#which is why it makes so much sense seeing how she could have spiralled in the extra scene

[tenderjock]

i do think the most interesting interpretation of btvs lore is that non-vampire demons and mystical entities ALL have souls, unless they sold, destroyed or otherwise got rid of them (like the mayor)

[dangerliesbeforeyou]

me: hmm yeh i kinda get the criticism of this female character, she's not overly complex or interesting but she's Cool so that's basically why people like her which is fine

me 3 seconds later when i hear others shit talking her: actually fuck that, she IS complex AND interesting and i will defend her with my LIFE

[heartsofminds]

if you could see my thoughts, you would see our faces

“I do a lot of things you don’t do. Doesn’t mean you should be knockin’ yourself out to try ‘em.” or Carmy takes an impromptu smoke break and you're begging him for a drag.

A/N: just a sweet little blurb that's been sitting in my back pocket for a while. hope y'all love it as much as i loved writing it!

Smoke breaks never last forever. 

The cacophonic slam of a door, the pliable edges of a pack of American Spirits, the grooves of a lighter’s spark wheel, the mix of brisk Chicago wind smacking your face, and the heat of a silently shameful cigarette caressing it in a false sleeve of comfort – The world is silent during a smoke break. 

Until the door opens and someone asks to bum a light. Or until you get called back in because everyone and their goddamn mother in River North decides to come in to try the dinner special, yet pretend like they’re actually fucking curious to know what you think the best thing on the menu is. Or until the ignored panic in the back of your mind knocks the wind out of you when taking a particularly long drag that leaves you stifling a deep and hearty cough. 

The small moment of peace before it all still remains good. The moment of peace is fine. The moment of peace is all you can afford to get sometimes. 

A smoke break never lasts forever, but the temporary solace it provides is enough for Carmen, whose brain never seems to stop spinning no matter how fast or slow the world is turning without him. 

He’s gotten better, he thinks, about voicing his discomfort and finding ways to “cope” with his feelings of metaphysical spiraling. He’s still getting the hang of this whole “finding meaning outside of the kitchen” thing, but he figures that twenty-eight years of having your worth summed up in how well something was chopped or seasoned or sautéed or whatever the fuck is ridiculously hard to disengage from. 

His therapist would kill him if she knew that he credited a portion of the advancement of his well-being to you. He can hear Erin tell him that he can’t rely on people to make him feel better; that the only person who can determine Carmen’s worth is Carmen himself, but quite frankly he doesn’t give a fuck. 

And then he remembers that not giving a fuck is him making his own decision about his life (which he was never allowed to do before, which is why he thinks he was damned to hell to pick the profession he has), and his heart swells a bit with pride. He cares about something for once that has all to do with him and the meaning of life and living and being alive and in charge, and that idea is no longer a room with a false ceiling that can cave in at any moment. 

He doesn’t give a fuck because he does give one, and he has never known that something as simple as being loved, fully and authentically, was something that would make all the difference. 

Despite not being stressed out nor having a “real” reason to smoke (except for the fact that he’s a creature of habit, and you seem to love the word “addicted” even though he disagrees), he finds himself lifting the window near the fire escape of his apartment and stepping out onto the rusted steps that are less than functional and whips out his lighter and the red cardboard package harboring his cigarettes. 

The lights are off in the apartment and the soft whistling of the heater helps him make sense of the foggy window glass. Chicago is nightmarishly cold in November, yet his body doesn’t seem to mind the teen-digited temperature that plagues the indigo-hued 1 AM sky. 

Carmy loved in living in the city (and the actual city of Chicago and not Naperville or Joliet or Downers Grove like all the other self-proclaimed “Chicagoan” jagoffs that littered the outskirts of the city for sleep, but polluted it for play). 

He liked living in New York City but he loved living in Chicago. New York was too noisy which, he knows, is so fucking ironic given the fact he lives in the heart of all things bustling and boisterous. 

But New York had the kind of noise at night that was isolating; the sounds of cars honking and the squeal of the subway telling the stories of a million different lives of a million different people that he didn’t know. 

New York City is the largest city in the United fucking States, yet a twenty-two-year-old Carmen could not have felt lonelier while he was there. New York City is the perfect city in the United fucking States to go soul-searching in, and yet a twenty-two-year-old Carmen could not have been more clueless about who he was at the time.  

And he’s still figuring out this “thing” called having an identity and finding peace, and he’ll never feel like he knows a whole lot about anything, but he does know two things for certain. 

He fucking loathes feeling lonely and he fucking despises feeling clueless. 

Chicago is noisy, but the kind of noise that sends an irritated streak of comfort down your spine; the hatred of your twin bed and its mismatched sheets in your childhood bedroom, but the comfort of knowing a refreshing and safe sleep is to follow that night. It was the kind of noise that filled living rooms on Christmas Day or the backyard on the Fourth. It was the sound of a vacuum cleaner running on an early Saturday morning during the first week of summer break and the ticking of kitchen timers and arguments and laughter and tears of all kinds. 

He was always reluctant to come back. His pride is something he holds close to his chest but wears with quiet confidence. He would rather die than it seem as if he ran away from New York back home with his tail between his legs. He would rather die than admit to himself that Chicago is where he was meant to be and where he should have always been. He would rather die than admit that through his fucked childhood and even fuck-ier adulthood (Thank you Mikey and Mom and NOMA and Chef David), the city is his safety blanket. 

Carmen hasn’t been back to the house since the incident five Christmases ago. Everyone mutually (and very silently so as to not piss his mom off even more than she always perpetually seemed to be) decided that Christmas Eve dinner is much better suited for Uncle Jimmy’s house. When Natalie called on the phone to let him know about the change of venue the following year, he had known from her tone that another Richter scale meltdown had occurred once their mother found out. 

From then on he found ways to stay away; to stay put and to put his life on hold and it was the closest thing he could get to not breathing with, you know, still actually fucking breathing. 

And it worked for a while. It worked for one thousand eight hundred and twenty-five days, to be exact. 

But then Mikey died and then there was a restaurant and then there was every relative that had ever known of his existence knocking down his door and begging him to let them in; asking him if he was okay and prodding him with questions about any and everything in between his mom driving her car into the fucking house and his brother deciding croaking was better than sticking around this hell hole. 

And it’s crazy, he thinks, how him simply observing the weather and thinking about possibly smoking a cigarette before bed created this rabbit hole of what would usually be the beginning of an anxious spiral. 

Fucking Christ, I need a cigarette. 

His fingers create an unrecognizable beat on the package of cigarettes in his hand and he takes the first step out onto the fire escape. 

Carmen’s body weight bares down on a piece of the wired metal and it groans in protest. The sounds of tires passing through slush on the road create soothing white noise for his ears. The thin blue henley shirt he has on does little to shield the wind from icing his skin, but he doesn’t mind. 

He can’t chance going back inside to fetch his jacket. The coat rack near the front door lies at the end of a pattern of creaks from your apartment’s shitty floorboards. You’re not a light sleeper in any sense of the word (nor are you entirely sober right now), but he knows that he never places that one particularly decrepit plank of wood right, and the noise will jolt you out of your slumber. 

His nimble fingers swiftly pull a cigarette out of the carton. He cups it with his left and uses his right to cradle the flicker of his lighter. The orange flame disappears as fast as it had been kindled and he inhales deeply and his exhale is shallow. 

Carmen had been smoking since he was fifteen, but he never really had a reason to do it other than Mikey did, and it was a way to spend more time with him. It was their little secret; something that was his and Mike’s and something that seemed like a big deal at the time but would mean jack shit the second he turned eighteen. He never really loved the way cigarettes smelled. He could hardly stand the taste and the constant health class lectures about them being bad for your lungs freaked him out. 

But now that he knows what it feels like to have no thoughts in his head and be left alone in the solace of smoking a cigarette in the dead of night, he thinks he gets it. 

The silence is cut in half by the sound of the rickety floorboard groaning out in a warning. He doesn’t have to peek his head inside and look around to know that it’s you. You never sleep well after a night out and even though he had to carry you up the stairs, drag a damp washcloth over your face to remove your makeup, and bribe you to stand up long enough to take out your own contacts, he should have known better than to be anywhere but in bed next to you. 

Your drunkenness has started to fade and you’ve gone down on the meter from “off your ass” to “slightly tipsy.” Him picking you up from your girls’ night at one of the clubs downtown was more than two hours ago, but he figured you would’ve came and found him by now. 

You have such a fear of missing out and while it’s not Carmen’s favorite thing about you, it does warm his heart to know that you want to spend time with him or that you’re scared he’s doing something interesting without you around. He wishes your ‘fomo’ was based on some issue that he could tangibly fix and not on what he knows is your badly bruised self-esteem. It makes his chest heavy that sometimes you can’t see how great you are; that sometimes you don’t understand why he wants you around and loves you so dearly. 

He can hear your footsteps approach the window ledge and he wordlessly holds his arm out for you to grab onto. Your fingers come out from under the blanket you’ve thrown over yourself like a shawl and grasp his like a lifeline. 

Your body effortlessly molds to him; your front pressed to his back and his unoccupied arm pulling you closer like a seatbelt on your waist. The subtle pressure on your midsection comforts you and your body lodged into his helps alleviate some of the sting he’d been suffering from the cold. 

“You’re mad at me,” you speak. Your voice is small and soft; gentle just in case he really is mad at you and this isn’t something your drunk mind conjured up as you lay in bed alone. 

He sighs and turns his head to take another drag from his cigarette. He makes sure that your hair is out of target of his smoke exhale. A subtle whine leaves your throat as he steps away from you and he grins. Carmen loves when you’re like this; when you’re clingy and being near him is never enough to satiate you. 

“M’not,” he says. You shift from one foot to the other and his eyes momentarily gaze down to make sure you put on socks before you come out here to join him.

 Even though he can’t see your face, he knows that the corners of your mouth are posed in a frown. You hate it when he doesn’t elaborate. It makes you feel shut out. He’s not helping his case of denying your accusation. You may just burst into tears if he doesn’t provide more dialogue. 

Your nasty habit of feeling like everyone is upset with you all the time is swelling. His nasty habit of smoking more cigarettes a day than he knows he needs is bulging. 

Another drag from his cigarette. Another exhale of smoke. Another attempt at trying to be better for you. 

“Can’t ever be mad at you, baby. Not with a face like that,” he croons. The words come out of his mouth so easily; endearment dipped in honey and love warmed by sunshine. Adoration is easy when it comes to you. He’s never known a peace like this. 

“Sly dog,” you mutter. The brain fog from the four tequila lemonades you downed earlier makes you slow in finding a smartass thing to say. Carmen fights the urge to poke fun at you because he knows that you’ll take him seriously. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” your words silently praise. 

“You make it easy,” his hold on you acknowledges. 

Your face is numb from the cold and the alcohol making its way through your system. The lips pecking a kiss against your temple can barely be felt, yet you contently hum once the damp seal of them releases the affection you’ve been longing for. He never makes you work hard for his undivided attention when he readily has it. Wordlessness crafts a cradle of comfort for you both. Soulmates in ways that soulmates usually aren’t. 

Another drag from his cigarette. Another exhale of smoke. Another show of actually being better for you. 

A beat of silence passes with the whistling of the wind. 

“Can I try?” your voice is small with unacquired confirmation of what his answer will be. 

He giggles and you’re mesmerized by the way the smoke exhales with each minuscule twitch of his chest. You turn around at the feeling and press your palms to his torso. It’s impossible not to admire him. You’re always starstruck but he makes it easy to be that way when he looks so peaceful and sweet and good. 

Good for you. Good for your heart. Good for each other. 

You make a mental note to tell him that he should wear this shirt more often but know deep down that you’ll forget to do so until it comes back clean in the laundry basket in a week. You need to work on that, you think; telling him that you love him when you feel it. Moments like this don’t last forever, and you fear for the day that the ooey-gooey feelings of love in its purest forms are fleeting. You know that Carmen makes it impossible, but you can never be sure. Much like he, you’re always half expecting the ceiling to cave in. 

“Sweet baby wants to be a smoker?” he chides. He doesn’t feel bad when you flash him a pouty frown. 

“Carm!” you gripe. Your cheek presses to his pec. You hate when he does this; when he can’t give a straight answer. It isn’t something that needs an answer, but the satisfaction of having one, of being connected to him and the inner world of his mind he tries so hard to keep from everyone, would feel nice. 

Carmen’s tattooed hand snubs the cigarette out on the dish left on the ledge of the window. His fingers curl to let his knuckles brush the hair on the top of your head. You try your hardest not to melt into his touch. He’ll have a field day if you let him have the satisfaction of making you visibly weak in the knees. 

“Didn’t even say no yet, sweetheart.” 

“Yeah, but you’re being mean. Just tell me “no” instead of making me suffer.” 

He quirks his eyebrow and brings a gentle hand to guide your chin upwards, forcing you to make eye contact with him.“Well, m’gonna if you don’t lose the ‘tude, baby.” 

The shift in his tone of voice and the forced eye contact sends a beam of warmth down to your stomach. He has a way of leaving little leeway for negotiation and argument. It’s abstract to his everyday life, but that was complicated, you know. When it’s you and him and him and you, there is never a need for a fight for dominance or a clarification of authority. You both understand each other on a level that is molecular. There is never any need for guessing. 

His finger flicks your lip playfully before swiping a calloused thumb gently on the plush of them. You had fought him so hard earlier when he tried to swipe the lipstick and liner you had put on earlier off with a washcloth. He finds it wild that you’re wide awake and coherent after witnessing the mild temper tantrum you had thrown about it not even two hours earlier. 

Carmen spots the gentle gleam in your eyes and his heart instantly softens. He sighs, momentarily taking his hands off of you and reaching back in his pocket for his carton of cigarettes and lighter. 

“Fine, but you gotta light it.” 

The aforementioned cigarette sits unlit between his lips, the end sticking out like an invitation and the filter hid between his teeth like a dirty secret. He half expects you to chicken out when he hands you the lighter. You always freaked out a little about the flame being so close to your fingers. Something about feeling the heat so close to your hand made you insanely nervous and he could never seem to fully understand. 

His expectations are exceeded when your thumbnail crafts friction with the spark wheel and the illuminated peach of his lighter of the month spurs to life. You don’t cup it with your hands to shield it from the wind. You let it grow and shrink as you lift it up to the unlit butt sticking out of his mouth. 

Your eyes watch in childish awe as the wrapped paper gives way and reveals the hearty smell of tobacco and a sunburst of ashes upon making contact with the manufactured heat. You had watched Carmen smoke hundreds of times, but something about seeing it now right in front of you kindles a spark of curiosity deep in your belly. 

“Can’t believe my sweet girl wants to puff on a cancer stick,” he says. You know that he’s joking, but his trying to get you to change your mind strikes a nerve deep within you. 

“You do it so why can’t I?” you huff, agitated with him seemingly withholding the cigarette you so desperately crave. 

“I do a lot of things you don’t do. Doesn’t mean you should be knockin’ yourself out to try ‘em.” 

You roll your eyes. “It’s just one. Don’t be so mean.” 

He pulls the stick from between his lips and creates a perfect “o” ring with the smoke in its wake. A dopey-eyed grin plants a home on his face and his eyes look deep into yours. 

Fucking show-off. 

“All it takes is one to get addicted,” he continues to smoke and the cigarette butt starts to diminish with each puff he takes, “You sure you wanna bite, sweetheart?” 

“One won’t hurt.”

His gaze lowers to your lips and back up to your eyes. “Don’t wanna end up like me. All sad and addicted to cigarettes.” 

“Carmen, please. I just want one,” you huff, lightly pushing his chest away. He moves slightly with your force and has to stifle a laugh. 

“They ever show you Teri the Smoker in health class?” Carmen takes the cigarette out of his mouth and pretends to examine it, faux and forced curiosity at the cylindrical tube sitting between his lithesome fingers. He’s not giving into you on purpose, you know, and he’ll give in eventually, you also know, but him trying to delay the gratification of getting what you want is starting to annoy you more than it usually would. 

