the sand, watching your friends play in the water. after their surf practice, your mutual friends introduced the two of you and you were SMITTEN - but you couldn’t show your interest too soon. he too was whipped, and didn’t take nearly as much effort to hide it, practically drooling whilst staring at you. his mates would constantly ridicule him for his dazed expression around you, and he could never hear the end of the new nickname ‘bambi boy’ you gave him because he looked so cute when he was flustered. after weeks of regular conversation and a couple walks on the beach, he officially asked to be your boyfriend and you said yes.

when it came to finally introducing you to his family, they loved you almost as much as he did. he was the youngest of six and so he got the privilege of this. his parents especially were wishing y’all would stay together. they believed you were the perfect match for their goofball of a son.

core memory sfw:

the first time he said ‘i love you’ with TRUE meaning; you were always worried that you were just one fuck away from being forgotten, but your man made sure to constantly affirm his love for you. he brought you the biggest bouquet of your favourite flowers, and stood outside in the pouring rain, playing a mixtape he’d made for you. it was genuinely a scene out of a film, he was your knight in shining armour (a hawaiian shirt and matching shorts) and it was then that you knew that you guys were endgame.

core memory nsfw:

to say your bf loves your body is an understatement. the way he’s hooked on your body, some might say it’s borderline unhealthy. he’s so handy and keeps his hands on your ass all the time. whether it’s a spank, watching it jiggle as you walk away from him, or a full on grip as his pulls you onto his dick, he’s a man that would gladly die between your cheeks. one time during dinner you wore a wrap skirt paired with a tank top, paired with a thong that was peeping out enough to make your man’s eyes pop out of his head like a cartoon character. as his jaw dropped, practically salivating at the sight of your body moving closer to him, you picked it up and giggled, stroking his chin endearingly. for the entire meal he was practically sat right next to you, breathing in your luscious skin. ‘boy, you better calm down, we have company.’ you giggled. ‘fuck bby, how can you say that when you look good enough for me to eat?’ he whispered into your ear, trying not to bring too much attention. before you knew it you were face down, ass up and your thong was pulled to the side, as he used it as a pseudo leash keeping your pussy bouncing on his cock.

your favourite thing about him: his oddball nature.

as much as it can annoy you that he’s always cracking jokes, leaving no room for respite, your bf never fails to bring joy to your life. as the life of the party he’s always bringing that much needed energy to the dull world of his mostly corporate family. whether it be seeing you hollering at some unhinged thing he’d said, or watching him (ironically) fuck the smile onto your lips, you can tell that comedy is who he is, and you wouldn’t change your weirdo for anything.

his favourite thing about you: how artistic you are.

almost impossibly, it makes your boyfriend fall in love with you even more seeing your creativity flourish. you’re always making him jewellery out of the shells and stones you find. he loves to wear them, it gets you going when you see the necklace you made for him swing back and forth as he fucks into you. or when you feel the cold of his rings and bracelet on your waist as he holds you in position to fuck you even harder. he’s so proud of you.

his insta post: mostly just him showing off his good looks (we love a cocky man around here) and his beach flix.

surfer!bf my face is his favourite seat.

y/n: that big dick is a very close second though.

tinashe replied: @y/n, you a nasty girl fr.

sabrinacarpenter replied: @y/n girl, need you on that bed chem remix. about to do some damage…in a good way x

your insta post: almost always pictures of your creations; you like to keep your relationship with him private, that’s YOUR man, and you can get very possessive.

y/n feel free to add to your pinterest boards.

surfer!bf: baby you’re so talented 🩵

viviennewestwood: so excited to see your next collection!

surfer!bf: i love you.

y/n replied: @surfer!bf aw, i love you too babes!

plans for the future!

being with one of the greatest surfers in the world, definitely came with some amazing perks.

marriage:

oh, he’s 100% thought about it, and would definitely be the one to propose. the free spirit in him doesn’t need a piece of paper to prove that he loves you, truly. But would totally be your husband if you let him x

children:

your surfer!bf ABSOLUTELY WANTS TO HAVE A FAMILY WITH YOU! sees himself as the best father and y’all would have the cutest kids ever.

tag list:

@gayaristocrat

@multireese

@malereadermaniac

@lysanderplume

@ghostking4m

[justanothermemestrider]

"That's My Girl" - Jago Sevetarion x F! Reader

Ask thee and ye shall receive. Here's a fic based on the sparring headcanon from my Sevetar Assorted Headcanons. The sypnosis: Sev takes you down to the training mat to help you train some sword craft, and things get... spicy

Hope yall ready for some heresy.

CW: NSFW, MDNI

Apologies for grammar and spelling mistakes. Please enjoy!

"I really don't see why this is necessary."

"Really?" Jago asks. "Sweetheart, have you seen what the people on this ship are like?"

"Well yeah, sure," you say. "But I've got you. And if you're not around, Talos and Cyrion always look out for me."

Jago clicks his tongue, twirling the wooden swords he's currently holding in both hands as he considers your words. "That is true," he admits. "But even then, there is always the chance- no matter how small- that you may be caught out alone on this ship." He offers you one of the swords with a smile. "As such, you need to prepared."

You give him a long, unamused look, eyes shifting between his proferred wooden sword and wry, lopsided smile. The skin of his face is a mess of scars and callouses, but underneath all of that is a strong, almost handsome visage with broad cheek bones and a square jaw. His hair is slicked back save for a handful of thin bangs that tumble over his forehead to frame his eyes and nose. Jago's smile broadens into a grin. "Come on, little bird," he says. "If not for you, then for me?"

You let out a sigh. Without a word, you take the sword from his hand.

"Atta girl," Jago chuckles. He steps away from you, then surprises you by sheathing his sword. His grin suddenly turns feral. Before you can ask, he unclasps the front of his tunic and lets it drop to the floor. His torso, like his face, is ravished by scars, though these are far larger and more vicious looking. Bolter holes, chain blade slashes, stab wounds and burn marks; Jago wears the marks of all of these and even more. Black neural ports run down his shoulders and chest, contrasting sharply with his pale skin. But, just like his face, his scars and cybernetics do little to detract from the beauty of the body beneath them. You can't help but take a moment to drink in the sight of him; the twistedly gorgeous demi-god you call lover and protector. At your staring, Jago chuckles. "You may remain robed if you wish," he says. "But among Astartes, it is tradition to spar as... unencumbered as possible."

"Oh really?" you ask, clearly unconvinced.

Jago laughs again. "Eyes up, little bird," he orders. "Raise your blade. We begin now."

Unable to keep the grin off your face, you does as he commands.

"You remember what I've taught you?" he asks.

You give your sword a cursory twirl. "Of course I do." As if to emphasise the point, you hold it out in front of you in a defensive stance.

Jago gives you a satisfied smirk. "Guess we'll find out soon enough, won't we?" With that, the Night Lord lunges.

You slip to the side, parrying with your sword. The wooden blades crack against each other like bone, and the force of the impact sends painful vibrations rocketing up your arms. Grunting, you take several, darting steps back, but Jago refuses to give you any such breathing room. Several more time, your training blades clash. You know Jago is holding back; he has to, for if he didn't, his first strike would've likely snapped your arms in half. But even with his abilities actively reduced from demi-god levels, he's still faster and stronger than any baseline human could dream of being. Already, your breathing hard. Sweat pouring down your brow as your heart pounds relentlessly. Jago, on the other hand, has barely broken a sweat.

"Don't be shy, little bird," he says the next time the pair of you disengage. "You can't defend forever."

Between heavy breathes, you scowl at him. "Easy for you to say, Son of The Night Haunter, you."

Jago flashes that wry, crooked smile of his from the other side of the training mat. "No warrior is perfect," he says. "Even Astartes have certain aspects that can be exploited."

"Such as?"

"Just look at me, sweetheart. Two metres tall and half a tonne in weight, all of that being bloated muscle and reinforced bone." Jago holds his arms out wide. "What does that make me?"

"I don't know," you huff. "Strong?"

"Nope," says Jago

"Unbeatable?"

"Hah! I wish."

"Sexy?"

Jago laughs. "You flatter me, little bird. But no. Not the answer I am looking for."

"What then?"

The night lord sighs in mock exasperation. "It make me big," he says. "It makes me heavy. And no matter how fast or strong I am, it makes me very much at the mercy of physics and biomechanics. But you-" he points at you with his sword. "-my love, you are not so much. You are lighter. Your body, more flexible and maneuverable. Therefore, such natural laws are far more lenient on you than I. You understand?"

After taking a moment to think, you believe that you do. You tell Jago as much.

"I knew you would." Lowering his sword, Jago bares his teeth in a grin. "Now. Prove it to me."

Raising your sword, you approach him at a slink. Stepping on the balls of your feet, wooden blade out and pointed at his chest. Jago flurries his own weapon. Ripples of tension feather through the muscles of his chest and abdomen. He holds his sword low, clearly trusting himself to be fast enough to raise it should you choose to attack. But it is that very reflex that you intend to exploit.

With the technique of a fencer, you thrust at Jago's throat. Just as you'd guessed, he brings his sword up and around to block. But the moment you see his arm move, your strike turns into a feint. Ducking underneath his arm, you lock your blade around his shoulder and launch a savage kick into his knee. In the same moment, you wrench hard with your arms, turning your wooden sword into a lever over which you toss Jago to the ground. Of course, such a throw would never work in a true one-on-one fight with an Astartes. But against another baseline? Absolutely, it would. And, since he is currently moonlighting as such, Jago lets you take him down. The mat shakes as his body hits the ground. Before he can move to get up, you leap on top of him. Straddling his waist and bracing the edge of your mock sword against his throat. Your arms tremble from exertion, lungs burning as you breath hard and fast through your mouth. But as exhausted as you are there's a smile on your face. When Jago locks eyes with you, it only grows broader.

"That's my girl," he says, his adam's apple bobbing against your blade as he speaks.

In spite of yourself, his praise makes you giggle. "Does that mean I win?" you ask.

"Almost," Jago says. "But you've forgotten one very important thing."

You raise an eyebrow. "That being?"

Between your legs, you feel the rise and fall of his belly as he breathes in and out. You also feel him bending his knees and planting his feet on the floor. "When your opponent is so much larger than you..." Jago trails off. Then, quick as a snake, he grabs your sword with one hand and seizes your arm in the other. Bridging his hips, he throws you off him, sending you sprawling onto the mat. You yelp in surprise as Jago reverses your mount and straddles your hips. His weight is immense; your pelvis feels like it's being crushed beneath an anvil, while your legs and hips are completely and utterly pinned. Jago leans over you, grabbing your sword hand by the wrist while bracing his own sword hand on the floor right beside your ear. Lips peeling back into a predatory smile, he finishes his earlier warning. "...You must never take them to the ground."

Any outward observer would expect you be terrified, but in truth, you only feel flustered. Even after all this time, being this close to him- face millimetres from yours, naked, muscular body pressing against your own- still has your stomach winding itself into knots. And from the bulging hardness you can feel pressing against your lower belly, Jago is feeling the same way.

"This had nothing to do with training me, did it?" you whisper.

"Of course it did," Jago replies. "Your safety is the single most important thing to me. You know that."

"Fine. But it wasn't the only reason you brought me here, was it?"

For the briefiest of moments, Jago's smile turns sheepish. "Alright. You may have me there." Leaning closer still, he touches his forehead to yours. "You know how much I love a woman who can kick my ass."

You reply by kissing him. Tilting your head back so as to give you access to his lips, then locking them within yours with rough and enboldened hunger. Jago immediately returns it in kind. He drops his sword and releases your wrist, scooping one hand up underneath your waist while gripping you jaw with the other. Like pieces of a puzzle, your bodies fall into place around each other. Your legs wrapping tight around Jago's waist as he pulls you closer still. The heat between your legs presses the hardness between his, and even through the fabric of your clothes, the friction is enough to make you whine. The sound elicits a growl from Jago. You feel the hand at your jaw release, then slide down your front until it reaches the waistband of your trousers. He drags them off you, followed by your underwear. You gasp when the cold air kisses your exposed sex. But quickly, the sound devolves into a moan as Jago presses his fingers into your clit. Electricity bolts through your body. The heat in your core swells into an aching throb. You feel yourself growing wetter, hotter, more desperate and breathless. You claw your fingernails into Jago's back and let out another pleading moan.

"Jago..."

"I know, sweetheart," he rumbles. "But I've gotta slick you up first; don't want to hurt you."

You reply by bringing your hands up to his shoulder blades and digging your fingers into the neural ports embedded in the muscles there.

An involuntary shudder rips through Jago's entire body. His limbs buckle, sending him sprawling flat against your front. The sound that falls from his lips can only be described as a whimper.

"Oh, I see," he growls once he recovers. "And here I was thinking you liked me best when I was nice."

"Most of the time," you answer. "But not today."

Jago bares his teeth in a smile that's both affectionate and utterly lusting. "As you wish, little bird. But don't say I didn't warn you."

You open your mouth to reply, but before the words can reach your voice, Jago locks his hand around your throat. He unclasps his breeches, finally freeing his hard, aching cock. He lines his hips with up with yours, and with a single, savage thrust, drives himself all the way inside of you.

A cry bursts from your lips. You feel yourself stretching to accommodate his length, but even then, the fit is impossibly tight. Jago moans into your ear. The hand around your throat tightens. Without skipping a beat, he starts moving. Thrusting his hips hard, filling you up, pinning your clit against his public bone and rubbing it to the point of pain. Sparks and black spots burst within your vision. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull. Every one of your exhales is a whimper or a moan. Ecstasy doesn't come close to describing this feeling. This raw and primal pleasure that's got your every nerve in a chokehold. Meanwhile, Jago growls and snarls like a beast in rut. His breathing is loud and laboured, his every muscle bulging against his sweat-slick skin. The hand he hasn't got around your neck is pressed hard into your lower belly, forcing his cock deeper and deeper still.

The coil in your belly reaches critical mass. You can feel your orgasm coming, just on the horizon, but not quite there yet. There's no way in hell you could string together a sentence, so instead, you say his name. Once again finding Jago's shoulderblades with your fingers and clawing them into his neural ports.

"Jago... Jago..."

Jago's body shudders again, and a long, almost pained whine interrupts his snarling growls. On his next thrust, he rears up onto his knees, scooping up your leg with one hand and throwing it over his shoulder. The sparks in your eyes become stars. The coil in your belly becomes agonisingly tight. Your spine arches until it's not longer touching the ground and you let out another, desperate cry.

It's then that Jago decides to say something. The words are whispered in your ear, barely comprehensible amidst his growls and moans. But they're there. And they are what finally send you over the edge.

"That's my girl."

Orgasm grips you like a lightning strike. You throw your head back as a scream of ecstasy erupts from your throat. Every muscle in your body clenches and your walls squeeze Jago so tight it makes his voice crack. His rhythm suddenly falters. He releases your throat to claw his hand into the floor. With a throat-tearing roar, Jago finally hits his release, burying his face into your shoulder and pumping you full of his hot, thick seed. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you entangle your fingers in his hair, holding him close as you both ride out your orgasms.

When yours finally fades, you collapse against the floor. You still have the energy to gasp at the feel of Jago pulling out, but aside from that, you're completely and utterly spent. Means when Jago rolls you onto your side and drags you into his body, you simply let him. Both of his hearts are beating hard; you can feel their twin pulses pounding against your ear. He doesn't simply hold you, either, but rather he's actively pulling you close. Pressing you hard against his chest and wrapping his arms around you tight as if he were trying to shelter you or keep you from being dragged away. His grip is crushing. His skin and hair both slick with sweat. Gently, you reach a hand up to his face and brush your fingers against his cheek. "Careful," you says softly. "Squeeze me any tighter and you might just break something."

You hear his breath hitch. Slowly, the pressure around your waist and shoulders diminishes. "Sorry," Jago mutters. The extra gravel in his voice confirms what you'd suspected from his pulse, that he's still coming down from his high.

Tilting your head up a little, you press your lips to his collarbone, then nuzzle your face into his chest. "It's okay. I forgive you. This time, at least."

Jago smirks, but says nothing. After a handful of quiet moments, you hear his heart rates finally begin to settle. His breathing deepens, then levels out and the residual tension in his body releases.

You choose that moment to caress his scarred cheek again. "I love you," you whisper.

His chest vibrates against your ear as he chuckles softly. "By the Warp. I don't think I'll ever get used to hearing that."

"Do you doubt me?" you ask playfully.

"What? No! Of course not."

"You do not feel the same, then?"

That actually makes him growl. "Of course I do." The grip around your waist and shoulders tightens. "You know that."

You reassure him with another kiss to his collar bone. "So, why, then?"

"Why?" Another rumbling laugh. "Sweetheart. Look at me. Recall who I am and what I've done."

Retracting your hand, you start tracing one of the dozens of scars running down his chest with your finger. "I see Jago Sevetarion," you say. "The man who cares for me and protects me." You let your head fall against him, eyes slipping shut. "I see the man I love."

Your earnestness seems to take him by surprise, for he does not reply nor react right away. He doesn't seem to know how to. All he can think to do is pull you closer still and bury his face into the crook of your neck.

Sorry if I've missed you. If I have or you wanna be added, please let me know :)

Taglist: @yanagikou @nereidof40k @yurihasurunbara @beckyninja @moodymisty @wolf-feathers12 @justfreakynothingelse @egrets-not-regrets

[pyeongstarr]

˚.⋆⁺₊✧ Jet-Set Homemaker — 최종호

⋆˙⟡ pairing/s: businessman!jongho x housewife!reader

⋆˙⟡ in which: jongho comes back home from work sooner than usual, so what he sees when walking into your shared bedroom isn't something he thought his wife was capable of.

⋆˙⟡ genre/s: smut

⋆˙⟡ warnings: masturbation (he "helps" her masturbate ???), overstimulation, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, use of toy.

⋆˙⟡ word count: 1.4k

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။|||| | megan thee stallion // down stairs dj

Tucked away in an affluent neighbourhood, where every building reached for the sky, much like the aspirations and ambitions of those who occupied the spaces, was a married couple that had been together for 15 years. The absolute embodiment of unimaginable opulence, one you could not buy your way into. It was a birthright. While the husbands went away to conquer and monopolise the world’s economy, the wives remained to run their households and enjoyed the spoils brought home by the men. From morning pilates to organising evening galas, they were not short of any hobbies to keep them entertained for the time being.

Except one.

y/n Choi.

Her favourite hobby was not out there in the world. It was right here, within the confines of her own 2-storey penthouse. The sanctity of the bedroom she shared with her beloved husband, who was incognisant of the happenings that took place in his absence. An afternoon ritual that unfolded almost every single day of the week.

The doors to the elevator opened, welcoming Jongho back home from work. He put down the bouquet of pink carnations on the kitchen counter, then removed his jacket, leaving it on a stool. The entire first floor was a lot more silent than usual. His wife was nowhere to be found. He thought nothing much of it, seeing that he’d clocked out from work earlier than usual, simply assuming that she had gone to her weekly spin class. He poured himself a glass of water and downed it in a single gulp. The home was quite pedantic without the bickering of their 5-year-old twin son and daughter nor y/n’s constant reprimanding. With nothing to do but either watch television or stare at their extensive collection of art pieces, he decided to go get changed and head over to the local golf club.

As he walked up the stairs, faint whimpering wafted through the air. Confused, he wondered who it could have been. Maybe y/n was indeed home, but with whom? A sudden wave of worry blanketed him. Had he faltered along the way that his wife decided to seek companionship elsewhere? Every possible thought of infidelity ran rampant in his mind as he speedwalked to their bedroom. The closer his feet led him to the room, the more ostentatious her cries became. It was a sickening thing to hear. He put his ear to the door, listening in to make certain that his ears weren’t deceiving him, fooling him into believing his worst fears had come true. That his only love had sought comfort elsewhere. His heart felt as though it were about to explode out of his chest.

“J-Jongho…” Her voice recited with definitive concupiscence.

The anger that had taken hold of him begun to melt away upon hearing his own name. Was she alone? He pushed the door open, peeking into the room. Body covered with a red silk robe that lazily hung off her shoulder. Her back was turned to the door, body facing the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the city skyline, with the curtains open. A natural glow shone on her. Head thrown back, one hand behind her back for support and the other moving back and forth between her thighs. Legs spread open as a slew of praises fell from her lips, emblazoning her husband’s name. Amidst the moaning, the sound of vibrations did not evade him. He sauntered into the room. The situation growing more lucid as he realised that his darling wife was in fact pleasuring herself to... the thought of him.

When he circled around the bed to where she faced, her feet fell to the floor and put both her hands behind her back. Chest heaving as she gathered her composure. She saw something move in her peripheral. Her heart skipped a beat but upon locking eyes with her husband, she relaxed, unmoving in her position on the bed. The entirety of her front side was exposed, breasts out in the world. Neck embellished with a layered moissanite necklace. Sunlight danced on the precious stones that adorned her wrists and hands. Bejewelled like royalty. Every colour of the rainbow refracted off of the surfaces. A dopey, gratified smile played on her lips as she watched her husband loom over her, the look in his eyes giving away his unmistakable curiosity.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Jongho suggested, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

“I already got what I wanted, baby,” She answered, challenging his gaze.

He held out his hand, “Hand it over,” he demanded. She immediately obliged, watched as he maneuvered the device. He loosened his tie, and with one arm on the bed and the other tracing along her inner thigh, he whispered into her ear, “Is this what you do whenever I’m not home?”

The live vibrator ran around her folds, she threw her head back. She hissed, still sensitive from before. The vibrations tickled her throbbing bud. One arm snaked over his broad shoulders, the other hand entwined with his as he teased near her entrance.

“I get s-so bored... without y-you,” Breathlessly, she admitted to her sins.

He increased the intensity, grazing over her raw bud. Beads of sweat danced on her skin as they challenged the moissanite for the spotlight. His lips left a trail of soft pecks along her bare neck and shoulder, a tang of sweat lingered on his tongue. Frail cries hounded the silence of the tomb-like sleeping quarters. Every one of his grunts that fell onto her ears, fueled her to hold on just a little longer. She was already beat from before, but his audible approbations encouraged her endurance.