“Yes? What does that have to do with anything?” 

He pops it back in his mouth and takes an obnoxiously long drag. “Nothing,” he breathes out the smoke with his statement, “Just funny that you know that and here you are, damn near hands and knees, gagging for a cigarette.” 

“Carmen.” 

He laughs and you can’t help but love the sound. 

“You know, it’s real fucked up of you to ask for a drag from my cigarette that I get with my hard-earned money,” he says and you roll your eyes, “You should know I love you too much to let you stick a cancer stick in your mouth.” 

“It’s just one!” you plead. 

“It’s never just one, sweetheart.” 

“Well, who says’m gonna get addicted like – like you and Teri the Smoker?” 

“The nicotine content on the carton. That’s who.” 

He’s not paying you any attention and it’s starting to ache your heart a little. You know that he’s distracted; that he’s just trying to prevent the ashes from getting on your blanket and from getting the smell of smoke in your hair, but him biting at your insistence a little less than he was previously sends a pang of gloominess through your chest.

“You smoke all the time, and if you get a hole in your throat because of that then you’re so mean.” 

His lips upturn in introspection.“M’mean?” 

“Very,” you answer dryly. 

“Humor me.” 

“Because then I’ll have to live the rest of my life without hearing your voice again and then I’ll be so sad.” 

He shrugs, half knowing that you’re joking but half expecting something more to come out of what you’re getting at. “Ehh, don’t think anyone at the restaurant would miss it.” 

“I would!” 

You smack at his chest again lightly and he remembers how touchy and wild you get after you’ve been drinking. It’s never bad or out of control, but you’re more affectionate than usual and less gentle than you normally are. 

“Yeah, baby? Gonna miss my voice?” 

“Mhm,” you purr, leaning up to get closer to his ear, “Gonna miss how you call me a good girl. And how you whine when I pull your hair and how you tell me that I’m the tightest and wettest little th-” 

“Jesus,” he laughs, playfully pushing the side of your face away as your teeth nibble a tiny bite on the thick of his palm, “Fuck off.” 

You like to play around, too. That’s also something he sees more of after a night out. He never indulges; knows you get too riled up and in your head when it goes somewhere he’s not comfortable with, but he loves it nonetheless. Being together has helped the other not be so scared of permanence. Moments like this confirm what he knows, and he realizes that you’re a saint and he wants to marry you. 

The stuff that comes along with it has been plaguing his mind as of late, but he realizes how little it matters when he sees you all happy and grateful to be around him and doing the most mundane of things. He’ll get you that ring and that house and those babies and the happiest fucking life in a heartbeat, and he’s oddly comforted by the fact that he knows you’ll let him. 

Carmen’s never been the best at not wearing his feelings on his face and you know he’s deep in thought when the banter dies and the whistling of the wind takes its place. You hope he isn’t spiraling. He tends to do that a lot. You tend to feel powerless when it happens. 

Your eyes study his face; the lightness of his irises, the spiral of curls, the slope of his nose. The tequila from earlier remains in your system, but it doesn’t change the fact that you love him so deeply. 

“You know, it’s bullshit that you’re giving me hell about putting a cigarette in my mouth.” Your voice cuts through the quiet and he starts to grin again. 

“Hey, s’only bullshit because you’re sittin’ here beggin’ and then telling me I’m gonna have a fuckin’ hole in my throat from smoking too much.” 

“I never said that it was gonna be bad, Bear. I just said I was gonna miss hearing your voice is all.” 

His free hand comes out to sit on the base of your neck. A calloused thumb draws small semi-circles on the bottom of your hairline. 

“You know, her quality of life was probably amazing,” he speaks, “Like didn’t she have kids and grandkids and friends and shit? Health class is fucked up for making her out to be the ‘throat hole lady’.” 

“You shouldn’t say that,” you grimace and he plants his lips on your forehead. 

“Yeah, you’re right.” 

You make him softer. If it was anyone else, he wouldn’t think twice about how insensitive it had come off. His therapist is always saying people can’t make you better, but she clearly hasn’t met you. 

“But that was kinda the whole point? You shouldn’t want to be like her?” you pause and the frown lines in your eyebrows write “pensive” on your face before you even realize it, “. . .Because she does have a hole in her throat. And her quality of life was just very. . .different?” 

Carmen nods. “They’re fucked up for that.” 

“Jesus, Carm. Do you think smoking is bad or not because you’re giving me soooo many mixed signals here,” you sigh, your forehead moving forward faster than you intended and hitting the bony composition of his collarbones. 

He hums softly; part listening to what you’re saying and part acknowledging that he wants to move on from what you had said. 

“Did you know that your life expectancy goes down by eleven minutes or some shit like that each time you smoke a cigarette?” he swiftly changes the subject. 

You pick your head up and narrow your eyes playfully. “Oh, you don’t even love me enough to let me smoke one so I can be put out of my misery a whole eleven minutes earlier when you die from smoking a gazillion packs a day and leave me all lonely and wrinkly.” 

“I think you’d be hot wrinkly,” he replies matter-of-factly. 

“I think you’d be hot if you let me smoke one.”

“You’re probably not gonna like it.” 

“Okay.” 

“Okay.” 

He realizes that the cigarette has pretty much burned itself out. There’s possibly one or two more drags left before he has to ash it out completely. He debates on whether he should let you have at it or silently take the last two and usher you back inside. If he chooses the former, he knows that he’ll feel bad if you don’t like it, and he worries that your realization will kickstart the unraveling of something almost perfect he’s found for himself. He can’t bear to take another loss in his life. If he chooses the latter, he knows you wouldn’t even be aware that he had smoked it entirely by himself, and that you’ll gripe and complain for the rest of the night and table the conversation for another time when he’s in a less resistive state. 

“Carm, you have to give me a puff from it,” you complain, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

He’s giving in to you. He always does. He doesn’t know why he pretends like he has free will when it comes to you. 

“C’mere,” he beckons your face closer, “And don’t use your hands. You have that blanket on and I don’t wanna have to call Chicago Fire tonight.” 

Carmen lifts his hand up to your mouth and gently laughs when you go cross-eyed to eye the filter sitting in between his pointer and middle fingers. 

“You just inhale, hold it, and then breathe back out,” he instructs. He feeds the filter to your lips before suddenly pulling it back. “Don’t choke yourself out though. That uh – that won’t be good and then you’re really not gonna like it.” 

Your neck extends to get closer to Carmen’s hand and you do what he says. You inhale, hold it, and exhale. You don’t think you’re doing it right (and he knows that you didn’t, but doesn’t say anything because he knows it’ll make you whiny) but you’re satisfied that he trusts you enough to try. 

“Took it like a champ, baby,” he cheers, “So proud!” 

He pushes the butt of the cigarette into the dish and your blanket-covered hands come up to palm his face gently. The plush of the cover feels soft against his stubble-covered cheeks, and your gazes catch each other’s. 

A moment of tranquility. A moment of peace. A moment of love. 

He so desperately wants to marry you. 

[realhotgirlshitah]

Can I request an Ethan x fem Best friend reader where he has like a massive borderline obsessive crush on reader and gets all possessive when she goes on a date and it leads to Dom!Ethan smut??

It can be GF ethan too if you’re into that but if you’re not that’s totally ok(ik some writers dont like to include the canon typical violence for ethan) so either way It will be amazing.

Silent Devotion 🎀

Ethan Landry x female best friend

warnings: nothing too crazy but it’s… filthy! slight degradation and praise, ethan is ofc unhinged as fuck.

FAWK I NEED HIM SO BAD LOOK AT HIM? FUCKING LOOK AT HOW SEXY MY PSYCHO BOYFRIEND IS RAHHHH 🦅

Ethan never really understood why you befriended him.

You, of all people. Gorgeous, popular, confident, and seemingly perfect in every way. It made no sense, not to him, at least. From the first time you spoke to him, something in him shifted. Being Chad’s roommate, he was used to being in the background, overshadowed by the guy everyone wanted to talk to. So, when you tapped him on the shoulder after class one day, he thought he was dreaming.

“Did you understand any of that?” you asked, flashing him that smile he’d been too scared to admit he’d been staring at for weeks.

“I uh—yeah, yeah, I think so,” he stammered, tripping over his own eagerness. “I mean, it’s a bit tough, but I get it,” he corrected himself, trying not to sound like a complete idiot.

You just smiled wider, like you knew exactly what was going on in his head. And that smile? It was enough to send his mind spiraling. He couldn’t stop staring—at your lips, your eyes, the way your laugh sounded like music. You were breathtaking.

“Ethan, right? I see you around with Chad a lot,” you said, tilting your head, clearly amused by his nervous energy.

“Yeah, Chad’s my roommate,” he muttered, wincing internally. He fully expected you to start asking about Chad, like everyone else. Instead, you laughed, brushing off the mention of his roommate like it didn’t matter.

“I don’t know how you live with him. He’s so loud all the time. I’d have already lost my mind. Mindy, though? She’s chill as hell.”

You weren’t interested in Chad. You were talking to him. Ethan felt his heart beat faster. He didn’t even care that he was fumbling for words. You were right there, smiling at him, making him feel seen for once in his life.

“Wanna hang out later?” you asked, leaning in slightly, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. “I could use a friend in this class who isn’t a total condescending asshole.”

Ethan blinked, certain he’d misheard. “Wait—really?” he stammered, barely able to believe his luck.

From that moment, his world changed. It wasn’t just hanging out anymore. You became everything to him. It started small, just study sessions and casual conversations between classes. But the more time he spent with you, the deeper his feelings grew. Obsessed wasn’t even the right word. You were all he could think about. He’d lie awake at night replaying every moment with you, every laugh, every touch, every time you smiled at him like he mattered.

He needed you.

It became suffocating—the way he craved you. You were all he saw, all he wanted. When you laughed at his jokes, he imagined what it would be like to make you laugh while pressed against his chest. When you clung to his arm during horror movies, he fantasized about what it would be like to have you cling to him in the dark, whimpering in ways that had nothing to do with fear.

You became an obsession, and no matter how much he tried to play it cool, it consumed him. The moments you two shared, the simple times you were alone together, only fueled his desires. He’d find himself sitting next to you, watching a movie or talking about nothing important, but his mind was always on one thing: you.

One particular night, it was movie night with the group—Chad, Mindy, Sam, Tara, and you. Horror movies. You hated them, couldn’t even handle a single jump scare, which was exactly why you were practically glued to Ethan’s side.

As the movie started, you cuddled up to him, your arms wrapped around his, your head resting on his shoulder. His whole body tensed when you pressed closer. You smelled incredible, like vanilla and something sweet, something he couldn’t quite place but made him want to bury his face in your hair and never leave. Every time the movie startled you, you would grip him tighter, little whimpers escaping your lips as you buried your face into his arm.

Ethan could barely focus on the screen. His attention was all on you—on how soft your skin felt, how tiny your shorts were, leaving so much of your smooth, warm thighs exposed. His eyes kept drifting down to your legs, imagining how they would feel wrapped around him. The way your boobs were pushed up in that tiny cami top drove him insane. His heart pounded as he pictured his hands slipping beneath that fabric, making you squirm beneath his touch.

Then, there was the sound of your whimpers—those little noises you made every time the movie made you jump. Each one sent a jolt through him, tightening his grip on the pillow he held. All he could think about was how much he wanted to make you whimper for him, to make you moan his name, to hear those sounds when it was just the two of you, when his hands were on your body, not the blanket draped over you.

He couldn’t focus on the movie at all. His eyes kept wandering to your lips, wondering what it would feel like to kiss them. His mind raced with thoughts of pulling you closer, of leaning down and finally making his move. He wanted to be the one to make you feel good, to be the one you ran to, not just because of some stupid movie, but because you wanted him as badly as he wanted you.

Each little touch you gave him, each soft laugh, each teasing comment only pulled him deeper. You were his best friend, but god, all he could think about was what it would be like if you were more. If you belonged to him.

By the end of the night, as you lay practically on top of him, sound asleep after the final movie, Ethan’s mind was a whirlwind. He gently moved a strand of hair from your face, his heart pounding in his chest, barely breathing as he looked down at you. His mind was filled with fantasies of kissing you, touching you, making you his. It was overwhelming. He needed you so badly it hurt.

It’s late afternoon as you and Ethan leave your econ class, falling into step beside each other as usual. The conversation is easy, the kind that flows naturally between best friends. But as Ethan walks next to you, all he can think about is asking you to hang out later. He needs to see you again. He always does.

“So,” Ethan starts, glancing at you with that familiar softness in his eyes, “Wanna come by tonight? We can watch a movie or something. Chad’s out, so it’ll just be us.” His tone is casual, but inside, he’s dying for you to say yes. His dorm is right across from yours, so there’s no reason it shouldn’t happen, right?

But then, you shake your head, lips curving into a little smile that makes his heart sink before you even speak.

“Actually, I can’t tonight,” you say, your voice a little hesitant. “This guy asked me out, so I’m supposed to be going on a date.”

The word “date” hits Ethan like a punch to the gut. His stomach churns, and his vision tunnels for a moment. He forces a smile, though it feels strained. He can’t let you see how much this is affecting him. Not now.

“Oh… cool,” he says, trying to sound indifferent, but the edge in his voice betrays him. He clenches his fist in his pocket, forcing himself to stay calm. “Who’s the guy?” he asks, keeping his tone light, despite the way his insides twist.

You smile, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “Oh, you probably don’t know him. His name’s Ryan, he’s in one of my psych classes. He’s pretty cute, tall, plays lacrosse. We’ve chatted a bit.”

Ethan forces a laugh, but his mind is racing. Tall. Cute. Lacrosse? He fights the urge to scoff, his jaw tightening as he glances at you. “Yeah? Sounds like a real charmer,” he says, trying to keep his voice neutral. He doesn’t want to scare you off by showing how much the thought of you with someone else makes his skin crawl.

You don’t notice the shift in his tone, too caught up in talking about this guy. “He seems nice enough. It’s just a casual thing, we’ll see how it goes,” you add with a shrug, completely unaware of the way Ethan’s nails are digging into his palm.

He doesn’t say much after that, barely able to focus on the conversation as you both part ways for the evening. The image of you going on a date with someone else consumes him, filling his mind with dark thoughts. Every minute that passes, he’s thinking of you—wondering what you’re doing with this Ryan guy, imagining him touching you, making you laugh, maybe even kissing you. It makes his blood boil. He tries to distract himself, but it’s no use. His mind always comes back to you.

Later that night , his phone buzzes. It’s a text from you.

“Hey, wanna come over? My date bailed, and I’m bored. Let’s watch that movie?”

Ethan’s heart leaps in his chest. He doesn’t even think twice. Within minutes, he’s out the door, practically running across the hall to your dorm. His pulse races, and he’s already imagining the two of you alone together—just like he wanted from the start. He knocks on your door, and when you open it, the sight of you makes his breath catch.

You’re wearing those tiny pajama shorts that drive him insane, the ones that barely cover your thighs, and a little tank top that shows off your curves. His eyes can’t help but linger on the way the fabric clings to your body. You don’t seem bothered by the fact that your date didn’t show up—if anything, you seem relaxed, unbothered.

“Hey,” you say with a smile, hopping up to sit on the kitchen island, your legs swinging playfully. “Come in, movie’s ready. What took you so long?” you tease, completely unaware of the storm raging inside him.

Ethan steps inside, trying to keep his cool, but all he can think about is how perfect you look tonight. He’s wearing his usual loose pajama pants and a fitted shirt that highlights the muscle he’s been working on lately. The silver chain you got him for his birthday hangs around his neck, catching the light. He sees the way your eyes flick over him, how you seem to take in the shape of his body, the way his shirt clings to his broad shoulders. And even though you’re sitting on the counter, he still towers over you as he steps closer.