“Oh, Jjong-bear... Right there, just like that...” She acclaimed when the vibrator met her nub.

She rubbed the nape of his neck with her perfectly manicured fingertips. Her tell. She was nearing. Just as he felt the rubbing become aggressive, he switched off the vibrator and pushed her back on the bed. A long-strung harangue promptly followed, displeased with the sudden stop. As she sat up with one hand travelling to her raring nub, in an attempt to chase a high that was escaping her, Jongho got down to his knees. He shouldered her legs as he buried his face in her core, nose brushing her aching bud as his tongue lapped up every ounce of her juices.

“My sweet, sweet Jjong-bear,” Words exuding clear-cut lechery fell from her lips. “God... I love and breathe you, sweetheart...”

He hummed against her sopping core, the vibrations making her back arch. The grip he had on her thighs was merciless, knuckles bright white, nails digging into her skin. She leaned back for a better view, and buried her hand in his sable locks, singing praises of the highest order. She felt his tongue vigorously flick her nub, making her lurch forward as she yelped. The taut constriction in his slacks was growing unbearable as it pressed against the fabric, grazing and teasing the tip. Here and there, beads of cum would escape and smear all over. The warmth of the sun paired with the heavy clothing he wore made the room near-impossible to breathe in. Not to mention his entire face buried between her soft thighs...

An honourable way for a man to die.

Her chest heaved, breathing hitched and tottering, and a tight sensation in her stomach materialised. She was cresting. Just there, teetering. Her fingers toiled with his nape, head thrown back as flaxen beams seared into her bare chest. His slurping was deafening. The moisture between her thighs was agitating. She squirmed and whimpered, begging him to stop, but nothing came of it. Except herself. The pressure in her stomach eased when she felt herself clamp around nothing. Jongho drank her all up as she laid back, body spasming.

He rose to his feet, watched as his wife curled up and rode out her orgasm. The most intoxicated grin spread across her face. No substance could rival the unadulterated high that came with the intimacy they shared.

“This is my day, everyday,” She swooned, hands laying on her stomach as the sun casted a gentle spotlight on her nude self. “Just me, my vibrator and your name in the air. Oh, Jjong-bear...”

“Kinda jealous of the vibrator,” He grumbled, licking her residue off of his lips. “Came home early so I could take you to lunch.”

“Mmm... I’d rather get naughty instead,” She quipped, sitting up from the bed as she cocked her head upward to meet his eyes.

“And you’re sure about that?” Eyebrow raised, warning her of what would to happen if she agreed.

She wrapped his tie around her hand, tugging gently as she guided him towards the bed. Jokingly, she responded, “Rawr,” both bursting into fits of giggles.

.

.

.

taglist babies:

@suluhwa

[absolutebl]

GMMTV 2025 Line Up - My Totally Biased and Wildly Flawed Feels

This is the point where I remind you that GMMTV announced 16 BLs for 2024 and didn't actually release 4 of them in 2024: My Golden Blood, Ossan‘s Love, Sweet Tooth Good Dentist, and The Ex-Morning.

So despite the fact that these are from GMMTV 2025 line up, some of them will not happen until 2026, and some could get dropped entirely or have cast changes.

I'm not including the GLs, grab bags, or possible bromances. Confirmed full-tilt gay af only.

In order of ones I'm most excited about.

Dare You to Death

trailer

JoongDunk as police investigators in a mystery suspense thriller. Yes, I'm in. This is it. This it the one I wanted to instantly watch. Even though their's 20 BLs airing right now.

This is the only trailer I immediately rewatched.

Boys in Love

trailer

Our only true high school BL from GMMTV and it's fresh faces for the youths and old favs for the teachers. It's milk teeth Make it Right and that is perfectly fine with me! I like lotte milk. Also DIMPLES! Yay! I suspect they're using this one to test some new pairs for future seasons. Like a Project 101 Thai BL. (Honestly I just invented an amazing reality TV for you GMMTV, you're welcome.)

Like My School President was in 2023, this could be a major 2025 sleeper hit for me.

Memoir of Rati

trailer

Sing the praise song with me BLabies! GreatInn in a HISTORICAL with a class divide and everyone's favourite side couple! Be still my heart! I'm beyond pleased. (Also I got my boat in a lotus pond at last.) My only concern is this could end sad, it's in the title after all.

This is the only trailer that gave me chills.

My Magic Prophecy

trailer

Paranormal mystery with a fortune teller and a doctor. I'm in. I hope the script doesn't fail JimmySea again, they are such a great pair. I'm intrigued by this one but it felt the most formless of all the trailers, so I'm thinking we could see some significant tweaks.

Me and Thee

trailer

A photographer gets involved with the mafia? OMG is this a Thai dupe for Target the Finder? Only mixed with Cyrano? WILD. I mean to say, this one is wild WILD! Plus Est (my love) back in suits and ear dongles I see. Also GMMTV never gonna let us forget they bagged two of BL's best bods with PP, thanks all for the visuals.

Of course this is for me. I'm the shallowest, remember? Plus I love a BL that's just a little bit...... well...... stupid.

A Dog and A Plane

trailer

A prissy gay flight attendant in a push-pull relationship with an EMT dude-bro. Characters are a bit throwback to PeteKao (no bad thing) not to mention the looming shadow of What the Duck? (bad thing). But the side couple is the always appealing MarcPoon.

Okay GMMTV, surprise me, I'm game. And you know TayNew are my OG GMMTV pair du jour.

Cat for Cash

trailer

Finally something fluffy with a pair I like. Looks cute. I like cute. Yay for me! Adorable gay boys and cats.

This one is basically made to be a tumblr comfort meme meets thirst trap. I see what you're doing GMMTV and I applaud you. Carry on.

That Summer

trailer

The only side pair to seriously level up. Okay so amnesia is my least favourite trope, and I tend to not be wild about secret identity either, but I like both pairs in this one, so I'll watch.

My Romance Scammer

trailer

New couple! My boys Ohm and Fluke (no, not that Fluke, the one from My Ride). Honestly, Fluke has popped up as a side in a couple GMMTV shows I was wondering who they'd BL him with.

This could win. Prettiest human on earth paired with the world's most potent single dimple. Will I survive? I honestly don't know, because Ohm historically doesn't have much chemistry with anyone but the original Fluke so... Still I l do love JuniorMark and this as a really unique premise (gay Heartbreakers), so I'm game.

Head 2 Head

trailer

The Boo kids are back. I don't love this pair (I find their chemistry and acting awkward) or the main trope (E2L) but I do like the new sides and their trope (2nd chance is a fav of mine). So this one will depend on whether those are full side dishes or just crumbs.

Ticket To Heaven

trailer

GMMTV is doing Boy Foretold by Stars concept? Interesting, did not have religious boundary pushing and bildungsroman down on he Thai BL bingo card.

This isn't my thing but I think G4 are actually going to be amazing in it and I certainly look forward to them pushing their acting chops. Not to mention the discomfort something like this can cause in general/global viewership. I like it when BL makes people (who aren't me) uncomfortable.

Burnout Syndrome

trailer

GMMTV doing edgy is never a good thing IMHO, and in this one they're handling sex work. *shakes head* However, Not Me is the noted exception and this is that same pair with the same director. So I'm curious if not wild about the content.

That said, I'm delighted to see Gun with someone else (Dew is a stunning choice, thank you Casting) even if only for a love triangle moment. It's been a WHILE.

Melody of Secrets

trailer

Not wild about ForceBook, do like a mystery, don't like horror or psychological thrillers... not sure on this one.

I like BL pushing into new territory, even if it's not my territory, but this is defiantly not made for me, that's for damn sure.

And that's the end of my list.

"But wait," you cry. "P'ABL you're still missing some."

How Dare

Only Friends Dream On

trailer

Yeah, no fuckoff. I will not be watching this. I already marked it pink on the Spreadsheet of Doom. (Pink means CNF or an automatic no watch for me.)

But dude was it nice to see all those pairs busted. That's always a good time for me. Anyway, all you so-n-sos who gave the first one your eyeballs are to blame for this. Watch it n weep. Without me.

(Side note: I love it when a title reviews itself, Only Friends: Dream On, indeed. It's like media aptronym.)

and last and definately least......

Love You Teacher

trailer

no

no no

NO NO

NO!!!

I do like Perth & Santa (although I'm not sold on them as a pair). But words cannot describe how much I dislike this premise. SERIOUSLY? No thank you very much. I could, just maybe, hate watch Only Friends 2, but it's gonna be hard for me to even turn this on. Infantilization and people acting like children wigs me tf out. YKINMKBYKIOK of course, but not in my BL GMMTV. Stop it! (This one also got the dreaded pink of will not watch.)

More Disappointments

Thor didn't get the lead in anything. (Pouts in "but he so sexy.")

No major pairs were significantly busted.

Tonally it's gone darker than I expected. I prefer lighter fluffier BL so this tonal shift for GMMTV as a whole is not a win for me personally. Should be left to Japan IMHO.

That said, most of my favorite GMMTV pairs are in my top picks to watch as well, so I'm happy for that.

I'm Intrigued Despite Myself

My favorite trailer of all was actually Wu (red thread fated paranormals are my favoritest thing ever next to isekai) but that's not a branded pair so I'm not convinced it's BL. Hoping it is, but that happened in 2024 with these boys, so I'll leave it in the air for now.

I like that we're making push to leave uni and high school behind (don't worry, other Thai studios will fill the gap). I think GMMTV is doing this in order to

keep branded pairs together and

keep the actors of those pairs interested in the BL scripts.

As their major pairs age out of uni, GMMTV has to hand them more meaty and grown up stuff. I didn't think they would actually do this, so I'm pleased to see it happen. Even if it's all going darker than I like, at least it's different.

I don't really report on GL and I rarely have time to watch it these days. I thought the new MilkLove looked cute, but I'm still recovering from whatever happen in their last one. The Girl's Rules one looks like a light-weight L-Word. Still happy to see GMMTV move out of school for thier few GLs too.

(source)

[theformulaimagines]

Look at that woman (breaking my heart) | part five

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Vettel!Reader

Summary: For one and a half years Lewis and y/n managed to keep their relationship a secret, until it blew up in their faces. Now, they're trying their hardest to pick up the pieces...

Warnings: angst, fluff and some smut indicators but nothing really

masterlist

Lewis excused himself the second he saw that she left a voicemail, his slow walk becoming quicker as soon as he entered the lengthy hallway. He didn’t even realize that his hands were trembling until he sat down on the edge of his bathtub.

He quickly holds his phone up to his ear. The soft smile fades as quickly as it emerges when he recognizes how exhausted and sad she sounds.