“So, what happened to Mr. Lacrosse?” he asks, his voice low as he moves in, standing right in front of you now. His proximity is deliberate, the tension thickening with every second that passes.

You roll your eyes with a laugh. “He never showed up. His loss, right?” you say, clearly not too broken up about it.

“Yeah, his loss,” Ethan echoes, but internally, he’s thrilled. He’s glad the guy blew it. More time for him. More time with you.

He leans against the counter, and the conversation flows as it always does—banter, jokes, easy laughs—but tonight, something feels different. The air between you is charged. Every laugh, every teasing comment is laced with an underlying heat that neither of you can ignore.

You shift slightly on the counter, crossing one leg over the other, which only draws Ethan’s attention to your bare legs. His eyes drift down to the hem of your shorts, his pulse quickening as he imagines running his hands over your skin. You catch him staring and smirk, but instead of calling him out, you tease him.

“Something on your mind, Ethan?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the way you’ve caught him off guard.

He meets your eyes, and for a second, the playful banter fades. His gaze darkens as he steps closer, standing between your legs now, so close that you can feel the heat of his body. The sexual tension is thick, electric, buzzing between the two of you like a live wire. His eyes drop to your lips, then back up to meet your gaze, and the air around you seems to shift, the playful teasing giving way to something heavier, something undeniable.

“Maybe,” he murmurs, his voice deeper now, rougher, as he leans in just a fraction closer. He can’t help it—his hands are itching to touch you, to close the distance between you, to finally cross that line that’s been blurring for weeks. You’ve always been the center of his universe, but tonight, standing here with you like this, the desire is nearly unbearable.

You tilt your head, looking up at him with those wide, curious eyes. The way your lips part ever so slightly has his mind racing with fantasies. He wants to kiss you, wants to make you moan, wants to claim you in ways he’s only dared to dream about. You don’t pull away, and that small fact ignites a fire in him that he’s barely keeping under control.

As you lean back slightly, letting your fingers brush against Ethan’s chest in a casual, teasing way, you notice how he tenses under your touch, his jaw tightening. There’s a shift in his demeanor, something primal flickering behind those soft brown eyes that you’ve never seen before. You’re used to him being sweet, dorky, even shy sometimes—but this? This is new. You smirk up at him, fully aware of the effect you’re having on him.

“You sure there’s nothing on your mind?” you ask, voice light but dripping with innuendo. You run your fingers down the chain hanging around his neck, playing with it for a moment, before letting them drift lower, barely grazing his chest through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Ethan’s eyes darken even more, his patience hanging by a thread. You can see the internal battle playing out on his face, the tension building to a breaking point. His gaze drops to your lips again, and this time, he doesn’t pull back.

“Keep pushing, and you’re gonna find out,” he mutters, voice thick with desire, low enough that it sends a shiver down your spine. His eyes flicker between your lips and your eyes, like he’s weighing the consequences, but there’s no hesitation anymore—just pure want.

You don’t even have time to respond before he snaps. In a blur of motion, his hands are on you, one sliding around the back of your neck, the other gripping your waist as he pulls you toward him with a sudden, heated intensity. His lips crash into yours, catching you completely off guard, but before you can even process it, a soft, involuntary whimper escapes your throat. The sound flips a switch in Ethan that he didn’t even know existed.

You cling to him, pulling him closer as the kiss deepens, the heat between you building faster than you expected. His hands are everywhere—gripping, tugging, pulling you impossibly closer as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go for even a second. The kiss is desperate, heated, like he’s been waiting for this moment forever, and now that it’s here, he’s determined to make every second count.

Without breaking the kiss, he picks you up effortlessly, his strong hands gripping your thighs as he hoists you up, making you gasp in surprise. You wrap your legs around his waist instinctively as he carries you toward your bedroom, navigating the space with ease, his lips never leaving yours. The way he holds you—like you weigh nothing—sends a thrill through you, making your pulse race even faster.

Ethan pushes open the door to your room with his shoulder, kicking it shut behind him before gently tossing you onto the bed. You bounce slightly, breathless and wide-eyed as you look up at him. For a second, he just stands there, staring down at you, his chest rising and falling heavily. His gaze rakes over your body, drinking you in with a mix of disbelief and hunger, like he can’t quite believe this is happening.

You smirk up at him, teasing even now. “You gonna stand there and stare all night, or…?”

His eyes flash with frustration, a growl rumbling low in his throat as he moves toward you. “You’ve got no idea what you’re doing to me,” he mutters, his voice rough and ragged. He climbs onto the bed, caging you in beneath him, his body hovering over yours. His hands trace along your sides, just light enough to make you squirm.

“You always have to be in control, don’t you?” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin as his lips graze your neck. “Always teasing, always pushing.”

You shiver under his touch, but before you can respond, his lips are on your neck, trailing slow, deliberate kisses down to your collarbone. His hands grip your waist, his touch firm but teasing, not giving you nearly enough pressure to satisfy the heat building inside you. It’s maddening, and he knows it.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” Ethan whispers, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your shoulder, sending chills down your spine. “How bad I’ve wanted you…”

His hands slide up to your hips, tugging at the waistband of your tiny shorts just enough to tease you, but not enough to give you what you want. You arch your back slightly, biting your lip as a soft whine escapes you.

“Ethan…” you breathe, the frustration starting to build in your voice as you shift beneath him, trying to get more contact, more anything.

He smirks against your skin, clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you. “Oh, now you’re the one begging?” he teases, his fingers tracing the edge of your shorts. “What happened to all that confidence, huh?”

You whimper again, the sound more desperate this time, and it’s all the encouragement he needs. His hands move quickly now, sliding your shorts down with ease, and his eyes darken even further as he takes you in, fully exposed and vulnerable beneath him. The look on his face—hunger, disbelief, pure desire—sends a wave of heat through you, making you squirm beneath him.

Without another word, Ethan moves lower, his hands gripping your thighs as he positions himself between your legs. He hesitates for only a second, just long enough to shoot you a wicked grin.

Ethan pauses for a moment, his eyes locked on yours as he hovers between your legs. There’s a glint of something darker in his gaze now, his lips parted slightly as he takes in the sight of you laid out before him. The anticipation is palpable, thickening the air around you both. He runs his hands slowly up your thighs, fingers grazing your skin in a way that sends sparks shooting through your body, making you tremble beneath him.

His gaze flickers upward to meet yours again, and the intensity in his eyes takes your breath away. He leans in, kissing the inside of your thigh—soft, teasing—his lips barely brushing your skin as he moves closer to your core. You can feel his hot breath ghosting over your most sensitive spot, the heat of his mouth almost unbearable. Your breath hitches, and your hips shift unconsciously, desperate for more.

Ethan grins, clearly enjoying how worked up you are, the control he has over your body now. “You look so fucking good like this,” he mutters, his voice rough, almost reverent. “I’ve thought about this so many times… but this? You’re even better than I imagined.”

His words send a jolt of desire through you, but before you can respond, he lowers himself fully, his mouth finally connecting with your heated skin. The first slow drag of his tongue across your folds sends a shockwave of pleasure through you, making your entire body tense and then melt into the bed beneath you. It’s overwhelming—the warmth of his mouth, the softness of his lips, the gentle but deliberate pressure of his tongue moving against you.

You gasp, your hands flying to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft curls as you instinctively push him closer. Ethan groans at the contact, the vibration reverberating through your core and making you cry out. He’s not just doing this for you—he’s savoring every moment of it, completely lost in the taste and feel of you.

Ethan’s movements start slow and measured, each flick of his tongue precise and intentional. He’s exploring, learning what makes you gasp, what makes your legs shake, what has you tugging at his hair in desperation. But as he gains confidence, his pace quickens, his enthusiasm growing with each of your moans, every little sound you make driving him to give you more.

He circles your clit with the flat of his tongue, applying just enough pressure to make you see stars, before he pulls away, only to suck it gently between his lips. The sensation has you bucking your hips against him, the friction almost too much to handle. Ethan tightens his grip on your thighs, holding you steady as he continues to lavish attention on you, his mouth working with an eagerness that’s almost maddening.

“Fuck, Ethan…” you whimper, your voice shaky and breathless, and the sound only seems to spur him on. He groans again, the vibrations sending a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through your body, making you squirm beneath him.

He’s relentless now, his tongue moving faster, more confidently, alternating between soft licks and firm pressure, hitting every spot that has you arching off the bed. He’s a fast learner, picking up on every little movement, every gasp, and using it to push you closer and closer to the edge.

Your grip on his hair tightens as the pleasure builds to an almost unbearable point, your body trembling with need. “Ethan… I-I’m so close…” you manage to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ethan responds with another low, guttural groan, the sound vibrating through you in a way that has you teetering on the brink. His tongue presses harder against your clit now, swirling in tight, deliberate circles, pushing you closer and closer to release. He slides one hand up your thigh, his fingers ghosting over your entrance, and the added sensation makes your entire body tense in anticipation.

You’re trembling, gasping for breath, your body taut with tension as you cling to the edge, and then Ethan’s fingers slip inside you—slow, deliberate—curling just right. The combination of his tongue and fingers has you coming undone in an instant.

Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, ripping a loud moan from your throat as your body convulses beneath him. Ethan doesn’t stop—if anything, he works you through your release, his tongue and fingers driving you higher, prolonging the pleasure until it’s almost too much to bear.

By the time the waves of pleasure finally begin to subside, your body is trembling, your chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. Ethan pulls back slowly, his mouth still hovering over your core as he presses one last, soft kiss to your thigh, his eyes dark and filled with something primal as he looks up at you.

The grin on his face is one of pure satisfaction, his lips glistening with your arousal as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You have no idea how long I’ve been dying to do that,” he murmurs, his voice thick with lust and pride. “And I’m not even close to being done with you.”

Ethan’s gaze darkens as he drinks in the sight of you, still trembling from your release. There’s a sudden shift in the atmosphere, a tangible heat that pulses between you, and you can feel the energy crackling in the air. He rises to his knees, the dominant edge of his demeanor coming into sharper focus, and you realize that he’s only just getting started.

“Look at you, all flustered and needy,” he says, his voice low and teasing, laced with a dark undertone that sends another thrill down your spine. “You really thought I was done with you?”

Before you can respond, he grips your waist with surprising strength, flipping you onto your stomach with a swift motion. You let out a soft gasp, momentarily caught off guard as he manhandles you into position. Your heart races at the sudden change, your body responding to his dominance in ways that leave you breathless.

“On all fours,” he commands, his tone brokering no argument. You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as you comply, pushing yourself up onto your hands and knees, the position feeling both vulnerable and exhilarating. The power dynamic shifts entirely, and you can feel the weight of his gaze on you, filled with both hunger and authority.

Ethan positions himself behind you, and you can feel the heat radiating off his body as he leans closer. His breath is warm against your skin, and he takes a moment to savor the sight of you. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs, the praise mingling with the edge of something more possessive.

You shiver at his words, heat pooling in your core again as he runs his hands along your back, caressing you in a way that’s both tender and commanding. But then, without warning, he smacks your ass playfully, the sound echoing in the room. The unexpected sting takes you by surprise, and you gasp, your body instinctively reacting to the sharp pleasure mixed with a hint of pain.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks, his voice dripping with a mixture of mockery and desire. “To be treated like a little slut? Because that’s what you are—so fucking eager for me to touch you, to make you feel good.”

You can’t help but moan at his words, the degradation sparking something deep within you. You feel both embarrassed and incredibly turned on, your body responding eagerly to his every command.

“Answer me,” he presses, his tone firm, demanding. “Do you want me to take you? To use you like the perfect whore you are?”

“Yes,” you gasp, the heat pooling in your belly intensifying as his words wash over you. The way he talks to you sends jolts of pleasure coursing through your body, and you can feel your arousal growing, pushing you closer to the edge again.

“Good girl,” he praises, and his voice is laced with satisfaction. He leans down closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “You need to remember that you’re mine. I’m going to make you feel so good that you won’t be able to think about anything else.”

With that, he grips your hips tightly, holding you in place as he positions himself behind you, teasingly brushing against you, making you ache for more. “You ready for me?”

“Yes, Ethan, please…” you plead, your voice breathless, longing for him to fill you completely.

He chuckles darkly, clearly enjoying the control he has over you. “Not yet,” he replies, the teasing edge in his voice sending a shiver down your spine. He drags his hands over your body, squeezing your ass possessively, almost too roughly, but the pleasure mingles perfectly with the sting, and it makes you crave him even more.

“Look at you, so desperate,” he taunts, pulling back slightly to admire the view. “You love it, don’t you? Being treated like this. You want me to degrade you, to remind you how much you need me.”

“Ethan…” you whimper, unable to hide the need in your voice.

“Shut up and take it,” he snaps, the sudden bite in his tone sending your heart racing. His hands grip your waist tightly, and with a swift thrust, he enters you in one smooth motion. The sensation is electric, and you cry out, the sudden fullness overwhelming you.

Ethan’s grip on your hips tightens as he begins to move, his thrusts powerful and deliberate. He’s relentless, using you for his pleasure as you melt beneath him, each movement igniting a fire within you. “You feel so good wrapped around me,” he grunts, his voice low and rough with desire. “Just like that. Keep moaning for me, let me hear how much you love it.”

With every thrust, he builds a rhythm, punctuating his movements with the occasional slap to your ass that sends jolts of pleasure through you. You can feel the tension coiling tightly in your belly again, the mix of pain and pleasure pushing you closer to the edge.

“Look at you, taking it so well,” he growls, his voice thick with lust. “I could do this all night. Just you and me, baby,” the whimper you let out is weak, a perfect contrast to the guttural groans he’s letting out as his relentless movements speed up

“You want it harder?” he growls, his voice rough with lust. “You want me to fuck you like you can’t handle it?”

You nod frantically, your hands gripping the sheets for dear life as he pounds into you, his cock slamming deep inside you with each brutal thrust. The sound of it—the slick, obscene wetness, the slap of his hips against your ass—fills the room, and it’s everything.

“Ethan,” you whimper, the pleasure cresting higher with each thrust, his words fueling the fire within you.

“Tell me how much you want it,” he commands, his voice low and rough.

“I want it so bad… I want you,” you gasp, the need in your voice unmistakable.

“Good girl,” he praises, his thrusts growing faster, more frantic. “Let go for me. Let me see how much you need this.”

With his words pushing you over the edge, your body responds instinctively, the tension unraveling as your orgasm crashes over you again. You cry out his name, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure washes through you, completely consumed by the moment.

Ethan doesn’t stop—he keeps thrusting, riding you through your release, his own pleasure building as he watches you fall apart beneath him. “That’s it, just like that,” he growls, the sound of your pleasure driving him closer to his own climax.

Ethan’s grip on your hips tightens as he flips you onto your back, a sudden shift in power that sends a thrill of excitement through you. The look in his eyes is intense, a dark hunger that ignites a fire deep within you. He hovers over you, his body pressing you down into the mattress as he lines himself up with your entrance, teasing you just enough to keep you on edge.

“Look at you,” he growls, his voice low and filled with a possessive edge. “So eager for it, and yet you were supposed to go out with Ryan? Pathetic.” His tone drips with mockery, and you can feel the heat rise in your cheeks, but there’s something exhilarating about his dominance that makes your pulse race even faster.

You bite your lip, trying to contain the moan threatening to escape as he slowly pushes into you, filling you completely. He’s rougher than before, and it sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. Each thrust is deeper, harder, and more relentless than the last, making you gasp and arch your back in response.

“Did you really think he could ever compare to me?” he taunts, his breath hot against your ear as he begins to pick up speed. “You’re mine now, and I’d get rid of anyone who thinks they can have you. I’d kill for you, you know that? Anyone who comes near you is dead in my eyes.”

His words resonate through you, a mixture of thrill and arousal as he continues to move within you, each thrust igniting a new wave of pleasure. You can’t help but moan, the sound escaping your lips unbidden as you feel yourself getting lost in the sensation of him inside you. It’s as if he knows exactly how to push your buttons, how to bring out the wildness in you that craves this raw, unfiltered connection.

“I’ve been fantasizing about this since the moment we met,” he confesses, his voice rough and filled with need. “Every laugh you shared, every little tease… I imagined bending you over, taking you like this, showing you just how good it feels to be mine.”

You can barely process his words, lost in the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you. Your body responds to him, to his every thrust, every whisper, and you can feel the heat pooling in your core, ready to explode at any moment.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your neck as he continues to pound into you, relentless and dominating. “You’re so fucking hot,” he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. “I want you to know that no one else can make you feel like this. No one can take care of you like I can.”

Ethan’s movements become more frantic, his breath coming in heavy pants as he pushes you closer to the edge. “I’d do anything to keep you. Anyone who gets in my way doesn’t stand a chance. You’re too perfect for them, too good to be with someone who can’t appreciate you like I do.”

You feel a rush of excitement at his words, the combination of dominance and desire swirling within you, making your body ache for more. You reach up, tugging on that silver chain right above your face before tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him down to capture his lips with yours, a desperate need driving the kiss.

Ethan deepens the kiss, pouring all of his pent-up longing into it, and you can feel the heat of his body against yours, the intensity of his desire almost overwhelming. He pulls back slightly, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. “You understand what I want, don’t you?” he whispers, his voice a low growl.

“Y-Yes,” you manage to breathe, your body aching for him, desperate for the release he’s promising.

“Good,” he replies, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he resumes his pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. “Then let’s see just how much you can take.”

With that, he plunges into you harder, faster, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, pushing you closer to that precipice. You can feel yourself spiraling out of control, every part of you aching for that release he’s teasing you with.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he demands, his eyes dark and filled with a possessive fire as he grips your wrists, pinning them above your head. “Tell me you want this, that you want me.”

“I’m yours,” you cry out, the words tumbling from your lips in a desperate rush. “I want you, Ethan! I want this!”

His eyes flash with triumph at your confession, and he thrusts into you with renewed fervor, his body pushing you to the edge of ecstasy. You can feel the coil inside you tightening, and with every thrust, you’re closer to unraveling, ready to fall apart in his arms.

“Then come for me,” he commands, his voice low and seductive, and you know you can’t hold back any longer. With one final thrust, you explode around him, your body shaking as pleasure washes over you, leaving you gasping and trembling beneath him.

Ethan follows closely behind, his own release spilling into you as he groans your name, his body collapsing against yours as both of you ride out the waves of pleasure together.

As the last remnants of your orgasm fade, he pulls back slightly, looking down at you with a mixture of awe and possessiveness. “You’re incredible,” he breathes, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek. “I’d do anything to keep you like this—forever.”

You can’t help but smile at his words, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you as you realize that you’re not just a fleeting fantasy for him; you’re something real, something he wants to hold onto.

Ethan however, is still reeling at the fact he has his dream girl in his arms, completely unoblivious to how serious he was while fucking her dumb. The feeling was so incredible, he almost felt guilty about what he did to that dumb jock Ryan.

Almost.

[pyreo]

I'm comparing the Dungeon Meshi manga to episodes I just watched and now I gotta capital-p Post about this one episode (spoilers past Episode 12)

So this part is an emotional side-step from the central throughline so far - Laios and Marcille got Falin back successfully and reunited, and they got that payoff from the very beginning where they thought it would be impossible. But Chilchuck is very much a part of these layers of development, so after that dragon finally dies, we stop for a second - Laios and Marcille are recovering, Falin has disappeared again - how does Chilchuck feel at that point?

It's the perfect stage to insert that because he didn't really share in that sense of victory in the same way as Laios and Marcille recovering someone extremely close to them. And that's on purpose because he keeps everyone at arms' length. As soon as that arc hits its end and Falin is recovered, there's at last space to ask - why is Chilchuck even here.

He's asking himself that through the chapter. Now that they've lost the person they intended to save, he regrets agreeing to come.

And starts shouldering responsibility for everything ending up this way. We saw that when he got stuck in the mimic room before - he refuses to let himself ask for help, or he'll try to take burdens alone to lessen relying on others. The original Touden Party was six people, and when Laios insisted on going back underground they were two, and he knew they would die, and figured maybe, maybe if they were one more, with his skillset, maybe they'd have a chance. He couldn't let them walk back down just to die.

And he's going back to that mindset - their lives are on me. He thinks he could have prevented this if he'd chosen differently. Essentially, the walk alongside the orc woman is him working through a guilt spiral.

He sees a second chance to correct that mistake of joining the party. He wants them out now, before they die. The orc asks him how they defeated a dragon and, in explaining it, he reminds himself of all the risky, ridiculous things they had to do, and he isn't satisfied with just getting lucky. Laios got his foot bitten off, on purpose! This proves to him that if they go any further they will not survive. And he hints at this dissatisfaction a couple chapters later, wishing his teammates prioritised things other than winning at all costs...

Like, obviously. The point of this chapter is Chilchuck pretending to be a self-serving coward. To the point where others react with disdain, even disgust, towards him because he wants to lie to Marcille and Laios to ensure they turn back. He's desperate to get out of a hopeless situation by any means necessary, and will destroy his standing in the group in a blink if it means nobody else dies. He has to go on a stupid mental health walk for his stupid mental health and talk through his little bout of panic and doubt.

'You called me a coward so don't be surprised when I act accordingly'

He needs someone very blunt to tell him 'dude you're not being a coward for wanting your friends to get out of hell alive. you're a coward for making excuses instead of honestly telling them your concern is genuine' and he BSODs about it. He needs to rant and externalise that frustration over their recklessness at a third party. He needs to scream that they are idiots because he's the only one for which the ends don't justify the means and he can't keep losing his mind over everyone's safety. Down to a point, the orc praises their ability to survive the explosion from the dragon's fuel sac, and it only justifies Chilchuck - Falin didn't even know she could cast the spell that stopped them all being killed, and they cannot continue getting lucky like this.

Anyway. The reason I stopped to think about it was this part-

Where he recovers Laios's monster-infused sword. The thing that made their situation in the dragon fight go from bad to worse, that he swore at Laios for in every language he knew. The most angry we'd seen him. And now he calmly picks it up and praises it for being the only one of them smart enough to make a run for it.

He's projecting, obviously. He's internalising the label of 'coward' and changing himself to fit it. And, look at him, he's so tired of this. It's evidence of his sheer exhaustion that his anger immediately disappears and he actually gives it a compliment. Him and Laios's sword, the group cowards, the only one who agrees with him.

Then, because he had a walk before getting into the argument, he's organised his feelings and drops all the walls and pretense and just says it.

There's a rule of writing where you contrast your high energy sequences with parts that are slow and mundane, to make the difference more apparent. I think that's why I like this bit so much. The fight against the dragon is long, and the emotional stakes are enormous. Right after that we have the bath scene with Falin and Marcille, and Laios ruffling Falin's hair, and this part that pauses everything to explore the stuff that Chilchuck finally needs to say. And it's wrapped in this neat little solemn journey to pick up their supplies and remember how it felt when all five of them had a meal around a real dinner table at last.

And because he doesn't resort to individualistic trickery, because he explains his point as a duty of care rather than pitting himself against the others, he gets backed up. Senshi agrees that they don't have the supplies to continue, and the orc lady mentions her brethren will return later and can give them support, all of which together breaks down Laios's singleminded devotion to his cause.

Personally I think the manga's better suited to comic timing, but in the anime you can get fleshed out little moments, like Laios's face journey as he realises the other three are making a good case for their survival.

This was my favourite part so far, and I like how both Chilchuck-centric episodes have separated him from the others. Because he won't reveal anything he's thinking otherwise. lmao

[dykeknightrises]

US

A/N: I'M BACK! This is the third and final piece of the falling series, finally making it's appereace! While I'm not super happy about it (which is probably because I feel a bit weird writing dialogue and this one has much more than the last two), I feel like this is the closing I wanted for it! I truly hope you guys enjoy it!

PART 1: FALLING

PART 2: PROMISES

Having Alexia look at you like that took your breath away. Her hazel eyes looking at you like you were the only thing in the world gave you goosebumps. It wasn’t until a frown made it’s way to her forehead that you realized she was talking to you.

“I said: ‘I was hoping we could have our usual Thursday? I have a lot that I need to say to you.’” She said, before frowning ever deeper before adding, “Where are you going? It’s Thursday.”

“D-Date. I’m going on a date right now.” You replied, cursing the stuttering at the hasher tone she used on the last sentence.

“I didn’t know you were going on a date today.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was supposed to inform the team captain of such personal affairs.” You snarked back.

“That’s not what I meant and know it.”

“I don’t know, Alexia. For the past few months, we’ve only spoken as teammates. I don’t think it was wrong of me assume that this is how we were now, nothing more than teammates.”

“This is not fair, Y/N. You said we were okay.” Alexia gritted, pushing past you into your apartment.

“I thought we were too! I wasn’t the one who kept cancelling every week.” You scoffed.

“But you can’t just go in date like that!” she bit back.

“Excuse me? You know what, forget about it. Just leave, captain.”

“I can’t! I can’t let you go on that date before I tell you how I feel!” The Catalonian yelled.

“The last thing I need is to hear how much you don’t care about me!” You yell back, pushing past her and leaving her alone in your apartment.

***

The blonde’s words rang in your ears as you drove late to the date. The restaurant wasn’t very far, but you chose to drive to ground yourself. The argument with the Spaniard and the quick conversation that followed made her eyes turn glassy as she blinked to try to see the traffic better.

Trying to find the teammate that Leah set you up with was a downward spiral. Not being able to locate whoever it was, Y/N could feel the stress and the frustration leak through her cracks. A hand gripping your shoulder brought you back to the moment, making you turn and face soft brown eyes.

You could feel the warmness emanating from your former teammate as she enveloped you in a tight hug. Dressed in a high waisted pants, a very nice blouse and ready to kill, Lia Walti stood smiling at you.

“Leah outdid herself this time.” The Swiss laughed with you.

“Now a lot of things are making sense.” You agreed.

Following your friend to the table the English captain reserved for you two, it was easy to lose yourself in the conversation, as you caught up. It wasn’t easy, however, to do it completely, with a very specific person occupying such a bug part of your thoughts.

“Do you want to talk about her or are you pretending she doesn’t exist?”

“The second option.” You pout back.

“Well, I know why Leah set this whole thing up but, in all fairness, I’m not ready to go all in again. With how things ended between me and her, it still stings, you know? I mean, the whole summer fling was nice, but ‘real world’ wise I’m not there yet.”

“Oh, thank God. I’d hate to ghost you after this.” You joke at her, making her roll her eyes.

“Asshole!” She laughed, throwing a balled-up napkin in your direction.

With the underlining expectation of the night becoming nothing than a hang out between friends, you two relaxed considerably and dug deeper into the mess she had been in and the one you were now.

Dropping her off in her hotel after you both agreed on telling Leah the date was great so she wouldn’t set up either of you again, at least for a while, you drove back home. Talking to Lia about Alexia was very good, as she was removed enough from the situation to have convinced that maybe the last thing you yelled to the Catalonian was unfair.

With that happy though in mind, you got ready to bed, preparing yourself for an unruly night filled with Alexia, as usual.

***

Having a flat tire on your way to the Camp Nou was most certainly not a part of your plan and only served to make a bad day even worse. First you missed you alarm after only being able to sleep as the sun started peeking from the horizon. Then, you ran out of literally everything that was your usual breakfast food for Game Day. And now, a flat tire after already being late. Yay.

Leaving the car after parking and now even glancing checking where you were, an Uber arrived only a few minutes after and dropped you off on the wrong side of the stadium. Another check for bad day.

“I’m so sorry I’m late! The alarm, then the food, then the car, the Uber…” You apologized to Jona and the rest of you team, after finally making to the Locker Room.

“Uhh, don’t worry, Chica Amante!” Lucy teased.

“Oh, how do you say that in Swiss German?’ Mapí joked.

The team quickly joined in, clearly having heard details from Lucy and Keira, who Leah unquestionably gossiped to. Rolling your eyes, you started getting ready. It didn’t scape you that the only person who didn’t join in was Alexia, who had been lacing the same boot since you walked in.

“Ohh, Y/N, you can be late for game after a deliberate session of Seven Minutes in Heaven in the closest empty room!” Someone joked.

“Bonus if you don’t need all the minutes!” It was added.

As the girls kept poking fun, you could see Alexia get more and more tense, until she finally got up rather abruptly, mumbling something about needing more tape. As she closed the locker room door behind her, the glassiness in her eyes made the decision you had been struggling since the day before much easier.

After not finding the older woman in the most obvious spots, Y/N went to their spot, the little Video room for any last-minute adjustments. Alexia was sitting in the first row, right in front of the projector, as if she was waiting to watch a game tape.

The blonde had her head down, on her hands, shoulder shaking, and sobs barely muffled by her hands. Choking down her own sobs at how hurt Alexia was, Y/N made her was quickly through the room, sitting next to the Spaniard, pulling her into a hug.

“Shh… First, we get thought this, then we talk.” You whisper, cutting her protests.

With her safely tucked in your arms, you two stayed like until she was ready. Holding her for what felt like forever, Y/N felt more in peace than she had felt in the past months.

A small part of her brain kept reminding her that this was one of the most important game of their careers, but Alexia was far more important. It was almost a full hour before the Spaniard was ready, slowly untucking herself for the safe spot that hid her from the world. It was several minutes later before she even managed to look in your direction. It was even longer before she spoke.

“I’m sorry.” The blonde broke the silence, with her voice trembling and oh-so-quietly that Y/N had to strain her ears to hear it properly.

“Alexia…”

“No, I’m sorry. For everything, really. You deserve so much more than what I’ve done to you.” She whispered, before adding with a broken voice. “I-I hope the date yesterday went well.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m stupid.”

“Alexia.”

“I was scared. After Jenni, I was completely broken. Then I let myself open up and she broken me too. Hell, a part of me was still broken when you came along. In the beginning of the year, I promised myself that right now I just needed to focus in getting better, so I closed myself for any shred that could lead into something more. But then you came and made me yours without me even realizing. When I did, I got terrified. I-I was certain that you would break me too, but I couldn’t take it. Not from you.” She cried softly.

“So, you took a step back before I could do anything?”

“Yeah. I thought that if you didn’t know you couldn’t break me too.”

“Ale…”

“No, it’s okay. I can get over it, is not even your fault that I completely fucked everything up.”

“Well, I really hope you don’t. I spent almost the entire “date” yesterday talking to Lia about you, about how much I love you.” You said, caressing her jaw, getting yourself lost on her honey gaze.

“Oh…” She gasped. “But..”

“Well, we agreed on telling everyone it went well because we were not interested in doing that again, but with a stranger. Neither one of us were ready to move on.” You chuckled.

“Can I kiss you? Please?”

You nodded, leaning forward, and meeting her lips. In that moment, everything was right again. Hearing her breath get caught up, her hands caressing your waist, the warmness of her skin. Everything was Alexia. You were undoubtedly hers.

Getting lost on her was far too easy. It always was. It took you every ounce of self-awareness too pull back, only to be allowed after a shred of pecks and nips. Eyes closed, breathing the same puffs of air being expelled from your heavy breathing, you felt like you were dreaming again. Too afraid to open your eyes and wake up, you remain basking in her.

“Can I have another chance? I need to make it right, to be yours and make you mine forever.” Alexia asked, hazel eyes looking through heavy hoods, as if you’re the only thing in the world.

“I don’t know if I trust you.” You whisper, feeling you vision blur though unshed tears.

“That’s okay. I want to earn it back, it’s the most important thing for me. I want your permission to work for it, but if you don’t want it, I swear to leave you alone.”

“Don’t you dare doing that.” You tell her, kissing her cheek.

You two stay there for a few more minutes before getting up, finding you way back to a very panicked locker room. Turns out that vanishing for over an hour right before a match made everyone very worried.