“I would trade everyone here to just have you around.”, is all he texts Y/N, but the message isn’t going through.

lewishamilton has made a post

liked by y/nvettel, charles_leclerc, f1, sebastianvettel and 2,975,245 others

lewishamilton: thank you to everyone who has sent me birthday wishes 🫂💜 (made one myself as well, ijkyk 🎂🙏🏾)

view all other comments…

user 1: HAPPY BIRTHDAY KING 👑🫡

user 2: he’s so adorable stooop

y/nvettel: happy birthday!!!! GUTTED i couldn’t make it but see you soon!! 🫂🫂🫂🫂

user 3: why wasn’t y/n there ???

mercedesamgf1: 🐐🐐🐐

user 4: what do you mean if you know you know ????

user 5: @/user4 doesn’t it mean i just know you know

user 4: @/user5 then who is he TALKING TO 🤨

user 6: our subliminal king 😍😍😍

A soft yawn escapes her lips while she stares at at the television. Some true crime documentary on a man pushing his wife down the stairs is playing. Y/N reaches over for her diet coke, while her eyes are motionless fixated on the screen.

“What a bitch, Jesus.”, she mutters while eyeing how the man denied ever touching her, rolling her eyes at his weak excuses. She wants to take a sip when there’s a knock on the door. Quickly she stands up, amazed that the hotel is that quick with her room service order.

However, when she unlocks the door she makes eye contact with Lewis. And for a moment they just stare at one another.

But then Lewis takes a step towards her and slams his lips on hers, their mouths moving in a way that almost seems choreographed. Y/N quickly lets the door fall shut as they stumble further back into her hotel room.

@/louisa_futurewag has posted a tik tok

118,629 likes and 3,919,514 replays

louisa: stating the OBVIOUS ! #f1 #fyp #lewisandy/n

view all comments…

user 1: she could be THEE wag

user 2: you guys are so so so so weird why can’t you just accept that they’re only friends

user 3: they’re booing bc they know you’re right

user 4: THE WAY THAT MECHANIC IS LOOKING AT LEWIS LOOKING AT Y/N GOOOOD GOD I AM SEEING WHAT YOURE DOING FOR OTHERS

user 5: @/user4: the eyes chico 🥹🥹

user 6: i can tell you right now that lewis sees her as a friend 😭 he has known her since she was like 10 … anything else would be weird as fuuuuu

[farsight-the-char]

++ THE IRON WALL ++

- Art by Artem Demura

.. They said: “O Dhu al-Qarnayn! Lo! Gog and Magog are spoiling the land. So may we pay thee tribute on condition that thou set a barrier between us and them?” He said: “That wherein my Lord hath established me is better than your tribute. Do but help me with the strength of men, I will set between you and them a bank. “Give me pieces of iron” - till, when he had levelled up the gap between the cliffs, he said: “Blow!” - till, when he had made it a fire, he said: “Bring me molten copper to pour thereon.” “And Gog and Magog were not able to surmount, nor could they pierce it.” He said: “This is a mercy from my Lord; but when the promise of my Lord cometh to pass, He will lay it low, for the promise of my Lord is true.” - Surah Al-Kahf

...

More lore under the cut

Anchored by the Taurus Mountains to the North and Zagros Mountains in the East, the two horns of the crescent moon, the Invincible Iron Wall of Dhu al-Qarnayn is both the symbol of the Sultanate and the very reason for its existence. Beyond it lies the last and the greatest realm of Those Who Believe. Easily eclipsing all other known Wonders of the World, none who have seen the Iron Wall can ever forget it. Despite centuries of artillery bombardment by Heretic cannons, its surface is untarnished, glittering like a newly-cast steel plating in the morning sun, and at night the manyfold gemstones embedded into its very structure light up in a wondrous show of colour and artistry. Neither the Wall itself nor its gates have ever been brought down, and while some enemies have made it across the Wall to spread death and terror deep into the Sultanate proper, they have always been thrown back.

At regular intervals stand towers and bulwarks erected by the sultans of both past and present, specifically constructed to support the long-range artillery of the Imperial School of Military Engineering. The great spires act as both lookouts as well as minarets for calling the believers to salah five times a day. These constructions, mighty as they may be, are not nearly as durable as the Invincible Iron Wall. They are often under repairs or being rebuilt due to the horrendous damage Heretic artillery and long-range bombers inflict upon them. There are four Great Gates (as well as many lesser ones) roughly corresponding to the four cardinal directions. Each holds a great garrison commanded by a sanjaq-bey (‘Lord of the Standard’) responsible for the security and protection of the trade routes beyond. Despite their formidable constructions, the Sultan’s Pashas know that if one of the Four Gates was ever taken, the Sultanate would be in mortal peril. Thus it is not just Janissaries and a host of Azebs and Sappers that guard the Great Gates, but instead each entrance is also guarded by two takwin creatures of truly colossal proportions: winged beasts with eyes keener than those of any hawk and claws that can tear a Heretic tank in half with a single swipe. Their form was chosen in honour of the legendary buraq that once carried the Prophet. They are not only there to protect the Gates with physical force but also with their wit.

Created with keen intellect, the buraq takwin tests the travellers to the Sultanate with subtle but deeply sagacious perspicacious questions and riddles, exposing Heretic infiltrators and weeding out those who would bring harm to the Believers. Due to their intelligence, the takwin guardians are well-aware of the artificial nature of their being, suffering from the knowledge of their unnatural existence. It is said that they are created as pairs not only for their might but also that they could give solace to each other with deep philosophical discussion and sophisticated poetry, alleviating the pain of their existential horror - for they were created by a man and not by God, and thus can hold no hope of salvation. When there are no passersby travelling through the Gate, their low, rumbling voices echo across the wall as they debate the meaning of the ninety-nine names of Allah, the nature of love or past battles they have engaged in the many years of their existence. Creation and maintenance of even one of these mighty beasts costs the Sultan the yearly income of an entire nāḥiyah, and occupies the finest cadre of the Alchemists of the House of Wisdom for a better part of seven years. It is a price the Sultan is glad to pay for the protection of his people. The bountiful blessings of the Iron Wall are not limited to mere physical protection from the forces of Shaytan: the scholars of the House of Wisdom have laboured for decades to create machines to help maintain and regulate the precipitation within the lands of the Believers, as well as making Sultanate air space exceedingly hard for Heretic aerial forces to harry, due to the high winds that often whip above the spires of the Iron Wall. Here, wondrous devices trap the passing gales and storms, using them to guard their air space against Hell-bombers and long range reconnaissance planes.

[realhotgirlshitah]

Baking up Trouble (Preview)

Brother’s best friend Luigi x fem reader

This is a preview because I’m too lazy to write a summary LMAO. (Yes this will be smut. Probably the smuttiest smut I’ve ever written so stay tuned idk).

Also lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist for when I actually finish and post 🧍🏾‍♀️🫶🏾

It was rare for you to have the house to yourself.

Whether it was your mom bustling around the kitchen, your dad bellowing on the phone with some poor soul on the other end, or your older brother Caleb shouting over his headset at his friends while playing whatever dumbass game he was obsessed with that week, your home was never quiet.

So, when you finally got the chance to experience true, undisturbed silence, you weren’t about to let it go to waste.

Your parents were out of town on some business trip, dragging Caleb along under the guise of “preparing him for the family empire” or whatever grand plan they had for him. You had to admit you were grateful he was their golden child and not you because the idea of taking over the family business bored you to death. You respected it, sure, but you knew from a young age that it wasn’t for you. So when they extended the invitation—well, demand—to come along, you’d firmly declined, claiming you needed the downtime.

And oh, what a glorious decision that had been.

The house was finally quiet. Peaceful. Blissful. No one was yelling. No one was stomping around. It was just you, your favorite playlist blasting through the speakers, and a baking project you hadn’t been able to tackle since midterms swallowed your life.

You’d opted for comfort, slipping into your comfiest pajama set—a tiny pair of soft cotton shorts (the ones your best friend had gifted you as a joke, with the words “Best Ass on Instagram” emblazoned across the back) and a matching cami. You figured no one would see you, so what did it matter? With Megan Thee Stallion’s music fueling your every move, you danced around the kitchen as you whisked, measured, and kneaded your way into what you were sure would be the best cookies and cakes you’d ever made.

Life was good.

Until it wasn’t.

“CALEBBBBBB! DUDE, WHERE ARE YOU?”

The loud, grating voice shattered the peaceful bubble you’d created, making you jump so violently that the whisk you were holding clattered onto the counter. You froze, your heart sinking as recognition dawned.

There was only one person on Earth capable of being that loud and that irritating at the same time.

Luigi. Fucking. Mangione.

You groaned, your fingers gripping the edge of the counter as you prepared yourself for the chaos about to descend. Luigi had been Caleb’s best friend since they were kids, practically living at your house during summer breaks and any weekend they didn’t have plans elsewhere. He was obnoxious, smug, and always seemed to derive way too much joy from making your life difficult.

Before you could even think of hiding, he sauntered into the kitchen like he owned the place, his trademark smirk plastered across his face. He looked the same as always—big brown puppy-dog eyes that didn’t match his sharp tongue, short brown curls that were in DESPERATE need of some hair oils and curl cream, and, of course, that fuckass shirt.

“The Bali shirt… again?” you glared, gesturing at the faded blue tee he wore. “What is this, Day 527 of you refusing to buy new clothes?”

His grin widened, unbothered as ever. “What can I say? It’s comfortable.”

“Your family owns like half the town, Luigi. Maybe splurge on a shirt that doesn’t look like it’s been run over by a truck.”

“Why would I? This one drives you crazy. Can’t put a price on that.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t fall out of your head. “What are you even doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Shortcake.”

You bristled at the nickname he’d been calling you since you were kids. You hated it then, and you hated it now, mostly because it only made you feel shorter.

“Don’t call me that,” you snapped.

“What, you don’t like my nickname for you?” he teased, leaning casually against the counter like he didn’t notice (or care) that you were glaring daggers at him.

“No. I don’t, it’s inaccurate, i’m above average height,” you deadpanned.

“Well, too bad. It’s cute. You’re cute. Deal with it.”

You let out a sharp exhale, trying to ignore the way his words made your stomach do something infuriatingly close to flipping.

“Luigi,” you started, crossing your arms, “Why. Are. You. Here?”

He blinked innocently. “Looking for Caleb.”

“Well, Caleb isn’t here, genius. He’s in D.C. with my parents.”

Luigi frowned, his expression briefly falling into confusion before that damn smirk returned. “Huh. Guess I missed the memo, I really thought he’d be here,”

“Well, he’s not,” you said, your tone sharp. “So you can leave.”

He didn’t move. Instead, his gaze flicked over you, taking in your outfit with a slow, deliberate once-over that made your skin heat.

“Cute shorts,” he said, his voice dipping just enough to send an annoying tingle down your spine.

Your face burned. “Excuse me?”

“They’re… festive,” he continued, clearly amused. “What’s it say? ‘Best Ass on—’”

“Don’t.”

“Instagram?” he finished anyway, grinning as your glare deepened. “Fitting.”

“Get out.”

“Why? I’m complimenting you.”

“Luigi.”

“Yes, Shortcake?”

“Get. Out.”

He sighed dramatically, but instead of leaving, he pulled out a chair at the kitchen island and plopped himself down. “Nah, I think I’ll stick around. You look like you could use the company.”