Making up with Alexia was easily the peak of the day but beating Lyon and kicking them out of the Champions League in a packed Camp Nou, after losing to them on the away game, with you two having the game of your lives surely made its way as a second peak of what started out as a bad day.

The next few months were spent with you two thick as thieves once more, the team back on the comfortable routine. It was the next year’s pre-season when you gave her the green flag that you trusted her, and it was exactly a few after she gave you a bar of you favourite chocolate that she asked you to be her girlfriend. It was also then that she told you that she bought all the chocolate of her favourite store.

The Sun made you feel warm, loved, cared, cozy, at home, yourself and so many more things that you weren’t quite sure that could be described as feelings. But right now, buried under and completely surrounded by everything her on their home, Y/N would vow on whatever entity that existed that Alexia the Sun itself.

[raayllum]

scene of all time. to me

I'm gonna be circling back to Rayla and Callum's argument/talk over the dark magic use over and over again in the next 6ish months (if not years) so this is not all of it, but everything I feel ready to articulate right now. Let's go

First off we have Rayla's concern being at the forefront of her mind — dark magic almost seemingly killed him the first time, "it puts [his] life in terrible danger," she wants to protect him and doesn't want him to be hurt, etc. Callum tries to put moral qualms onto her (and we'll get to his in a second) and see if that's her reasoning, but Rayla doesn't take it cause she hit that turning point way back in 2x08 / 2x09.

I also think the framing of "Because it makes you vulnerable to the thing you're most afraid of" is interesting, because I don't really believe Callum when he agrees.

Between "I think deep down I knew, I just hoped if I didn't think about it" and "When you were under the ice I was so scared, I thought I was going to lose you like we lost her" and "I'm afraid that he'll use me [...] and hurt people I care about," I think what Callum is most afraid of is Ezran or Rayla dying. Full stop. After all, he was more unwilling to live in that reality than he was in one where Aaravos took him over.

Gonna talk about her asking why in a bit, wanna talk about Callum's outburst and dismissal first.

C: It doesn't matter. I did it, I'm ruined, it's too late for me, who cares?

He spirals hard with his anger and upset over everything, and you can tell by her face how worried she is. Even the fact that Callum looks away from her repeatedly in this scene, similar to how he avoided looking at her when she first came in 4x03, to have those emotional walls and distance up. It likewise makes me think of Callum insisting "There has to be a way to make it right" in 1x02 only for Harrow to inform him "No, it's too late for that". There's also some semblance of "well I made my choice so I'm just Like This now" that we saw/see from Viren (and Aaravos) as well, which of course isn't true, but that's how it feels. Why Callum is so adamant about this is another thing I'll get to in a minute.

But contrast the "I'm ruined" with Rayla's "you're a good person Callum, maybe the goodest" in a couple of episodes, and the "who cares?" when Rayla is right there, caring about him as he pulls a, well, her of sorts.

Then we have Rayla reaffirming for the 4th time that she wants to know why Callum would keep doing something that's dangerous, that hurts him, that puts him in terrible danger (almost like how she Leaves to protect him or uses herself as a shield constantly or something).

What is his 'good reason' (5x01) because the only thing that makes sense to her is that he'd have one? What could Possibly be worth that cost and level of risk to him, of the thing she believes he's scared the most of?

Wasn't the one she was expecting, we can say that much.

C: Finnegrin was going to kill you. I didn't have a choice, because... I would do anything for you.

Now, there's two ways to read the above line. You can read it as Callum trailing off in "I didn't have a choice, because..." his love for her compelled him to act, and there was no other option he was willing to consider. This best fits with the condensed/cut lines from Finnegrin's Wake of "It seems to me like love has a tighter grip on you than those chains around your wrists, so I'll do you a favour and set you free" where Callum could either lose Rayla but 'be free' or keep loving her and stay 'chained'. Then, "I would do anything for you" is a reaffirmation of how he feels and his vow of sorts to her. This is the one I lean towards if I had to pick definitively between them.

The second way we can read the line is "I didn't have a choice because I would do anything for you," which is that his capacity for the 'anything' removes his agency. This is definitely the one that's in line with the mindset of dark magic creates, which is that if I can do something, if I can save/help/protect/cure someone, then how can I not, no matter the cost or sacrifice?

Rayla processes the reevaluation of the vow and its boundaries.

He did it for her, risked all of that and himself for her, in order to save her life. "Am I supposed to thank you?" And I think again we see the parallels between her leaving to protect him, and how she would've rather died than have Callum use dark magic again (as she's about to say in a minute) but this really stood out to me in comparison to Viren and Claudia and Viren and Soren later this season.

Claudia mandates "You have to stay! You have to [do what I want]! I saved you! You owe me your life!" in 6x01. We learn in 6x06 what, precisely, Viren did to save Soren's life, and Soren then offers up his heart to Viren for Katolis in 6x08, something in Claudia's vein of logic (though not to her herself) Viren would be entitled to. But Viren, and Callum, make it clear that Soren and Rayla don't owe them anything just because the two mages saved their lives with dark magic.

Then Rayla switches gears and gets to the heart of the matter.

Now this was really exciting to me for a few reasons. The first is that I always wanted the "Make the sacrifice" angle from Viren-Aaravos in 5x09 to come back around for Rayla and Callum in a future season since I love that fourway foils dynamic a lot. Rayla refusing to kill him, and Callum refusing to let her be killed/sacrificed in some other manner. You don't have characters say shit like this (nor have this be what causes Callum to stumble and the ship starts breaking) unless you plan on going there for both of them, which is likewise what I've always wanted since even before S4 came out. The fact that this is also spearheading us to talk about Rayla's ideas of sacrifice and of herself ("Cause I know you Rayla, you never do anything for yourself") is especially beautiful and exciting.

Ergo, this argument is the scene of all time. To Me.

[menlove]

[image id: an ask from @harbingerofskulls that reads: "im gonna b real i only knew the jerking off i would love to hear you elaborate more if you want to go on the whole situation" /end id]

answering here so i can save as a draft without risking the ask disappearing bc tumblr's been doing that lately but

oh god </3 for everyone else- it's talking about this post. sooo i'm gonna go through each one bc i've been feeling insane for several weeks. i'll do my best to cite my sources lmao

i don't know (johnny johnny)

this is referring to this unreleased VERY early beatles track from 1960. the audio quality is absolute shit & as such unfortunately people love to put words to it that don't make much sense in either direction (i.e a lot of mclennon fans want to hear "you're in love with me" and a lot of people that hate mclennon will just make up the weirdest lyrics that make 0 sense so it's Not Gay). some of the lyrics that ARE clear make it obvious this song is about the two of them running away together- at one point i'm fairly certain paul says "how am i gonna tell my father that we're leaving town?" probably referring to them leaving to hamburg. which would be fine but some of the other lyrics areeeee..... very..... Hm. like multiple times paul refers to john as "my boy" and there's bits of them talking about not knowing what to tell their friends & wanting to just run off together alone. if i were the other members of the band having to record this i would have killed them with hammers <3 also the entire end is just paul going "oh johnny" like 1 million times. okay. sure. also since the lyrics ARE so garbled i mean i guess people could be right about it saying "how am i gonna tell my father you're in love with me" but i just don't hear it. still, a very gay song about running off together and getting away from everything and everyone, complete with moaning the other's name </3

2. paris

this one is a huge part of McLennon Fandom Lore lmao but for good reason. not citing sources on all this bc it's one of those that's just Fact & can be found in like any beatles biography or thebeatlesbible.com (my savior) but. for john's 21st birthday, he got 100 pounds from a rich relative. instead of taking his girlfriend or any of his other friends, he decided to use the money to take paul to spain. but they stopped in paris on the way and just decided to stay there. which i mean like. taking your best friend over your girlfriend to the city of love is a little weird but it's not THAT weird. it's everything else that makes people want to chew glass about it. including some of the other things on this list. like this audio of john just goofing around singing about paris and paul, with such hits as "my cheri, my pau pau my pau paul." which is :| okay best friend. and paul has this picture hung up in his house that he took of john sleeping in paris. okay. sure. why not. (although ig there's some doubt about if the photo is from paris? either way it's a picture paul took and has framed in his house which is incriminating enough my man). also NOT in the original post but may pang, a woman john had a brief affair with in the 70s, wrote a book called loving john. in it, there's this quote:

After a late lunch, Linda launched into a long paean to the joys of living in England. When she was finished, she turned to John and said, “Don’t you miss England?”

“Frankly,” John replied, “I miss Paris.”

okay! also in an interview once he said:

The thing was all the kissing and the holding that was going on in Paris. And it was so romantic, just to be there and see them, even though I was twenty-one and sort of not romantic. But I really loved it, the way the people would just stand under a tree kissing; and they weren’t mauling at each other, they were just kissing.

(interview with david scheff for playboy in september 1980)

3. if i fell

this one i already made an insane post on that started my spiral into posting about the beatles publicly </3 but, essentially, the song "if i fell" by john is..... well it's most likely about paul. he said it wasn't about his wife but that it was auto-biographical and he never really had any public affairs that weren't flings, certainly not a lover. but most damning is he wrote the complete lyrics for the first time on a valentine's day card addressed "to paul with love" with some hearts and arrows pointing to where the lyrics were written. absolutely insane. made me insane.

4. oh! darling

rawest paul song of all time if i do say so myself lmao. but it's just.... Highly Suspicious, that's what it is. a Lot of beatles fans/historians will admit this song is most likely about john but they won't admit that it's fucking romantic if it is. like.

like that is so blatantly romantic idk what to say other than that. also, in the official recording on abbey road, there's Several points where paul says "darling" that sound more like he's saying "johnny" which is what he called him. people brush it off by saying it's his accent, but there's a very clear difference between when he's saying "darling" and when he's saying "johnny". i mean the Lore behind this is that it was written right when things were splitting up between them (& the rest of the band) so it makes sense and it's why most people are willing to accept it's about john. it's just insane to me that they'll accept it's about john without considering the implications of that.

5. the real life demo

this one made me want to light myself on fire i won't lie to you. but here it is! john had a song called "real love" and this is a very early demo of it. but instead of the lyrics that came to actually be in the song (which are thought to be about yoko but let's not get into the fact that it was on a tape labeled "for paul" but whatever), it includes john fucking crying as he sings saying:

"was i just dreaming or was it only yesterday? i used to hold you in my arms. and now a baby and another on the way... la la la la farm..."

which can quite literally be about no one else but paul, as this demo was recorded when he'd just had two children with his wife linda and linda was pregnant with their third child. they'd moved to a farm in scotland. hearing this audio clip did genuinely make me want to lie down in the dirt for a week. also "i used to hold you in my arms" just... yeah. god. when people think it was unrequited idk what to say, really.

6. If Paul Were A Woman-

shoving these two together but. in april of 85, paul said in an interview about john and yoko's relationship:

"I mean, I couldn’t stand in the way of someone who’d fallen in love. You can’t say, 'Who’s this?' You can’t really do that. If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and…"

okay bestie <3 and what would make your relationship different if you were a woman? interesting! and yoko had something similar to say. in this audio, she says:

"I’m sure that if he had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat – because there’s something definitely very strong between John and Paul."

just reminds me of being a kid and telling my best friends "if i were a boy i'd date you" lol. incredible. does anyone here know about bisexuality.

7. stuart!

not much to say here except that john had a best friend, stu sutcliffe, who died young & before that had been the bassist in the band. paul fucking hated him sooo much oh he SEETHED. a lot has been written on that relationship but it was.... very interesting to say the least. it could have just been about the band, or just jealousy over john's friendship, but take that with a lot of john biographers suspecting john had feelings/even a sexual relationship with stuart and it paints a very Interesting picture to say the least

8. john's bisexuality

here's a compilation of quotes about it, but john was more than likely bisexual. which has nothing to do w paul, really, but more to do against people that like to claim they were both Heterosexual Men. although an interesting quote in this compilation is him saying he's "had paul" lmfao

9. paul's post-beatles work

there's just.... there is so so so much here i don't even know where to begin. @ringompreg has a good compilation of paul songs here. a lot of them do take a bit of Lore but like..... it comes down to the fact that both him and john have/had admitted many times to using their lyrics during The Breakup Years to talk to/reference each other and sooooo many of these lyrics are insanely blatant. the two i mentioned were tug of war and let me roll it, both of which are acknowledged to be about john by most people WITH NO ONE BOTHERING TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE IMPLICATIONS OF THAT which..... tug of war has this:

we could stand on top of the mountain with our flag unfurled? dancing to a beat played on a different drum? this is what gaylors think gaylor conspiracy is but paul mccartney is really out here saying this shit.

and let me roll it is so fucking blatantly romantic but every reviewer is like haha! what a cool song that's "making fun" of john and clearly in his style! like are straight people stupid genuinely. anyway:

bonus to that but about JOHN'S solo work :)))))) he wrote a song called "watching the wheels" and when you consider he very much responded to MANY of paul's solo stuff it's :)

which as a response to let me roll it would just be... so devestating but it may be a stretch idk if i'm onto anything there it's just worth Mentioning

and there's a lot of others, a lot of them in that post up there. like far too many where paul mentions falling in love with a friend like Alright.

10. paul's first lsd trip with john/"i know" "i know"

this one is less blatantly romantic but it is just insane. here's an article. and a quote from george martin about it. the first time paul tripped on acid w john was bc john accidentally took some and he took him home & then took acid w him bc he didn't want john to be alone on the trip :( but, notably:

"And we looked into each other’s eyes, the eye contact thing we used to do, which is fairly mind-boggling. You dissolve into each other. But that’s what we did, round about that time, that’s what we did a lot," the singer recalled, "And it was amazing. You’re looking into each other’s eyes and you would want to look away, but you wouldn’t, and you could see yourself in the other person. It was a very freaky experience and I was totally blown away."

he also apparently saw john as the, and i quote, "emperor of eternity" during this trip??????? okay

SOMEWHERE i can't find it rn and i'm getting lazy but somewhere they (i think paul?) talk about the fact that they used to just stare into each other's eyes and then say "i know" "i know" which. considering john's song "i know (i know)" makes me crazy

11. in my life/i will

these are really just some devastating songs with lyrics that make you really raise your eyebrows. for in my life, written by john, it's just an incredibly romantic & sweet song that is again, not about his wife. given that the lennon estate is still out here posting pictures of paul to those lyrics i have to say it's a liiiiittle suspicious. and i will is...... it's one that paul insists is not about his girlfriend at the time, jane asher. and when you look at the lyrics vs how him and john met.... like. the song goes:

and the story of how they met was that paul saw john repeatedly before they ever met, when he didn't know who john was other than that he thought he looked cool & admired his sideburns (lmfao). and when they did finally meet, it was when john was singing at a garden fete (party) and paul was in the crowd just Mesmerized. so. well. you can see.... you can see how fitting that is. makes me crazy makes me want to chew glass actually

12. "we were each other's intimates" and other insane quotes

"we were each other's intimates" is a paul quote about john which is just insane but that's not even the tip of the iceberg. here's a ton of quote compilations.

13. "literally everything else"/honorable mentions

some honorable mentions go out to: john going on stage w elton john & playing i saw her standing there and introducing it as "a song by an estranged fiance of mine" okay! the "just like starting over" demos. okay! which isn't even to MENTION the fact that paul locked himself away in the studio listening to "just like starting over" on repeat for DAYS after john died like???? john saying repeatedly that he considered paul & yoko to be his two major partners in life including in an interview the literal day he died. a whole ass rpf movie where they kiss & talk like they're ex-lovers and dance in central park (two of us) made by the same dude that made the let it be movie like. he knew them personally? he worked with them closely? and the only thing paul had to say about it was just essentially that it was what he wished would've happened like???????? i can't find a super reliable source for this so take it w a grain of salt, but apparently paul referred to mclennon fanfiction as "beautiful stories" and doesn't mind them being written. paul also had a cat that had kittens & he named two of the kittens pyramus and thisbe after fictional lovers he and john played and he gave pyramus (the character paul played) to john :|

and literally so much else like all of this and it's not even all of it. it's not even close to all of it. i didn't even get to talk about the way in "get back" the documentary, paul started talking about john leaving the band for yoko and how john would choose her over them and then he got teary eyed, started choke laughing, and then started singing "build me up buttercup" before looking at the cameras and stopping. what the FUCK was that about! IT'S NOT EVEN GETTING INTO THE SONG "TWO OF US" THAT'S SO OBVIOUSLY ABOUT JOHN THAT IT HURTS. it's. it's not even scratching the surface. they were just genuinely insane about each other.

[theemporium]

hii!! saw u asking for requests and i haven’t been able to get this idea out of my head! poly!marauders with a s/o that’s like really good looking so wherever they go people look at her and they get all pouty and whiny until barty, evan and reg all come up to her and kiss her cheek and are like “we still on for tonight?” AND THE MARAUDERS AFE LIKE ???? WYM🤨🤨😤😤 and she’s like “oh! we’re having a sleepover!” and they’re like, “well now we’re joining” but she says no so they sneak into the slytherin dorms to see her and the skittles smoking weed and just laying around and they basically just hang out with them even though they’re jealous 😭🤭🤣

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

It was comically ironic how bad your boys were at sharing. 

Not with each other, of course. They had no problem sharing with each other, whether it meant alternating whose bed you slept in or who chose the date night for the week. Funnily enough, the topic of sharing and the odd nature of your relationship was never something the boys ever struggled with. In a sense, their friendship was only brought close together through it all. 

But sharing you with others? That was a whole different story. 

Despite as much as it displeased them, you were a social butterfly. You liked to reach out and make friends. The house or class status never mattered to you—people were people and that’s how you treated them. 

It didn’t help that your smile was warm and comforting, or the fact that the majority of the school student body had heart eyes for you. It was never an issue before because the boys knew you were theirs, they knew they snatched you when nobody else could. 

That security in the relationship quickly spiralled out of control with your growing, buddying friendship with the Slytherin boys. 

It started off as sitting next to Barty during one of your classes. A harmless seating plan that sat you next to the boy who seemed a bit grouchy—no pun intended towards his name. A friendship blossomed, which extended towards the small group Barty kept close to him and before you knew it, you found yourself having a little membership too. 

The boys weren’t amused. Not at all. You had dealt with their fits of jealousy here and there, but this was beyond that—this reached levels of pettiness you had never witnessed before. 

“This is ridiculous,” you stated, biting back your giggles as you watched your three boys shuffle into the room without a bother in the world. 

“I can’t imagine what you’d call ridiculous,” Sirius dismissed as he settled on the bed behind you, leaning over the edge to press a kiss to the top of your head. “We just wanted to hang out with our girl.” 

You leaned your head back, shooting the boy a look. “I told you I was having a sleepover tonight.”

“You didn’t tell us who,” Sirius countered. 

“Does it matter?” you asked. 

“I believe my brother is jealous,” Regulus commented, sitting across from you with a joint between his fingers that had been passed around the group before the boys arrived. 

“You are jealous?” you asked, your eyes filtering over each of the boys. 

“It’s hardly jealousy,” Sirius scoffed. 

“We just missed you,” James stated. 

“You saw me less than two hours ago,” you retorted. 

Remus shrugged. “I don’t see why we can’t join.”

You shook your head, though your amusement was clear. “You lot are a pain in my ass.” 

“We love you too, baby,” Sirius grinned as he leaned down, this time pressing a kiss to your lips. You could feel his smile grow when his brother let out a disgusted noise. 

“You’re going to scare away my friends,” you murmured with a playful pout. 

“Good,” James said as he shuffled over to you, happily laying his head down on your lap and grinning up at you. “Means we get to keep you to ourselves.” 

“Jealous bastards,” you huffed out a laugh. 

“Your jealous bastards, sweetheart,” Remus murmured with a hint of a smirk, unashamed in his words. 

Regulus blanched. “You guys can’t stay if you’re gonna try snogging her the whole night.” 

Sirius only grinned. “Shut up, Reggie, or we will try shagging her instead.”

.

[sadcoms]

AU where Rose stayed with the Time Lord Doctor after Journey’s End and they start to argue more like they did in S1 because the Doctor is doing his “I never would” thing and Rose is now saying “but sometimes you HAVE to” which causes him to start down another Davros-inspired spiral about how he’s “turned her into a weapon” and she’s like...actually travelling across dimensions trying to fight eternal darkness brought about by a ton of genocidal aliens will do that to you regardless!

Because Rose was never for pacifism-above-all-else. The episode before Dalek Harriet Jones straight up says she’s a very violent young woman because Rose (not unreasonably) wants the Slitheen to be blown up after they murdered countless people. Same with the Nestene Consciousness - but the Doctor says he has to give it a chance, and that is what she mirrors back at him in Dalek. This is usually why the pair works, because if one doesn’t have mercy on or compassion for someone the other one usually will (eg Cassandra). That’s why Ten is even willing to give Davros a chance, though it’s exacerbated by a lot of guilt around the Time War, especially when it kicked off in-part because of what he did, and failed to do, in Genesis of the Daleks.

And that is what Davros never got - that Rose had already seen the Doctor’s soul and loved him anyway; that part of their souls are the same because they helped each other grow. And it’s the same for all of the companions this era, whether it’s Jack saying he never doubted the Doctor would kill him, or Donna seeing him murder the Racnoss and still regretting not travelling with him, or Martha (somehow) forgiving the Doctor for the year that never was and for everything he burdened her with.

Because I think what Davros and the Doctor came to see as him turning people into weapons was actually just people willingly taking on the burden he carried. Again, a lot of people sort of write Tentoo and Rose off as the dalek genocide couple, but what exactly was the alternative? Let them destroy the universe? The Doctor is a coward, any day, and that makes complete sense as a reaction to already bearing two genocides on his shoulders, but it’s also that cowardice that makes other people step up and be brave, which usually means sacrificing themselves, and the Doctor carries that too. That is why Martha gets the direct parallel to the Doctor with the Osterhagen key - both are willing to burn their planets to save the rest of the universe, and Martha already spent S3 being more like the Doctor than he was because he was so broken by grief. By Season 4, the Doctor is already so self-destructive and so self-loathing that only he, the "true" Time Lord, can be the arbiter of genocides and who can’t be. Even when it comes to Martha, or to another exact replica of himself.

(Never mind that he makes essentially the same decision the Metacrisis Doctor and Martha did again in End of Time when he sends Gallifrey back into hell, but hey, he got there in the end.)

And it’s one of the reasons why the Doctor’s so reliant on the Master. I’m not sure he would have gone to get his ‘reward’ had some of that weight of destroying Gallifrey again not been shared with another Time Lord. Ten does, ultimately, put humans on a pedestal and does his best to protect them even when they are willing to share his burden (note that Tentoo destroying the Daleks means Donna doesn't have to take on any of the burdens Rose or Martha did, so she stays the least militarised companion). He simultaneously wants that other Time Lord judgement while needing humans as another perspective.

All of this to say that, I think most people understand that Ten being with someone but especially with Rose would have stopped him going Time Lord Victorious, but they don't necessarily understand why. TLV comes from his desire to save everyone, because all the loss he's seen and has caused is too much. Not only does having Rose help soothe that, but she also specifically could have helped ground the Doctor back to where he was morally in the first two series, which is quite different from where he is by S4.

(Also The Next Doctor would have been an absolutely wild story for Rose and the Doctor to have gone on next. They arrive thinking they might have a fun Christmas and then they have to confront the fact that the Battle of Canary Wharf is still following them and how when they lost each other they lost everything. And how the villain in that is defeated by the Doctor showing her herself, which is what Davros tried to do the Doctor.)

[kittencomicslol]

Awake at night again unable to sleep. Decided to write another snuggle/comfort fic with Gyutaro but this time w demon Gyutaro!! Hooray :3

No TW’s, it’s literally just more tooth rotting fluff. It’s a little short but it’s nice. Did my best to spell check this one too but Y’know I was sleepy so if there’s any errors just lmk >_<

With a small little huff, Gyutaro laid down next to you on the bed. It had been a rather long day… Daki handled a Hashira rather immaturely. Though everything ended up fine after Gyutaro came quickly to defend her, and their secretive location didn’t get it out, it was still upsetting for Gyutaro. He tried to explain to Daki that she needed to be more careful about dealing with high ranking slayers and per usual, Daki got upset and whined about how he needed to let her be ‘more independent’.

Gyutaro didn’t try to push much since the last thing he would ever wanna do is upset his dear little sister, but he was still rightfully annoyed after their fight.

“Hey..”

You spoke out softly, your voice ringing in his ears in a way he could only describe as comforting. Somehow, your presence was always able to help him calm down even when in a fit of blind rage, and oh how he loved you so for it.

Gyutaro was still upset, and since he didn’t know how to properly handle or express his feelings he just let out an angry huff as he kept his back turned to you. Fortunately for him you knew him well enough to understand what was going on and how to help.

You weren’t pushy, and you didn’t ask him a bunch of questions or berate him. You simply scooted closer, gently wrapping your arms around his thin body and resting your head against his back. Gyutaros heart ached.

He loved how sweet you always were with him, how you handled him so gently as if he were the most precious thing in the world. He loved you dearly and if there was one thing he didn’t want, it was for you to be uncomfortable. He hated being the little spoon when you cuddled or having you up against his back. He knew his body wasn’t perfect.. he didn’t exactly mind. He was proud of his ugliness and how much of a monster he was, but he still knew that it would be less appealing to touch. He knew you claimed it was fine but he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable due to his weird protruding bony spine or hips.

He grumbled slightly, flipping over and gently pulling you against his chest. He made sure to not bring you too close though, out of fear his ribs might make you uncomfortable. But you didn’t seem to mind all that much when you gladly snuggled yourself up against him, resting your head against his weird skinny chest.

Gyutaro didn’t think he would ever fully comprehend how or why you were so comfortable with his deformed hideous body.. but it’s not like he was upset at you for it. If anything, he was impressed and thankful that someone could actually love him. He had grown up accepting the fact he would always be alone and became content with making Daki his top priority.. but then you came along.

Gyutaro grumbled, nothing coherent or of meaning; just a habit he had when thinking about something or having overwhelming feelings. He wanted to scratch himself since even thinking about the fact you loved him overwhelmed his senses.. but he didn’t. He wanted to keep you safe and comfortable, and right now that consisted of holding you close.

“It’s nice to see you, Gyutaro.. seems like you had a long day, hm?..”

Your voice was something he would never get used to either. But that wasn’t a bad thing at all, because he would never get tired of how soothing it was. He huffed in an upset manner and nodded slightly, seeming to be in a frustrated almost nonverbal state.

He was glad you never pushed when he was upset, because even if he knew he wouldn’t ever lash out or harm you because he loves you too much, he still got frustrated from questions when he was upset. He always found them so hard to answer when he was overwhelmed which only always caused a spiral into more anger.

A content sigh escaped the demon's lips as he felt your hand gently run along his back in a tender manner, selfishly indulging into all of the pampering you gave him despite his knowledge he did not deserve such love. It was only natural after all.

“Well, don’t worry.. we don’t have anything to do at all tonight… we can just relax.. sounds good?”

Simple yes or no questions were always better in moderation during such situations, especially if it was context to help him settle down. Gyutaro let out a grunt and nodded again, giving you a slight squeeze while keeping you held close.

You couldn’t help but smile, grateful he was trusting enough of you to confide in your comforts when he felt vulnerable. Hell, he didn’t even do this sort of thing with Daki.. he didn’t want her to think he was weak or unfit to protect her. Besides, Gyutaro knew very well she was just too young and immature to properly understand or handle his complex feelings. Gyutaro still loved Daki dearly and allowed her to confide in him when she was upset, but he never wanted to stress her. He only ever wanted the best for her, willing to overwork and stress himself to the bone just to make sure she didn’t have to raise a finger.

He was able to find solace in calmer moments, and was always able to push through even if he was ticked off and overwhelmed after extensive work. Your help was also another thing that helped keep him more stable.

Every time you helped him calm down or showed him love, Gyutaro seemed to understand why Daki enjoyed him helping her so much.

No wonder Daki confided in his assistance if being tended to and pampered felt this good.

“M’ proud of you, Gyu.. always working so hard.. you’re such a sweet man, you know that?”

Your voice cooed, causing his stomach to do flips from the simple words of praise that acknowledged his hard work. The words ‘sweet man’ were definitely not fitting for him in any other circumstances or around anyone else, and he knew that he wasn’t sweet. But he could care less, always brushing off the rationality and letting himself comfortably melt into your sweet words of affirmation and love. As long as he was with you, he was more than fine being a sweet man. Anything that made you happy, anything you wanted to call him.. he would love all of it, just seeing you smile is enough to make his heart race. He never realized how emotionally sensitive he was until he met you, but.. he doesn’t really mind it.

At first Gyutaro was worried and even intimidated by how you made him feel. fuzzy, comforted, calm.. all were signs of weakness to him, which was something that he couldn’t be based on what was instinctually ingrained into his head. At least.. that was until he actually started working with you and becoming more comfortable with the idea of feeling comfortable. He still hated the idea of being weak.. but he didn’t mind being calm for a little bit, even if it meant showing some weakness. He felt this way because you would be there, someone he knew that he could show these ‘weaknesses’ around without being viewed as lesser.

He grumbled softly, pulling you closer just ever so slightly. Gyutaro made sure to be gentle, always aware of his weird boney physique and always worried of hurting you, or even just making you uncomfortable.

“You did good today, Gyutaro.. so good. I’m so lucky to have you, and so is Daki.. you make us the luckiest souls in the world..”

These words were ones that he would never forget; Akin to whenever else you praised him. He would just never get over it, and never fully get used to how good and relaxing it truly felt. Despite what you claimed about you and Daki being the luckiest souls alive because of him, he felt the opposite. Because despite his misfortune, he honestly and truly believed he had to be one of the luckiest men alive to have gotten to meet and form a relationship with you. He was the luckiest man alive to be able to provide and care for his sister and you, and it was a task that made him feel something nothing else could.

Lying peacefully in your arms listening to sweet words of affirmation, for once Gyutaro truly felt at peace in this hectic life he upholds.

[rosesradio]

Annabeth had been the baby and favorite of camp half blood once...and that somewhat still remained true for the older campers this dynamic steeps in the titan army. Luke, Alabaster and even Ethan who hated her as much as he wanted to be her . The tension on the battlefield could not be understated Percy hated every moment of it. So did Thalia. But what could Annabeth do about it ? This was all the resuslt of a time of her life where both of them weren't around.

ugh, the dynamics here are /so/ compelling.

because you’re right, ethan hated how much attention annabeth got when he wasn’t that much older than her. he would train arguably harder, longer, and more dangerous than her, and still he wouldn’t get even a fraction of the attention she did. most of all, he was jealous of how luke gave her attention, how she clung to his arm like Velcro, especially in their younger years. ethan would have definitely clocked annabeth’s crush, wether luke did or not, and luke’s feelings for her (platonic & familial or not so platonic & familial, whichever way you slice it), make ethan spiral more than anything. he wonders if luke gave him attention, if others would soon follow. he wonders if luke would be enough, all he really wanted.

ethan views annabeth as spoiled, but she’s really anything but. she doesn’t have any real friends, only older campers who feel pressured to take care of her. she doesn’t even have thalia, one of the few people she actually wants to be there for her. she is viewed as the baby & the favorite, & is therefore put in a box she can’t get out of. she’s not taken as seriously for years, even when she excels at the war games. she isn’t allowed to go on a quest or even leave to explore the mortal world outside of field trips or (gods forbid) trips to see her father. she doesn’t /want/ to be the coddled favorite, she wants to be on the same level as the older campers, as the heroes she looks up to…even if those feelings of wanting to take care of annabeth are what wakes luke up and saves the war.

and then there’s thalia, who wakes up in the middle of everything. she’s pretty perceptive (her cynicism helps more or less in that), and probably was able to clock certain things as making sense despite the horrible events (example: her understanding luke’s bitterness towards the gods lead him astray). even so, she doesn’t think it’s fair. it’s not fair that the remaining TA members have a soft spot for annabeth, who thalia intended to die protecting, when they continue to fight against her & every other demigod who used to be their friends. it wasn’t fair that they had come to love annabeth, but held none of the same hesitancy for the tree that had protected them for years. underneath her hardened layers is a sensitivity like a bruise. just because she launched luke off the cliff doesn’t mean part of her didn’t want to fall right down with him.

and then there’s percy, an underdog who does eventually make friends (arguably easier than annabeth, imo annabeth’s specific flavor of neurodivergence makes it harder for her to make friends because i enjoy projecting 👍). the thing is though, the TA never cared for him. there are moments like in tbotl in which luke asks for annabeth to be spared in order to talk to her about joining the TA. i have to wonder if percy ever felt bitter about this. he was in a really vulnerable spot when he first got to camp, and luke was there only to pull the rug out from under him. i wonder if there’s a small part of percy that feels jealous of annabeth in the same way ethan does, thinking that if the circumstances were different, maybe luke and the others would be his friend. and it’s a sick thing, why would he want to be friends with demigods who have tried to kill him? but all at once percy can’t help but feel that way, seeking out validation and envious of annabeth, because she wants to throw away something that by birth he was never going to receive.