Your jaw dropped. “Are you serious right now?”

“Very.”

“Caleb isn’t here. You have no reason to be here.”

“You’re here,” he said simply, propping his chin in his hand as he stared at you.

You scowled. “That’s not a reason.”

“It is for me.”

You groaned, turning back to your dough in an attempt to ignore him. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re mad,” he shot back without missing a beat.

Your hands stilled, the words catching you off guard. You hated how smooth he could be, how effortlessly he could make you flustered with just a few words. And worse, he knew it.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you asked, not bothering to look at him.

“Not really.”

“Go find something. Or someone. Literally anyone but me.”

“Why would I do that when I’ve got the best view in town right here?”

You froze, your stomach flipping as the weight of his gaze settled on you. Slowly, you turned to face him, narrowing your eyes.

“You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re a terrible liar,” he countered, leaning back in his chair with that infuriating grin still firmly in place.

“Why are you like this?” you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

“Like what? Charming? Handsome? Irresistible?”

“Annoying. Obnoxious. Full of yourself.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Admit it, Shortcake. You’d miss me if I wasn’t around.”

You scoffed. “In what universe?”

“This one,” he said easily, his eyes locked onto yours.

The tension in the air thickened, the playful banter giving way to something heavier, more charged. For a moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. His gaze was intense, almost searching, and it made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t want to examine too closely.

Finally, you broke the silence, turning back to your dough with a sharp exhale. “You’re delusional.”

“Maybe,” he said, his voice softer now. “But I’m not wrong.”

You didn’t respond, focusing instead on kneading the dough with more force than necessary. The sound of the music filled the space between you, but it did little to drown out the weight of his presence.

[grlsbstshot]

NEON LIGHTS

Pairing (Original Characters):

Jameson Lucas (Aaron Pierre) x Imani St. Cirie (Megan thee Stallion) Genie Adesanya (Jayme Lawson) x Ellington “EJ” Dupree (Kelvin Harrison Jr.)

Chapters:

Neon Lights Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: The Aspen Aftermath

Warnings: 18+ (!!!!! -- minors dni), mentions of cheating, toxic relationship, parental abandonment mention, mentions of therapy -- if we missed anything, let us know!

Word Count: 7.5k

Divider Template: @cafekitsune

Notes: 

The following characters are original creations. Their voice claims are Usher / Lucky Daye (Jameson) & Summer Walker / SZA (Imani). We have no affiliation to any of those artists.

Strangely, the flight to Los Angeles somehow felt less lonely than the one she took to Aspen. This time she didn’t have Isaiah. She was by herself but her heart was full. Her vibrant smile, radiating with happiness, caught the attention of the stewardess and pilot as they asked about her glow. All she could say was: “I just got some good news.”

A small chuckle escaped her lips as she settled into her seat. Gazing out the window, Imani’s mind was filled with thoughts of her recent trip to Aspen. It had been a messy yet clarifying experience, especially with Jameson unexpectedly returning to her life.

It upended not only Jameson and Imani’s lives but also Isaiah and Camille’s. Isaiah wasted no time taking his grievances to Instagram. He posted vague messages on his Instagram story that sparked speculation from the tabloids. His words didn’t affect her much. 

She shared a little jab of her own at the basketball player on Instagram, then she went about her day. She was unaware of Genie and Jameson’s posts and EJ’s DM to Isaiah until later, but even then, she didn’t care. Her friends were only having her back in the situation.

Camille, on the other hand, was radio silent. The group hadn’t heard a single word from her since she left Aspen. It was probably for the best. Imani learned about Camille’s betrayal to Jameson days ago and she already reserved more than triple the rage for Camille than she felt for Sloane. It was an on-sight policy if she ever ran into either one of them. 

A soft ping broke through the silence of the airplane, jolting Imani out of her thoughts. With a quick glance down at her lap, she saw a text message from Jameson waiting for her.

[forever mine ❤️]: miss u already. let me know when you land.

A wide, genuine grin spread across her face as she reminisced about their earlier conversation.

“Come back to New York with me, baby. I want more time with you,” Jameson pleaded, his intense gaze fixed on her. His large hands rested gently and possessively on her hips as she stood between her legs, her own hands resting on his broad shoulders.

She couldn’t help but tease him in return. “Damn, you feenin’ for me bad, ain’t you?” Her playful tone masked her true desire. She wanted nothing more than to fly off to New York with him, to spend every moment in his arms to recoup all of the time they lost.

He pulled her even closer to his body and she wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head against the top of his head. “Mhm. Just like you feenin’ for me,” he murmured against her skin. “So stop playing and come with me.”

Imani shook her head slightly, torn between wanting to be with him and the realities of their busy lives. She remembered telling him they should never spend a night apart again, but she had responsibilities. “I can’t, Jay. I have some important meetings with the label.”

“You could do a video conference.” Jameson placed small kisses against her neck, making his offer appetizing. Yet, she shook her head and pulled away slightly. 

“I can’t, baby. Besides, I think we need to spend a week apart so we can miss each other.” She sighed, knowing they needed this brief separation to evaluate everything that had happened.

“Well, I miss you already,” Jameson admitted, his voice laced with sincerity.

“I miss you too,” she replied softly.

The wheels of the plane touched down on the runway long ago. Her bags were swiftly loaded into the sleek black SUV, and she was settled comfortably in the plush leather backseat as the blurred lights of Los Angeles passed by. She was just about to send a text to Jameson, letting him know she had arrived safely when a phone call from her aunt Toni interrupted her.

Imani hesitated, knowing the conversation was inevitable. Toni’s friendship with Anaïs and the messy tabloids surrounding the trip, she was bound to know at least a little about what transpired. Imani’s finger hovered over the “ignore” button, but ultimately, she pressed “answer.”

“Hello,” she said cautiously.

“I heard you had quite the time in Aspen.” Toni said, forgoing any greeting. Imani should have known that Toni would be business first. She worked in PR – she knew what a good look was and the shit with Isaiah online was anything but that.

“I-um, it was fun,” Imani replied hesitantly. Only Toni had the power to leave her at a loss for words like this. She didn’t know how to absolve herself of guilt over what had happened between her and Jameson. “Jameson and I are working through our differences and getting back together.”

At that moment, Imani forgot that they were supposed to keep their relationship a secret. But who was she kidding? Toni seemed to have a sixth sense about these things — she probably already knew everything.

“I thought you were done with him last year. Didn’t you say he wasn’t the right man for you?”

“I did…but I can’t live without him, Auntie." Imani admitted with a heavy sigh. “He’s the love of my life, my soulmate.”

“Imani, what are you doing?” Toni’s voice held a hint of concern and exasperation.

“What do you mean?”

“First you break things off with Jameson then you jump into three different relationships in the span of six months, and now you’re back with him? What’s going to be different this time?”

Imani fell into silence as she struggled to find an answer to Toni’s question. What was going to be different? She had thought that love would be enough to get them through anything, but clearly, that wasn’t the case.

Toni sighed, breaking the silence. “Listen, I like Jameson. You know I do. His mother is my best friend. But even I knew to keep him away from you when you two were growing up.” 

“What the fuc–”

The silence on the other end of the phone was blistering. Toni didn’t take bullshit or disrespect. From anyone. “I mean…I’m sorry, Auntie. But excuse me?” It wasn’t a secret that Toni and Anais were good friends. Everybody knew that. But Imani didn’t realize that it wasn’t just coincidence she and Jameson didn’t meet until a few years ago.

“Thank you for getting yourself together.” Toni responded crisply. “Jamie – for all his positive traits – is almost exactly like his father. And you, my baby, are exactly like me. Hard exterior, all soft heart inside.”

Imani was silent — something that happened so rarely, it was astonishing. She didn't know his father but Imani knew herself. She was all heart for Jameson and always would be. 

“You two need to make sure this is really what you want, or else you’ll just end up right back where you were before.”

As much as Imani hated to admit it, her aunt was right. They needed to approach their relationship with a new mindset if they wanted it to work this time around. “You’re…you’re right,” she said slowly, finally finding the words to speak. “I’ll talk to him about it,” she promised.

“Good. We need to have lunch soon. I have some opportunities for you that you might be interested in.” Toni said confidently.

“Okay, we’ll talk,” Imani agreed, grateful for her auntie’s support and guidance. After saying their goodbyes, Imani ended the call and opened her text thread with Jameson, typing quickly about her flight home. But before she could send the message, he beat her by sending one.  

[forever mine ❤️]: i made it back to ny baby. wishin you were here with me.

The city's noise was background -- filtered through the glass doors of the quiet french bistro she'd decided to have lunch at. The faint hum of music played overhead but she couldn't place the song. Camille adjusted the silk scarf around her neck, a small attempt to present herself as composed, even though her heart still felt tender from the events in Aspen. 

Breaking up with Jameson had been difficult. She cried the entire flight home, isolated herself in her penthouse, and watched with horror as Isaiah put on a stunningly obvious show. Despite her anger and hurt, she had refrained from lashing out at Jameson -- probably because she knew he wouldn't hesitate to tell the whole story. After watching Isaiah's crash out, she wasn't interested in being the next one. She hadn't even unfollowed anybody. Camille simply logged out of Instagram and focused on herself. 

It was over. Why prolong the pain? 

Her personal development was important and after the mess of a woman she had become to wrap Jameson around her finger, Camille was more interested in sorting herself out than getting revenge. 

Reaching out to Kendrick and thanking him for driving her to the airport had been just good manners. After her behavior during his daughter’s engagement vacation, she felt it was important to show him a good side to who she was. He’d been gracious with his acceptance – had even been kind enough to accept her offer to buy him lunch. It was a surprise but Camille was determined to show him she wasn’t some deranged crazy woman who had lied to the man he considered to be his son. She was a normal girl who had lost her way a little bit.

When Kendrick arrived, his tall frame and calm demeanor instantly brought a sense of ease to the space. He greeted her with a warm smile, his eyes seemingly assessing – wanting to see if she was something his daughter should hate.

"Camille," he said, pulling out the chair across from her, "Thank you for inviting me. You didn’t have to though. I was doing what anyone else would have done.”

She shook her head, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "This isn’t about Aspen, not really. I just wanted to thank you. I’ve been…reflecting on things. You getting me out of there was the start of me wanting to change things in my life. You were being kind when I was falling apart...it meant a lot." 

Kendrick studied her for a moment before nodding. "I figured you might’ve needed a kind face. And, truthfully, I couldn’t let you leave like that without knowing you were okay." 

The waiter interrupted briefly, taking their orders, and as the conversation resumed, the initial formality began to melt away. They talked about the trip, about New York, and Camille’s plans to refocus on herself – of which he completely approved.

"I saw the posts," Camille admitted, swirling her glass of water absentmindedly. "Imani and Isaiah... It’s a mess.”

“Yes. It is.” Kendrick agreed with a nod of his head. His gaze came to her and softened. “But Jameson told me…everything. How you two ended. It's understandable. He feels guilty.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say that he should but she knew it was bitterness. She hadn't been honest with him but she didn't deserve for those two to carry on under the same roof as her. She scanned that whole weekend wondering if it happened more than once. Did they fuck and then laugh about her not knowing? Was she their foreplay? “It's…it doesn't matter. I realized I don’t want to be part of that strange, toxic thing they've got going on. I’ve been bitter, jealous, and honestly...It's exhausting. I need to move forward." 