[dullgecko]

During senior year, Fabian’s mental health starts spiralling. His half-sibling is born and pretty much everyone steps in to help Hallariel and Gilear with whatever they need, and Fabian can see how loved this new baby is, and he just ends up wondering why he wasn’t ever worth that. For the first few months, the baby is all anyone wants to talk about, and there seems to be this expectation that Fabian will just drop whatever he’s doing to help out no matter what time it is, no matter what he had planned.

Fabian had thought that maybe Adaine would understand why he was struggling. After all, elven parents blatantly showing favourites, while utterly disregarding the existence/wellbeing of the other sibling probably would have resonated with her if she thought about it that way, but she didn’t. His life was great, right? She just kind of laughed that he was jealous of a baby, and of course they’re paying attention to it, babies need attention, and he was an adult and he would survive with a little less attention. He tried to tell himself that she didn’t mean it in a horrible way, and she probably didn’t, but it still hurt to hear. (He hadn’t forgotten how lonely he had been during junior year, using podcasts to make it sound like people were in the house with him, clinging to whatever pillows he could find as a substitute for actual contact with a person. And now there were so many people around for the baby and none of them had ever put that much effort into being there for him.)

Fig also really didn’t help, because the main reason she messaged Fabian was to ask for photos of the baby and he ended up blocking her for a bit because he just couldn’t deal with that. Kristen kept sharing little anecdotes from when her siblings were younger and even Gorgug kept asking Fabian what toys the baby might like. Riz was basically the only one who didn’t particularly care about the baby (sure, they were kinda cute, maybe, but he didn’t want kids regardless of whatever his complex feelings about relationships were) but he was completely overwhelmed by school and scholarship applications and extra cases which meant that he was hardly ever around.

At first, Fabian tried to get perfect grades in the hopes that maybe that would get him some attention from parents that had apparently forgotten all about him. When that didn’t work, he figured there wasn’t much point in trying, and he just stopped working, to the point that he was on the verge of failing the year. Jawbone picked up on it, but ended up making things worse by accident.

After that failed counselling session, Fabian had gone missing for three days (Riz didn’t sleep the entire time and trusted Jawbone even less than before). He eventually returned, showing up at Riz’s apartment, physically unharmed (somehow) but incredibly drunk and just sobbing about how he was the worst parts of both of his parents and how it finally made sense why no one wanted him around. Riz was a little offended that Fabian thought no one wanted him, and because words are hard but work is easy, Riz ended up talking Fabian through a clue board he’d been working on about how he could help Fabian.

Riz knew he looked like an absolute mess, hair disheveled and unwashed, clothes wrinkled, tie loose on his neck and shirt partially unbuttoned as he crossed another location off the map he had sprawled out over his kitchen table. Fabian had been gone for three days and compleatly uncontactable, even Adaines attempt to skry had been unsuccessful so it was likely he was either making an attempt not to be found or someone had taken him.

The others were all checking different locations in Elmville searching for information while Riz co-ordinated the search. He hadn't slept in days and the fact that they'd found nothing so far was not helping things. He'd checked most of the locations himself but was at such a disadvantage due to exhaustion that his friends had forced him to go home for a while.

The goblin ran his fingers through his hair, groaning and thunking his forehead against the table when he got a text from Gorgug. Riz only lifting his head to mark another location off the map since the half orc had found nothing. He took his glasses off, holding them by one arm as he laid his head back down and took a deep breath. Seriously contemplating getting his third coffee of the hour depite his heart beating at a dangerously fast pace because he was having an incredibly hard time thinking right now.

He jumped when there was a sudden loud pounding against his front door, nearly swiping his empty coffee cup onto the floor but managing to catch it at the last second. The goblin placing the cup more centraly on the table before getting up to go see who was waiting outside. He opened it with the safety chain still attached, just in case it was someone there to attack him given the violence of the banging, and immediatly slammed the door back shut. The goblin having to jump to disengage the chain before flinging the door back open and grab the person on the other side by the fabric of their pant leg.

Fabian looked almost as disheveled as he did, which was saying something, and stank of alcohol. Riz wrinkling his nose at the smell as he tried to drag his previously missing friend inside and check to make sure he was okay.

"Fabian holy fuck I've been looking for you everywhere are you okay?" The rogue had to tug and manouver the incredibly drunk half elf to sit down on his couch, leaving him there for just a second as he went to grab a first aid kit before coming back and checking him over properly. The fact he had tears streaming down his cheeks was incredibly concerning, on top of the fact he'd disappeared for three days and hadn't said a word yet was not doing much to put Riz at ease even though he was no longer missing.

[cre8inghavoc]

What are friends for?

PT. 7

Status: ongoing!!

Updates: no set date.

WC: 2734

Pairing: megumi fushiguro x FEM!reader

Genre/Warnings:[18+] Characters are aged up. This story contains toxic boyfriend, cursing, name calling, self-doubt/hate, angst, breaking up, post-breakup, alcohol, drug use, drunk moments, new friends, dating!au, college!au, no curses!au, dark humour, dark jokes. SMAU.

Recap:

Now that your ex has retrieved his belongings, you're on a tight deadline to get everything packed by the end of the day. You have to move out tonight, especially since you're starting at a new school tomorrow. Plus, moving everything out today will make it much easier to settle into your new room before school starts. And, it's a good way to pass the time until 6:40 PM tonight, when you plan to head to the park.... Tonight will be the moment of truth to see if he decides to show up. You're overwhelmed with the need to apologize for your silence all week and for turning down his invitations to hang out. And then there's the mess with your ex, which just adds to the chaos. You really want to explain to him that your ex was only there to pick up his stuff before you move, but it's hard to make him understand when you hadn't even mentioned your plans to move to begin with.

It just feels like everything is just spiralling out of control…

MEGUMIS POV:

The phone sits there, taunting me with its silent demand for attention. My fingers itch to reach for it, to answer her call, but I know I can't. It's a battle of wills, and I'm fighting against myself. If I give in, I'll only end up forgiving her too easily, forgetting all about her with her ex.

 But it's so damn hard. 

She's always on my mind, her smile a reminder of genuine warmth that lingers in my thoughts. Her eyes, deep and honest, draw me in with every glance, revealing layers of her soul I can't resist. And her scent... her perfume, it's like a gentle embrace, comforting and alluring, even when she's not around. Every moment with her is like poetry in motion, each touch, each word, sparking a fire of longing within me. She's more than just a person; she's a feeling, an intoxicating presence that I can't shake.

She's a masterpiece in every sense, utterly captivating and impossible to overlook. Despite the simmering anger within me, my deepest longing is to have her close, to revel in the comfort of her embrace. Yet, I restrain myself. I can't muster the strength to answer the phone, to engage with her messages. Not now. At Least not yet….

I glance over at my phone and catch her last message: meet her at the park at 7.

Damn, she makes it so hard to resist.

 7 PM…..

The park across from my place. She'll explain what happened. Maybe it wasn't as serious as it seemed... Maybe he just showed up? Knocking at her door, threatening her. Damn it. If that's the case, what the hell is wrong with me? How could I be so blind? What if he intended to harm her, and I just walked away, leaving her alone? Is she okay? The amount of messages she sent suggests she is, but still... How could I be so reckless? What if she got hurt? I would never forgive myself. Never.

Fuck!

I have to go…. I have to make sure she's okay, to reassure myself that my fears are unfounded. And if she needs me, I'll be there, no matter what.

I glance at the time: 6:55 PM.

God damn it... 

I won't make it back in time, at least not for another 10 minutes or so. With a heavy heart and a sense of urgency, I gather my thoughts and hit the gas, pushing the limits to get home as quickly as possible, determined to find her and ensure her safety, no matter the cost.

I'll just call her and let her know I'm on my way and that I'll be a little late. As I pick up my phone and dial her number, it goes straight to voicemail twice. Is she ignoring me? No, she wouldn't... Why would she? Maybe her phone's dead? Or maybe she turned it off? I have to get to her as fast as I can.

But as I arrive, the park is deserted, and she's nowhere to be seen. Dread washes over me, realizing I'm 15 minutes late. Did she give up on me? Did she think I wouldn't come? Panic sets in as I frantically search, hoping against hope that she's still here, waiting for me…

But she's not. She's gone. And the weight of that realization hits me like a ton of bricks.

I pick up my phone again, desperate, and dial her number once more. But it goes straight to voicemail again.

"Please, angel... pick up," I whisper into the void, my voice strained with worry.

But there's no answer. Just silence. And in that silence, my fears grow stronger, gnawing at my heart with a relentless grip.

YOUR POV

You arrived at the park five minutes early, hoping against hope that Megumi would show up on time.

6:55 PM.

Anxiety courses through your veins, the uncertainty of his reaction weighing heavily on your mind. Would he even show up? Or would he take your explanation poorly, not believing a word you'd say, and then leave you? Both outcomes are equally terrifying, but you can't shake the feeling that Megumi not showing up might be slightly worse. It would mean he wants nothing to do with you, and you wouldn't even have the chance to explain what actually happened. The guilt would eat away at you.

You've turned your phone off, ensuring that when he arrives, if he does, you won't be interrupted. Your focus would be solely on him.

7:00 PM.

You sit there, waiting, scanning the park for any sign of him. Each person who approaches, you hope it's him, but it never is. With every passing moment, your thoughts spiral further. Was he ever going to show up? Did something happen? Or does he just not want you anymore?

7:10 PM.

You give him an extra ten minutes, clinging to the hope that maybe he's running late. But as the minutes tick by, hope fades into disappointment. He's not coming. He didn't come. What's the point in waiting any longer? Even if he did show up, would you be angry? Upset? Feeling unimportant because of his lateness? Maybe he forgot or didn't see your message? You try to give him the benefit of the doubt, but it's hard. Trust is a fragile thing, especially after what you went through with your ex.

You stand from the bench, tears threatening to spill, but you hold them back as best as you can. The emotions swirl within you—sadness, disappointment, frustration. You start to walk away, making your way back home. You've already packed everything after kicking out your ex, so all that's left to do is go back. The movers said they'd be there by 8 PM to gather your things and take them to your new place.

At 9:40 PM, over an hour has passed since you finally moved into your new place. With the help of your friends, unpacking was a breeze, and it felt surprisingly good to be living with them. As you make your way to your room, you're pleasantly surprised to find it larger than expected. Thank goodness for Toge's spacious house, where even the rooms are sizable. And having your own bathroom? That's a luxury you definitely appreciate.

You take a moment to survey the space, considering how to arrange your belongings. With a generous window offering a view of the expansive backyard—complete with lush green grass, towering trees, and a sparkling pool—you decide to position your bed beside it. It's the perfect spot to gaze at your favorite view, especially with the moon casting its gentle glow outside.

Setting up your room with your friends was a joyous experience, making the whole moving process feel more fun and exciting. As you begin to organize, you can't help but feel a sense of contentment and anticipation for the adventures that await in your new home.

You call out to Maki, asking for her help in setting up your gaming equipment in the corner.

"Yep! Is your PC in this box?" she asks, pointing at the one labeled "fragile."

"Yes, ma'am!" you confirm with a smile.

Turning to Toge and Yuta, you assign them the task of mounting your TV on the wall across from your bed.

“Yes ma’am! You got it!” Toge says, in his usual playful manner, as he salutes. 

“You’re so stupid” You say while slapping your forehead. 

Laughter fills the room, easing the tension that's been weighing on you all day. You don't realize how late it's gotten until you finally check the clock: 12:12 AM.

With a mixture of relief and gratitude, you thank your friends for their help. However, beneath the surface, the lingering disappointment of Megumi's absence still weighs heavily on your mind. Though you try to push it aside, your friends can sense that something's bothering you.

"Thank you guys so much for helping me. I'm sorry for taking up so much of your time!" you apologize.

"You know you don't have to thank us... We're always going to be here for you!" Maki reassures you.

"I could've been playing Fortnite, so she does have to apologize for taking up my precious time," Toge interjects jokingly, prompting laughter from everyone.

"Sorry, Toge, didn't know Fortnite was more important," you tease back, rolling your eyes.

"Just kidding, obviously you're more important!!!" Toge replies with a smirk, in a sarcastic tone, though what he said is true... you definitely are more important.

"Wow, screw you," you playfully retort, sticking out your tongue and your middle finger as you all continue to laugh.

"How are you feeling now that you're officially moved out?" Yuta sweetly asks.

"Honestly, I feel happy and comfortable. I love being with you guys, and now that we all live together, it's going to be so fun. And I'm going to the same school as you all! Speaking of which, we should probably head to sleep... It's almost 12:30, and we have to wake up at 7 AM," you say, a hint of tiredness creeping into your tone.

"That's good, and we're happy you're with us too! Goodnight, Y/N," Yuta replies with a smile before hugging you and then heading towards the door.

"Finally, I can play Fortnite," Toge jokes before noticing you picking up a pillow.

"Y/N! I was kidding! I WAS KIDDING!" Toge exclaims, darting out of your room as you chase after him, pillow in hand.

The chase leads you both around the house. As you enter the kitchen, Toge quickly runs on one side of the counter, putting distance between you. Determined to catch him, you move to your left, but he mirrors your movements, keeping just out of reach.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Toge grins and taunts you from across the counter, knowing he's outmanoeuvred you for now. But you're not one to give up easily, and with a playful smirk, you prepare to outsmart him in this game. 

“Y/N IM SORRY! I SAID I WAS KIDDING PLEASE SPARE MY LIFE!!!! I BEGGGG” he yells out. 

“NOT UNTIL YOU APOLOGIZED AND SAY IM YOUR BEST FRIEND AND YOU LOVE ME.” you yell back teasing him. 

“NO NEVER!” he runs past you and you chase him back up the stairs but you corner him before he could get to his room.

“IM SO SORRY QUEEN Y/N MY BESTEST OF BEST FRIEND I LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH!” he says in fear. 

“Love you too bestie!! goodnight!” You smile innocently and make your way to your room.

“she's fucking crazy....” he mumbled to himself as he gets back up.

“mmm? what was that?” you say turning back towards him. 

“Uhh... N-NOTHING!!! HAHA… NOTHING AT ALL” With a nervous chuckle, Toge swiftly opens the door to his room, slipping inside and securing the lock behind him.

Maki, witnessing the entire exchange, approaches you with a smile to say goodnight. But before she leaves, she asks about Megumi.