Kendrick tilted his head slightly, his expression thoughtful. "That’s a mature way to look at it. Not everyone can step back and admit when it’s time to let go." 

Camille smiled faintly. "I didn’t want to end up stuck in a loop of what-ifs. Jameson and I were doomed from the night we met." She hesitated, her gaze flickering to Kendrick. "But I think I’m ready to start fresh." 

The spark between them became undeniable as the conversation deepened. Kendrick shared stories of his past, his voice steady and soothing, while Camille found herself laughing and leaning in closer. It wasn’t until the waiter brought the check that they realized how much time had passed. 

As they stepped out into the crisp New York air, Camille turned to him, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and trepidation. "I know this might seem…insane. But I feel like there’s something here? I don’t know what it is yet, but I’d like to find out." 

Kendrick hesitated, his hands slipping into his coat pockets as he searched for the right words. "Camille, you’re...a wonderful girl. But this is everything you aren’t looking for. It’s messy. It’s complicated. Jameson is—" 

"Jameson and I are over," she interrupted gently. "And I’m not looking for anything messy. I just... I feel something, and I don’t want to ignore it." 

She could see him waver, the loyalty to his family overcoming the brief spark of something between them. 

“I’m very flattered, Camille. But I think it’d be best for us to leave things at…mutual appreciation.”

Disappointment set into her frame, slumping her shoulders. One afternoon with Kendrick had been more exciting than six months with Jameson. She couldn't help but think about what would have happened if she had met him first. “I…I understand. Thank you again. I'll never forget your kindness.”

He opened his mouth to say more but Camille turned on her heel and strode away, embarrassment tinting her skin.

Jameson cradled his phone between his shoulder and ear as he leaned against the kitchen counter, flipping through the images on his iPad. The suggestions for Midnight & Dawn’s next video shoots were missing something. His original plan had been to make Caught Up a single. Camille was meant to star but after his relationship with her had imploded, he wanted to move forward with something else. That meant his team had a week and a half to pick a new single, and storyboard a video. It wasn’t fully working. He couldn’t figure out what it was driving him crazy. “I’m not saying it’s shit. I’m just – it’s missing something.” He mumbled into the phone. His PR agent, manager, and creative director were on a conference call, doing their best to help him pull things together. 

The week he had taken off to celebrate Genie and EJ hadn’t caused any plans to hit a snag but he was feeling overwhelmed by the level of decision-making he had to involve himself in. He had only been back in time a few days and everything was radically different. No Camille, new second single, new plans, EJ and Genie were engaged. And most importantly, he had Imani back. He was a different man than the one who had arrived in Aspen with his life ‘together’. 

“We can always regroup, Jay.” He heard his creative director say with patience but he knew she had to be frustrated. They’d spent a month beforehand planning all this shit out. 

“I know, I know. I’m just…I’m sorry. We’ll table everything but single two for now.” His focus was shot. All he thought about was Imani. He cycled between being frustrated she wasn’t with him and trying to keep his head above water. It was a blessing to be overwhelmed this way. The album had hit platinum quickly and people wanted more far sooner than he thought they would. 

“I’m thinking we drop the next single soon. Give people something more to talk about. Build it with a few performances and then when the video is done, we drop it.” his PR agent said. It was a solid outline. 

Jameson nodded before verbally agreeing. “Turnaround is going to be tight but I think we’ve got it.”

The conversation continued, his mind racing with plans to keep the momentum going. The double album was his most ambitious project yet, and every detail mattered. He barely heard the sound of the doorbell over his thoughts, distractedly he made his way to the front door. When he opened it, he froze.

Imani stood on the stoop, the cold night air curling around her in soft wisps. She wore a long coat, her hands tucked into the pockets, and her eyes held a mixture of hesitation and determination.

“You just gone stand there?” she said, her voice gentle but teasing. “It’s cold out here, boy.”

Jameson’s heart slammed against his ribs. “I gotta go.” He mumbled to his team, ignoring their continued chattering. He lowered the phone from his ear and hung up, completely forgetting everything that had annoyed him. “You’re here.”

He gave her a stunned grin before stepping aside, wordlessly inviting her in. She stepped inside his home for the first time ever as Jameson snagged her suitcase and heaved it inside. There was a beat of silence between them. He could smell her perfume and it settled in his bones that she was with him. It seemed to snap him out of his daze.

“I like your house, baby.”

Jameson’s gaze swept her body – from head to toe – as she walked around his living room. He committed her to memory as if she’d disappear. He had done his best not to envision her there. It was essential to give his relationship with Camille a chance. But Cami was gone. He wasn’t ignoring his heart anymore. And his heart felt glad to see her in his space. He dropped her suitcase and cast it aside.

“Thank you.” He spoke softly, a grin on his lips. “How'd you know where I lived?”

“Genie” she answered with ease. “She even offered me your key.”

Jameson laughed softly. “Well, thank God for Genie. I thought we needed to miss each other?”

Imani peered over her shoulder at him, shrugging as she kept walking. Through his living room and into the kitchen. “...I did miss you.”

He grinned, reaching for her, and was delighted she didn’t make him chase her. “I missed you more.”

Jameson lay sprawled on his back, his chest rising and falling steadily. Imani lay on top of him, her fingertips lazily tracing the contours of his skin. He kissed her neck softly, unable to let her go. His lips pressed to her skin constantly, soaking up every sigh or moan she gave him.

Her touch was light, deliberate, and distracting. He let out a quiet hum of contentment, his hand slipping beneath the sheet to glide along the curve of her hip.

“You’re quiet,” he teased, his voice low and rough. “I stressed you out?”

Imani smiled against his chest, her lips brushing his skin. “I’m just enjoying the view,” she murmured, her tone playful.

“What a coincidence. Me too,” he said with a grin, earning a soft pinch to his side.

She laughed, the sound warm and intimate, before falling silent again. A few moments passed before she broke the stillness.

“I told my auntie about us,” she said softly, her voice hinting at trepidation.

Jameson’s chest shook beneath her cheek as he let out a quiet laugh. “Already? I thought I was the one that couldn’t keep a secret.” Toni had come into his mother’s life when he was a kid. His father had left and Toni became their support. At least until Anais began dating Kendrick. But as far back as he could remember, Toni was around. And she didn’t hesitate to fuss at him.

“Shut up.” Imani muttered, lifting her head to look at him. “She called me when I got back to Los Angeles. The shit with Isaiah was…A lot.” Imani admitted, “And I couldn’t lie.”

Jameson raised an eyebrow, his fingers idly tracing the small of her back. “I can only guess what Toni had to say. Something about it not being a good idea? ‘You can’t trust him, Mani baby’ or something close?” It didn’t matter that she was his mom’s best friend, she disapproved heavily of Jameson and Imani getting together. She hadn’t been shy about it at all.

Imani’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “Not exactly. She said we’d better be serious this time. No games, no drama.”

“Well, she and I agree for once,” he murmured, his tone thoughtful but tinged with humor. “I’m not letting you go again. I’m not living without you anymore. I’ve had enough of that to last me a lifetime.”

Her expression softened, and she shifted to lay on the bed, her body pressing to his side as she rose on her elbow, her hair spilling over her shoulder as she looked down at him. “That’s why I was thinking... maybe –” She struggled to say the words and Jameson’s eyes were wide with surprise. She didn’t hesitate and she didn’t stutter. “Maybe…we…we should try couples therapy.”

If he wasn’t laying down, Jameson would have fallen over. His hand stilled against her back, his gaze locking onto hers. “That’s not a bad idea, baby.” he said, his voice steady and sincere. “Therapy has helped me work through a lot. And if it can help with us too...” He reached up, brushing a stray curl from her face. “I’m in. I want it, Mani. All of it. I want you. I want us.”

A slow smile spread across her lips, and she leaned down, her breath warm against his skin. “I want us too,” she whispered, her voice laced with quiet intensity. “More than anything.”

Her lips found his, soft and searching, and he responded in kind, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of her neck. The kiss deepened, and for a moment, the rest of the world ceased to exist. When they finally broke apart, she rested her forehead against his, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

“Think Toni will be proud of us for therapy?” Jameson asked, his voice teasing as his fingers danced along her arm.

Imani laughed softly, “Knowing her, she’d never say it. But even if she isn’t, it’s not about her. It’s about us.”

“Just us.” Jameson agreed, pulling her body over his again. For the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

Kendrick stretched out on his couch, one arm draped over the back, phone in hand. He stared at Anaïs’ name on the screen, his thumb hovering over the call button. He should’ve told her about Camille days ago, but every time he thought about it, something held him back.

Maybe it was how easy things felt between them lately, how after all these years, their friendship still stood solid despite everything they’d been through. Maybe it was the part of him that still wanted her to see him the way she used to. Whatever it was, he couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. If Anais asked if he was tempted — what could he say but the truth? He was. Kendrick exhaled, shaking off the thought, and hit the button. He had to tell her. Nobody gave him better advice than she did. He had to know how to broach the topic with Jameson.

The phone barely rang before she answered. “Ken.” Just his name, warm and familiar. A small smile tugged at his lips despite the weight in his chest.

“Hey,” he said, relaxing into the sound of her voice. “You busy?”

“Un-uh,” she said, and he could hear the rustling of fabric, like she was settling into bed. “I was actually thinking about you.”

That shouldn’t have made his heart kick the way it did.

“Oh yeah?” he murmured. “What about me?”

She sighed softly. “I needed somebody to talk to.” “You can talk to me about anything.” “I know. I..I heard from my mother today.”

Kendrick’s easy grin faded. He sat up, gripping the phone a little tighter. “What?” Anais and her mother didn’t get along. He didn’t know details but the two women had a fairly complicated relationship. He had only met her once…and it had been a disaster of a dinner. Ana had been in tears by the time it was over and her mother was uninvited from their wedding. It had been horrifying. He doubted the two would ever talk again.

“It was an email. She didn’t call.” Her voice was calm, like this was any other conversation, but Kendrick felt the shift and he didn’t like it.

“What’d she want?” Kendrick asked, sharper than he intended.

Anaïs sighed. “JG would like to talk to me.”

His heart dropped into his stomach. JG. Julian Gautreau. Jameson’s father. He was a ghost haunting them during their relationship and now he was haunting their friendship. Kendrick watched with envy as the two made a life together. He hated Julian — envy made things complicated. As Anais’ star rose, Julian withdrew more and more. He became a mystery to any and everyone around Ana. He was Mr. Anais Lucas…and he couldn’t take it. Eventually, he abandoned her and their son. Even though he was gone, the effects him lingered. Anais found it hard to trust. Jameson suffered the most. How dare he come back twenty years later?

“JG is a fucking—,” Kendrick muttered. “Ken, please.”

He could tell that she was getting upset so Kendrick stopped but he could feel the anger almost suffocating him.

“He asked about Jamie. Said he saw him on tv and could hardly believe that was his son,” she said carefully. “Wanted to know how he was doing. He—he told me he regrets everything.”

Kendrick scoffed. “Twenty years too fucking late.”

“I know,” she murmured.

But there was something in her tone—something soft. And it made something ugly twist inside Kendrick. For years, he had been the one beside her, the one who stayed. He helped pick up the pieces, he raised Jameson, he made sure she never felt alone. He knew her pain better than anyone. And now, what? One conversation and suddenly this man had a place in her thoughts?

“He doesn’t deserve your time, Anaïs,” Kendrick said, his voice low.

“I never said he did,” she replied gently. “But Jameson is his son.”

Silence stretched between them. Normally, it would have been comfortable. Tonight, it wasn’t. Kendrick’s fingers tightened around his phone. Jameson was his son? Then what was he supposed to be to him? He had called to tell her about Camille. He had called because Anaïs mattered too much to keep things from her. But now, jealousy had a stranglehold on his thoughts.

“I gotta go,” he muttered.

“Ken—”

He hung up before she could say anything else. The action shocking him. His jaw clenched as he stared at his phone. He didn’t like this feeling. Didn’t like the way it made him feel like he had something to prove. Without thinking, he scrolled through his contacts. Camille’s name stared back at him.

He had rejected her for his son. For Anais. She sparked something in him — something that hadn’t been touched since Anais left him — and he had walked away from it. It seemed to be for nothing.

Kendrick hit call.

She picked up instantly, her voice timid and hesitant. “I…I didn’t think I’d hear from you again. Hi.”

Kendrick leaned back, sighing. His chest still felt tight. “That date you wanted? I’m free.”

She was quiet, surprise evident. “I…I thought you said —” “I did. And I was right. But…you were right too. There’s something there. And I don’t think we should look away from it.”

Five minutes later, they had made a date. But it didn’t make him feel better.

The air in New York felt suffocating, a stark contrast to the playful energy she felt when she first arrived. Now, there was only silence — a heavy, all-consuming silence that seemed to grow larger with each passing moment. His house was colder than the city air in January. If she knew that therapy would end with them not talking, she wouldn’t have suggested it.

Imani sat stiffly on the couch, her discomfort palpable as she avoided making eye contact with Jameson. He sat just a few feet away on a barstool, but it might as well have been football fields between them. The tension in the room was thick and suffocating, mirroring the atmosphere of their relationship.

“So this it? It’s just gonna be silent for the rest of the time you’re here?” Jameson’s words cut through the air like a knife. His deep baritone voice, normally soothing to Imani, now sounded like a chair dragged across a wooden floor.

“The fuck else do we have to talk about? You said it all in therapy.” Imani shot back, her tone dripping with bitterness and resentment.

“Why’d you suggest therapy if you wasn’t with it?” Jameson turned to face her full, their eyes locking in a tense stare-down.

“I didn’t know it would turn into the ‘fuck Imani’ fest.”“You know that’s not what it was.”

“Yes it was! You were so comfortable telling a stranger everything I did wrong.” She scoffed. “Then the bitch had the nerve to say she don’t think we should be together. And then you gon’ say let’s hear her out.”

“I told her my dirt too! That’s what therapy is! You talk, you tell the truth. You figure out a way to live the best possible way you can.” Jameson retorted, “You didn’t even want to talk about shit. You just wanted to pretend.”

“Nah, that’s not it.” She shook her head. Her leg now bouncing like it had a mind of its own. “That’s not it. I would rather play pretend to a bitch than have her thinkin’ she can tell me what to do with my life like she did you. She don’t fuckin’ know me. She don’t know us!”

Jameson froze, the jab of him doing what his therapist told him to do sinking in. “Do you hear yourself?” he asked, incredulous as he leaned forward on the bar stool. 

She glared at him with disbelief. “Yeah, what the fuck is wrong with what I’m sayin’? That bitch don’t know us. She only knows what you tell her.”

“That’s why you tell her the truth! What did I lie about, Imani?”

“I never said you lied,” Imani snapped back. “I said she don’t know us. She don’t know all the good shit we have goin’ on. That’s why she was so quick to say we don’t need to be together.”

“That’s not what she said. She suggested that we evaluate if we should be together. That’s her job. We’ve both said we aren’t good for each other, Mani. Just because she said that shit doesn’t mean we’re going to break up!”

“Okay, you ain’t supposed to be agreeing with her though! You was too quick to say let’s hear her out.”

“We should! I’m not saying she’s right about everything but at least let her finish talking before you get defensive. And she had a point about the way we use sex against each other, Mani, you have to admit that”

Imani scoffed, “she probably not even gettin’ good dick. That’s why she said that.”

Jameson rolled his eyes, brushing his hand over his face in frustration. “You’re acting like she had something against you. You mean as fuck right now.”

“And you being too nice about a bitch you don’t even know!”

“Should I do like you? Lash out because somebody made a valid point about our broken ass relationship?”

“Oh fuck you, Jameson,” Imani spat back at him. “At least one of us is sticking up for us.”

Jameson laughed sardonically, shaking his head. “Well, it’s about time you decided we’re worth fighting for.”

Imani’s eyes narrowed as she retorted, “nigga, fuck you!” 

“Mhm. Yeah. Since it upset you so much, we don’t have to go back. Happy?”

Her glare intensified as she murmured, “Fine with me,” Imani crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “You probably fucked her anyways.”

He stared at her for a long moment, silent before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. A minute passed before he spoke again – his voice tense. “I love you but you pissing me off. I’ma take a walk. I’ll be back with dinner. You want something?” He was clearly forcing himself to be calm.

“Nope. I’m fine.” She answered quickly with a sharp tone. Right now, Imani didn’t want anything from him. Jameson being out of her sight sounded more appealing than anything else. 

With a roll of his eyes, Jameson rose from the bar stool and headed out the front door. It clicked closed softly behind him – not the slam she expected.

Paris had been good for her — time to think, to breathe, to put distance between herself and everything that had kept her stagnant. She’d worked on herself, on her art, on her emotional baggage. She’d tried to forget about Jameson, or at least push the ache of him to the back of her mind, but it hadn’t been easy. Especially when she heard about his reunion with Imani. Part of her knew that exposing Camille had done that but Sloane didn’t particularly care. Her former friend had really thought she could double cross her. Even if it meant putting Jamie and that girl back together — she wasn’t going to let Camille beat her.

Sloane had always been good at pretending — good at being the supportive friend, the person who kept her feelings in check, who never let her emotions get in the way of getting things from others. But now, as she passed through the sliding glass doors and out into the crisp, early evening air of Los Angeles, the facade cracked just a little. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, the familiar sound almost jarring in the quiet of the night. She pulled it out, her heart skipping when she saw the name flashing on the screen. It was a text from Christian.

"Long time no talk. I hope you’re okay, Lo."

Sloane hesitated, her thumb hovering over the screen as she thought about her answer. Paris had been a beautiful distraction, but she was still the same person, still struggling with the same feelings she had when she left. Christian had put his feelings away. He didn’t mention Imani to her, he didn’t hang around her. He knew when to let go. Sloane wish she had that instinct. Her fingers typed quickly, a simple response: "It was good. Needed some time away."

She hit send and stuffed the phone back in her pocket, stepping into a car waiting at the curb as she left the building. As the car pulled away, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread creeping up her spine. She was home, yes, but nothing felt the same. It felt like she was walking into someone else’s life.

The car sped through the city, lights flickering by in a blur. She could already see the places she’d been—places that now held memories of a life that felt too far away. She wasn’t the same person who had left months ago. She had changed, but Los Angeles hadn’t. And maybe that was the problem.

Her apartment building loomed ahead, the comforting sight of it suddenly feeling a little less familiar. The doors opened, and she stepped inside, taking a breath before making her way to the elevator. When the doors closed, it felt like she was closing off a chapter. But what came next? That was the question she still couldn’t answer.

Sloane’s phone buzzed again. Another text from Christian. "Dinner tonight? Let’s catch up."

She smiled, her heart lifting just a little. It was a sweet offer but she had far too much to do."Busy tonight. Tomorrow?" As the elevator doors opened, Sloane stepped out into the hallway. Her apartment, still the same, greeted her with a silence that felt heavy, a silence that only seemed to echo her uncertainty. But she was here. She was back. She could still hear herself screaming, watching Jameson walk away from her. A shudder ran through her body as she shook the memory away.

She was going to fix it. Everything would be fine. And he’d never walk away from her again.

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Swallowed Whole by The Flame (Messmer the Impaler x Tarnished! Reader) 4

MASTERLIST

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Summary: You and Messmer come to some sort of agreement.

A/N: This is a shorter chapter, but I promise to provide something juicy for the next one!

A03 link

Chapter 4: An Accord

When you're dressed in a cleaner pair of knight's trousers, boots and shirt, you are directed back to the room you dreaded returning to. Messmer's throne room was just as dimly lit as when you first entered, with the Lord awaiting you like an emperor on his throne. 

He was regal and poised, wracking his sharp nails against the armrest as if awaiting your arrival. The other was curled around his spear, an intimidating sight to behold. Once you had been deposited in front of him, his fire knights bowed in respect, taking their spots positioned in areas around the room, eyes directed only on you.

"Tarnished," he announced, his voice booming through the empty hall with the exceptionalism of someone like him, "thou art not much of a beast after all."

He was discussing the matters of being cleaned up, both through your wounds and through being cleaned. Though, if being kept alive was not seen as a sign of mercy from him, there had to be some ulterior motives. 

"Yes, nothing screams relaxation than being drowned in a bath with nowhere to hide." You spoke comically, but Messmer found no amusement in your words. He hadn't since you arrived. You did wonder if he had made friendships in his years, through his soldiers, or did they find him to be some enigma.

You filled the silence with a question. "Now that you so kindly mended me and had me bathed, am I to be on my way?"

Messmer's eye squinted subtly, tapping his fingers impatiently like a cat would swish its tail. You were slowly ebbing your way through to irritating him more and more. "And wherefore doth thee think I wouldst?"

Nerves bubble to your throat, as you're ready to throw up or wish upon his flames to take you out now. "I told you of Miquella's plans. That would make me not your enemy nor your ally." You spoke incredulously. "I am not wanting any part of this, on either side. I am simply telling you the truth so I may leave."

"So thee may betray another?"

"So I may survive." You corrected. Messmer didn't seem convinced. "Do you know how exhausting it is to fight against your family? Your siblings betray and scheme, your mother is imprisoned by some greater will none could even open, and yet, I am in the midst of it all."

He doesn't speak, simply surveying you as do his serpents, all eyes that seem to read right through you, reading whether you speak the truth or not. Truth be told, you do not know if you know what of Marika's whereabouts, only that war after war has been fought, with no sight of a true victor. A Tarnished like yourself could never be loved, nor accepted, it was known. How they mocked you, but still, you endured.

"T'is a shame," Messmer spoke. "It seemeth one of thy friends already knoweth of thy whereabouts."

You held no allies that you knew of who held your trust, alive or dead. None came to your head. "Who?"

"There has't been sightings of one of Miquella's followers, the former follower of Radahn, Freyja." His fingers scratched lightly against the wood of the throne, irking you greatly. "I want thee to deal with her."

You scoff, crossing your arms, glowering back at him with as much fire as he does. So all those things he did rather than kill you were for something. "What would you have me do?"

"Simple," Messmer leans back on his throne, a small smirk on his face. "Kill her and bringeth the proof."

You could only wish he had been joking at this moment, for the urge to laugh washed over you. Indeed it would've been an awkward time to do so. "You wish for me to kill her? Shall I make it clear that she is not the only one? If they hear one of theirs are killed by my own hands, they will not stop until they have me dead. And they will hear of it, one way or another."

"It should not be an issue for you, Tarnished." Messmer holds no sympathy for you, rather he looks even more bored by you. You think if you don't answer him a simple yes or no, he will just catch you alight on the very spot you stand in, imprisoning you again and again.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "Where was she spotted?"

"Mine own soldiers sayeth the Moorth Ruins. It is a two-day ride."

Great. You could only wish you could fly out the highest window and end in a place far from the Keep, riding on Torrent out of here, away from strange cult-like followers and tyrants. "And if I don't do this?"

"Oh, I'm sure thee shall," Messmer rises, his chainmail rattling with each methodical step he takes towards you. "Not only wouldst thee be wanted by me and mine own men, but by them as well.  Wouldst thee rather has't the safety of these walls or the bitter cold world to swallow thee whole?"

Neither were good options, but despite your odds, you'd rather go against each of them individually than face Messmer alone as the full force.

A hundred cuts then to be burnt over and over again.

He has made his way down towards you now, standing in front of you in all his glory. Now that you're not fighting him, you realise up close that behind the scowl, there is a handsomeness to him. You have to admit that the kin of Marika were very comely.

"What doth thee sayeth?" Messmer's voice is a mere whisper, his voice reverberates out and through your chest, and you can't help but shudder at how he enunciates each word thoughtfully. 

Sorry Miquella. You think, signing away your life once again. "I accept."

For the first time, Messmer seems... relieved by your choice. You visibly see the way the lines in his forehead relax slightly, his golden snake-like eye lessens its intensity as if even he is surprised you would say yes.

Messmer gestures for you to follow him. "Cometh, mine own men shalt handeth thee thy weapons and armour."

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

Your amour feels heavy from how long you have not worn it. In those three days imprisoned, you feel the relief of the 'fresh' air hitting your skin, sighing deeply as you take it all in. Messmer stands slightly off to the side behind you, arms folded behind his back, but you're certain you can feel either his gaze or one of his snakes on you.

His soldiers hand you the necessary things, your bag full of your flasks and the map in case you need it to find the ruins, but you're sure you know where they are. 

There is a tense build-up in the air as you stand before Messmer, dressed and armed with his knights ready to wave you off. How you thought Messmer could trust you to do this, you weren't sure. You still thought this was all some trap, bringing the other into a false sense of security before the other could stab them in the back.

Messmer walked over to you, his red hair was even brighter in the cold outside world. "Shalt thee needeth a horse?"

"No need." You responded, pulling forth your whistle and blowing into it, the high-pitched screech bringing forth the long-awaited Torrent at last. Torrent materialises out of nowhere, startling Messmer's knights as if unsure what it was you had conjured. You greet him as he strides towards you, bonking his snout to you as you chuckle, bringing forth a sweet for him to savour. Messmer watched silently until you spoke to him. "This is Torrent. He has been by my side ever since."

Messmer seemed awkward with the small talk, simply nodding but as if he wished to say more. "Very well." He gave a nod, to which gave the thumbs up for the drawbridge to be lowered. The heavy gate groaned with life as it slowly fell, giving you time to hop onto Torrent, finalising everything you had.

When the bridge was finally opened, you gave a final look to Messmer, and his knights, as if you were waving off a dear friend, not the one who had you imprisoned for so long. It felt odd, to say the least, rather than relief to be going, it felt strange to be sent off only to come back to him when all was done.

Messmer was still towering over you when he tugged on your arm, startling you with how warm he felt even through the leather of your gloves. It could almost be unbearable if he held on much longer.

Now almost at eye level with him, you stared back at him, realising just how close he was to your face and-- since when did he have freckles? And when had he ever looked so calm when looking at you? It brought this unknown heat to rise to your face, thankful that your face was covered. 

It was only when the tension was eased that Messmer leant further, whispering something close to your ears that brought the ripples of a shudder to pass through you. In that very moment, you had wished you hadn't touched the withered arm and stepped forth to get to these lands:

"If thee dare betray me, I shall maketh sure thou art never blessed by mine own mother's grace again."

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Gmmtv 2025

So now, that I have time, I'm actually gonna sit and watch the trailers properly. Let's go.

Dare You to Death - The plot is appealing to me, the cast is interesting. I was never a JD fan so if I decide to watch it will be for all the ensemble and the actual plot.

Head 2 Head - My babies! Forced cohabitation my beloved. I'm gonna pretend I didn't see the vision thingy cause other than that this just seems like a cute bl, and I'm here for that.

Burnout Syndrome - OffGun in a love triangle? Gun being fought over by two men just has god intended? I am so seated for this!

Whale Store xoxo - MilkLove is back and I wanna like this one. It seems cute, and drama light. I'll probably be tuning in.

Only Friends - Dream On - The chill that came down my spine when the song started playing. I left my body. With that said, and like I said before, EarthMix is here, so who am I kidding? I will watch. Kinda surprised to see JossFluke already paired in another bl, before the first one has even started airing. OhmLeng was predictable as a recurring pair and I'm always here for Ohm. Leng has a lot to prove being surrounded by all these names.

That Summer - MOND! Mond kissing boys! That's it.

My Romance Scammer - Not in a million years did I think we would get this OhmFluke combo. Dimples is back kissing boys and Ohm is just back. And MarkJunior seem to be here to stay. Also, I love that since we got gay marriage we should immediately tackle gay divorce. Sounds good.

Melody of Secrets - I'm glad they're back playing adults although the dynamic seems to be the same. I wish they changed it up and let Book be the pursuer. I like the horror elements and we don't get enough of those but I don't know about this one.

Love You Teacher - The first half of this trailer had me. I love Perth and he's playing a grown up so I was sold. And then it happened. And I don't know how I feel about any of it.

MU-TE-LUV - I guess we're getting this and not OurSkyy3. Will watch the queers and the rest we'll see.

Cat for Cash - This is just rude. Do they know that cats are my ultimate weakness? I can't watch all these shows, but a show with talking cats? multiple of them?? C'mon. I'm not even gonna pretend to be torn about this one. I will be watching.

Girl Rules - So, Only Friends but make it sapphic. I'm sad to say, I'll probably pass on this one.

Boys In Love - PAPANG!!! The rumours were true and he's paired with Pod in this. All I saw in this trailer was that and the dimples. Who is that kid? Cause he's adorable. This is the obligatory high-school bl, it looks soft and fluffy. Might check it out.

My Magic Prophecy - I will be skipping this one.

A Dog and a Plane - What a mess of a trailer. But do I care? Not even a little. It's TayNew so I'll be watching with bells on.

Me and Thee - This show will be the true test of how shallow I can get. Will I start a show because Est was wearing glasses in the trailer? Only future me will know. Look, PondPhuwin can play, we know this, but I don't know if I want another show with them so soon. At least they're playing different roles, so there's that.

Wu - Who was saying this wasn't bl? Did you not see the golden thread? And the fate talk? And the looks? And well, everything? It's a bl. I don't know about this one mostly because I don't know the actors. Although tumblr is doing its job well and I'm this close to binging the frenemies show so maybe I'll reevaluate.

Memoir of Rati - I am so easy, it's embarrassing honestly. They so pretty, the scenery is so pretty, historical bl. Sold!

Ticket To Heaven - So many flashbacks to catholic school. It looks good, which doesn't surprise considering it's Aof. I'm glad GeminiFourth are back playing more serious roles. I am really intrigued by this one but also don't trust it completely for some reason. I don't know yet.

Yeah, I'm a sucker. I will be watching most of the first episodes of this line up in like a year when they actually get made. Probably not gonna stick with a lot of them but we'll see. As it's becoming obvious, I'm easy.

Also just a fun fact I guess, and as @lurkingshan as said here, with these shows, 4 couples will hit 5 series as a pair. OffGun, FirstKhao, ForceBook and EarthMix, even though that last one I'm counting Ossan's Love which is also not released yet.

And another thing, of the Gmmtv 2024 QL shows, 7 have yet to premiere. Thame Po, will premiere December 13 but the other six don't have dates yet. They are : My Golden Blood, Ossan's Love, The Ex-Morning, Us, Sweet Tooth Good Dentist and Revamp. So yeah, we're not gonna see any of these new shows anytime soon. Although I'm putting my money on the OffGun series being one of the first to premiere in this line up.

All the trailers and posters for gmmtv2025 can be found here.

[epickiya722]

hi kiya :3 sukuna for the ask game !!!

Favorite thing about them: My guy has style, that is also an unpopular opinion (as I don't see a lot of folks talk about that). He pulled up with them purple acrylics, tattoos and pink hair and I was sold! Okay, but for real, Sukuna is just so unapologetically ruthless and I admire that especially mirroring Yuji's personality (my other favorite).

Least favorite thing about them: Sukuna, my guy, why you gotta kill and eat people? Why you gotta mistreat my boy, Yuji and his co?

Favorite line: This one is unfair because he has a lot of lines I like. If I had to choose one... I'd go with his "Are you pitying me" line in 265.

brOTP: Don't care what anyone else, Uraume and Sukuna are a pair you just do not separate. Ride or die besties right there! And while they're not exactly friends, I really like Sukuna's relationship with Yuji. The animosity between them entertains me.

OTP: You know what, while there are some Sukuna ships that would make me go "hm, I like that", I'm coming to the realization that I really don't have a Sukuna ship that I really, really adore so much that I think about it all day? Like, I don't really have that One True Pairing for Sukuna.

nOTP: Kind of the same sentiment here as above. I don't really care enough, I guess? There are ships that I'm just not into, my own personal preferences.

Random Headcanon: Isn't into spicy food. I don't know, I look at Sukuna and while I know he definitely will eat seasoned food, I don't think he'll be hyped about spicy food.

Unpopular opinion: Well, other than the he has some style opinion... hm... you know what? I know folks like to say "oh, Gege is always glazing Sukuna" or whatever, but I don't blame him. Honestly, Sukuna does feel like a character Gege had fun writing in the sense of "I'm not afraid to make this character evil". Like, for all or at least most of the villains in JJK, I like that Gege wasn't afraid to make them well... evil. I doubt he really even tried to make them sympathetic, including Sukuna with his ending. Just trying to make the action of those character understood.

Song I associate with them: Would it be fair if I said Megan Thee Stallion's Otaku Hot Girl? Half joking! Ooh, one song that comes to mind is Rico Nasty's Check Me Out.

Favorite picture of them: Spoiler alert for anyone who hasn't read the manga!

There's a couple I like!

Send Me a Character...