Your surprise is evident, but you can't bring yourself to lie to your best friend. 

"It's... kinda bad right now. We're not really talking," you admit.

"What? What the hell happened?" Maki responds, shocked.

"He saw my ex at my house today. He was only there to grab his stuff, but then Megumi showed up around the same time, and my ex lied to him... I didn't know he was there until it was too late," you explain with a sigh.

"Why didn't you just call him and explain?" Maki inquires.

"I tried, but he didn't answer at all. I even texted him to meet me at the park across from his house at 7 PM to explain everything, and if he didn't show up, I'd just assume he didn't want to be friends anymore or have any type of relationship."

"And...?" Maki prompts, sensing your hesitation.

"He didn't show up," you admit, feeling your heart drop.

"What the hell? Why wouldn't he show up? That guy is literally obsessed with you," Maki says, clearly bewildered.

"Stop..." you respond, feeling annoyed.

"Stop what?" Maki asks, confused.

"Stop saying shit that isn't true, you really don't need to lie about that." you say, your frustration bubbling up.

"What do you mean?! I've known Megumi since he was a kid, y/n.. He's never been like this, not once with a girl before. Every girl that's ever tried talking to him, he wouldn't even notice or care to at least. He puts no effort in at all. Why do you think when we saw him with you on the couch together, we were extremely shocked. He barely gets near a girl, so the fact that he let you lean on him AND hold your hand shows that he likes you. Like, a lot," Maki explains, her words hitting you hard.

"We're just friends... that's all. And it's normal," you respond weakly, trying to dismiss her observations.

"Maybe normal for you, but definitely not for Megumi. He barely talks to girls, let alone looks in their direction. Seriously, Y/N, you'd have to be blind or stupid to not see that he obviously has feelings for you," Maki concludes, her annoyance evident.

You fall silent, feeling conflicted by her words as she leaves you to ponder the truth of her observations.

"Goodnight, Maki," you respond, your tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. Despite her insistence, you can't shake the feeling that what she's telling you isn't entirely true, convinced that Megumi sees you only as a friend.

"Y/N—" Maki starts, but you cut her off, retreating back into your room and heading straight for bed. Without wasting a moment, Maki quickly pulls out her phone and sends a message to Nobara.

7AM

As your alarm blares, announcing the start of your first day at a new school, a rush of nerves and excitement courses through you. But, having your friends by your side brings a warm sense of familiarity that soothes the uncertainties of the day ahead.

Last night was rough. You couldn't sleep good as thoughts of Megumi consumed your mind, denying you any peace. Despite knowing it's time to move forward, his memory persists, a constant companion in your thoughts. It's tough to shake off the memory of someone who felt so right, even when things didn't quite align.

The second alarm that goes off snaps you out of your thoughts, prompting you to get moving. With a sigh, you drag yourself out of bed and start getting ready for the day.

Arriving at the school, you feel a mix of excitement and anxiety as you head to the office to pick up your schedule. Despite the last-minute transfer, you're relieved that they've welcomed you, easing some of the nerves about starting anew.

You rush up the stairs of the school, the realization that you're running late sets in. Panic starts to rise as you frantically search for your classroom, the maze-like layout of the school making it difficult to navigate.

"Where the hell is this stupid class?" you mutter under your breath, frustration mounting with each passing second.

With your mind solely focused on finding your class, you fail to notice the person standing directly in your path. Before you can react, you run right into them, the impact jolting you back to reality.

Stumbling backward, he reaches out to steady you, his hands gently settling on your waist, you look up to apologize, only to freeze in shock as you lock eyes with the person before you.

"Megumi?" you blurt out, unable to hide your surprise as you take in his familiar features and all-black attire.

His expression remains impassive at first, but as his gaze meets yours, recognition flashes in his eyes.

"Y/n…?"

omg omg omg omg omg

finally finished this part... took longer than expected... sorry for the long wait

i rly appreciate ur guys patience <3

this part was kindaaa boring but i promise next one will get more interesting teehee

TAGLIST <3

@lavender-hvze @xbarrjallenx @atinymonbebestay @1l-ynn @chilichopsticks @dr-fluff-meow @lost-resonance @maya-maya-56 @ichorstainedskin @luciiferslover @madaqueue @vanitywoo

[ihavethedreamies]

Rough Love | Easy to Expert (3 v4)

Lee Yongbok (Felix) & Han Jisung (Han) - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~3.1k

Dom!Han/Switch!Felix/Sub!Reader (AFAB)

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Kinda Fluff

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Lingerie, Multiple Partners, Slight M/M (Kiss), Oral (M! and F! Receiving/Anal), Deepthroating/Face-Fucking, Threesome, Double Penetration, Anal Play, Sex Toys - Butt Plugs, Anal Sex, Unprotected Sex (Bad Idea, Don't Do It)

Author's Note: Um…yeah this spiraled out of control. I am writing these in…descending/devolving order so the further I go the more intense these will get…so its only up (or down depending on how you see it) from here.

Edit (8/25/24): I changed the text/chat pictures to just text.

-> Series Hub <-

-> Part 1 <-

-> Part 2 <-

-> Ver. I.N. <-

-> Ver. Seungmin <-

-> Ver. Hyunjin <-

-> Ver. Lee Know <-

-> Ver. Changbin <-

-> Ver. Bang Chan <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

"Your favorite color is red, right?" Felix asked out of nowhere. Jisung looked over at him, then back to the screen. An odd thing to ask while gaming…He was now curious and paused the game, setting the controller down.

"Why?"

"It is right?" Felix asked again and Jisung nodded, suspicious. Felix hummed and typed something into his phone that lay on the couch out of view of the other.

"Why?" He reiterated.

"I needed to tell (Y/N) what color to get." Is all Felix said.

"Why?" Jisung repeated. Felix was asking casually…too casually. When Felix didn't answer, Jisung lunged over him to grab his phone and the other guy yelled in protest, trying to wrestle him away. Unfortunately for your boyfriend, Jisung was stronger and managed to get away with the phone. Felix flopped onto the couch, glaring at the other as he scrolled through the phone.

☀️: They have animals, but I don't think anyone anywhere makes a Quokka set. 🐤: Is there like a chipmunk or a squirrel? ☀️: No...There is a set of mouse ears but they got with a Minnie Mouse set. 🐤: What do they have? ☀️: Fox, Dog, Cat, Rabbit, Horse, Cow... 🐤: Seriously, they have a cow set? 🐤: Okay. Do they have anything normal there or do you have to go to a different store? ☀️: No I can find something here...

Jisung scowled at the conversation and kept reading.

☀️: No I can find something here... ☀️: What's his favorite color? 🐤: Red

Three little dots bounced as you typed, and he waited nervously for what you might be saying.

🐤: Red ☀️: Red is popular. There is silk, lace, fishnet, leather...

What? Jisung was starting to put pieces together but was still confused. It didn't make sense.

"What the fuck is this?" Jisung held Felix's phone up to him and your boyfriend scrambled off the couch to grab the device. He looked at your newest message.

You were looking over the choices, feeling the different materials of the different sets. You glanced back at your phone, the dots popping up to show Felix was typing.

🐤: Pictures?

You huffed and snuck a pic of the display. Luckily the store was sorted by color, so the whole display was just lingerie sets in red.

"What is happening?" Jisung mumbled and opened his mouth to shout, and Felix waved his hand to call him over. He did so hesitantly, and your boyfriend showed him the picture you set. His face blossomed red, and he gaped.

"W-what?"

"Which do you like, on her?" Felix asked and his friend flinched back.

"What, why?"

"She picked you for a threesome." Felix shrugged. He wasn't dumb, he knew his friend would most likely agree. On the off chance he didn't, Felix could pick instead.

"A threesome!?" Jisung nearly screamed and the other man shushed him.

"Yeah. You in?"

"WHAT!?" The other man was trying to wrap his head around what was happening.

"You. In?"

"OF COURSE. Give me the phone!" Jisung shouted and yoinked the device from Felix, looking at the picture.

"Tell her to get the one on the top rack, second to last." He shoved the phone back to his friend who laughed and relayed the message.

🐤: Pictures? ☀️: Attachment Loading 🔄 ☀️: Attachment Sent 🔗 🐤: ✅ 🐤: He's in 🐤: Get the one with the black

You looked at your phone and smiled, feeling giddy. Unfortunately for you though you could not reach the one he picked so you had to signal to an employee. She stood on her tips toes and got it down for you and you held it up to make sure it was the right size.

"You need to try it on?" The worker asked and you shook your head.

"No, I've gotten this brand, so I know it’s right." You hooked the hanger on your arm and went to look at the thigh-highs and garters. You looked at the tag and it gave you the set number and you picked out the matching accessories.

"Your man sure is lucky." The worker cooed as you put the items on the counter to pay. You pulled out the card from your bag, it actually had Felix's name on it.

"Oh, he gave you his card?" She teased and you shook your head.

"Just for this. He's getting his friend to pay him back after." You realized what you let slip but tried to play it off.

"His friend, hm?" She just smirked, not pressing and you were grateful. You left the establishment and started back to your apartment. By the time you got home and had gotten all ready, the boys should be arriving.

True to your estimate, as you were straightening the thigh-highs you had on, the door dinged as Felix keyed in the code.

"You were all ready for this before I agreed?" You heard Jisung as they walked in.

"I knew you would." You could hear Felix too and knew he shrugged with his statement. You adjusted your headband; it was round black ears with red ribbons. Closest you could get to a Quokka. The actual lingerie was a red bra with black frills and the panties were crotchless, also with black frills. The thigh highs were black tight fishnet with red bows hiding the little lines of rubber that held them up. Your nails were painted every other red and black to match. Felix told you to wear the red liquid lipstick he got, but you were worried about getting it off since it was advertised to last 48 hours. A little ridiculous, who would need it on that long? The final touch was the butt plug you had to slide in yourself. There wasn't a matching tail to go with your set to add to the silicone plug, so you just got a simple black tail similar to a cat's. The only piece you already had was the black silk choker Felix got you some time back, a tag hanging off of it with his name on it. They were both giddy to see you all dressed up, Jisung even more so. He was still buzzing with the thrill of learning his friend's girlfriend wanted to fuck him too. For some reason, it made it even better that Felix was involved too. That was something to think about later.

"Love?"

"Ready!" you called back and bounced a bit on your toes, waiting for them both to come in. You were a bit shocked when Jisung came in first, expecting Felix to lead the way.

"Fuck, sweetheart~" He groaned. He still had his coat on even, and he very quickly shed it, throwing it to the ground. He was…eager, to say the least. Every item of clothing he removed he did so aggressively. You were too busy watching him to see Felix come in behind him. He snuck past him against the wall and his fingers brushed over your lower back as he passed, heading to the nightstand. The original plan was for you to start by helping Jisung undress, but he was moving fast. He untied his scarf, nearly choking himself in the process of taking it off. A button popped off his shirt as he nearly ripped it open, and your mouth watered when he got his tank top off as well. His tiny little waist and broad shoulders matched with his muscular arms and defined veins were delicious. He looked so good; you had made a good choice.

"J-Ji-" You tried to slow him down, coming forward to lay your hands on him. When you got close enough, he pulled you to him and you yelped. Your bare stomach pressed to his, and you could feel his hard cock straining against his jeans. Before you could say another word, his lips sealed over yours, swallowing your squeak. Felix didn't say anything, or move to stop him, so you relaxed. His hands wandered your form, and he groaned as his hand rubbed over your butt, and lightly tugged at the tail of your plug. You squeaked again and stumbled, resting your hands on the waist band of his pants to steady yourself.

"Slow down, Ji." Felix came up behind you and you pulled back, gasping for breath and Jisung stared you down. His eyes were practically on fire, and you jumped, startled when Felix's cold hands came to rest on your waist above where Jisung was fondling the flesh of your butt. Your boyfriend started to kiss along the side of your neck and over your shoulder. You whimpered, trying to tilt your head to allow him better access, but the other man descended to the other side and laid searing kisses there himself. Jisung's were rougher and he nibbled and sucked, Felix was licking your skin more.

"Felix? The rules?" You prompted and he grunted, grinding his own hard on into the cleft of your ass, pressing against the plug. You huffed and Jisung's hands moved from your butt, one going to the back of your head, pulling you back into a kiss. You felt his arm brush your side, and he hooked his finger into the belt loop of Felix's jeans and pulled him to grind into you again. As Jisung wrestled his tongue with yours, Felix's hand buried under your panties and stroked two fingers through your slick folds. The speed and intensity were already making your head swim, you had to steady yourself again with your hand on Jisung's chest. You whined when he pulled away and he let you go, stepping back so he could remove his pants. Your hand went behind you to palm Felix's bulge as he fucked two of his fingers into you, pressing against your back wall to nudge the plug. Your focus went back to the other man as his pants fell and he smirked as you watched intently. His fingers slowly hooked in the waist band of his tight black boxer briefs, pulled it up and over the tip of himself and let the garment fall. You nearly gasped. He was the same length as your boyfriend, but thicker. Your mouth watered and your cunt clenched around Felix's fingers. He smirked against your neck and as he removed his digits, he swirled them around your clit.

"Go." He lightly smacked your butt, and you scurried forward to kneel before Jisung. You marveled at his dick; he was so pretty in so many ways. As you reached to wrap your hand around him, he noticed Felix fiddling with his phone and you yiped when the toy flared to life, buzzing inside you. Felix still had not stated the rules, and you thought he might have mentioned them earlier to Jisung. Though, since the other man immediately shoved his tongue in your mouth, you weren't sure.

"Don't worry, love. I won't let him do anything you don't like." Felix assured and you nodded back at him, looking up at Jisung nervously. You knew the two were close, but there was something else flittering in the air. You were used to cute, soft little Jisung, a sweet smiling Quokka. This was almost a different man, there was a dark blaze in his eyes and an extremely cocky grin spread over his face.

"Open up, sweetheart." His thumb stroked your bottom lip, and you removed your hand from the base of his cock, your fingers couldn't even touch.

"F-Felix?" you called out, still looking up at Jisung.

"I'm okay with it, love." He answered and so you opened your mouth wide, tongue out. The man before you huffed, smug, then his hand dug into your hair and he fucked his fat cock into your hot, wet mouth, and down your throat. You keened as your nose hit his groin. He smirked down at you, your eyes already watering and looking up at him wide.

"Here, 'Lix." He motioned to your boyfriend who sidled up to you both and you felt him kneel behind you. One hand wrapped softly around your throat; it was bulging with his friends length buried in it. He could tell you were needing air and nodded to Jisung who pulled his hips back, and you sucked in air harshly through your nose when you finally could.

"That's her limit." Felix told Jisung who hummed and then he started to fuck your face. You tried not to moan too much, but your jaw ached in the best way. Felix grinded his still covered hard-on into your backside, holding your head in place for Jisung, his other hand rubbing over your stomach.

"Good girl, love." He cooed in your ear and a tear flowed over your cheek, face red. He allowed you to breathe every so often, but your vision still spotted, more from ecstasy than lack of air. You weren't sure why your normally, still soft, dominant boyfriend was letting his friend take control. You were far from complaining, however.

"I'm gonna cum, sweetheart." Jisung grunted and he pulled out further and you sucked in air and Felix nodded for him to go head, so he buried his cock as deep as he could and came. You swallowed over and over, gagging slightly as he pumped the hot and thick substance into you. Your cunt clenched, and Felix smiled to himself that you didn't cum yourself. You always did with him. When the other man pulled out, you fell back into your boyfriend, panting. Jisung's dick was still half-hard, drool and cum dripping from him and down your chin.

"Hm, so good, (Y/N)." He smirked and you flinched a bit when Felix's hand on your throat moved to wipe the fluid from your bottom lip. You were even more shocked when he sucked it off his thumb himself.

"You like Ji's cock, love?" You nodded in response, and you stood up at your boyfriend's prompting. Jisung snapped his fingers and Felix pulled something from his pocket and tossed it to him. It was a green lubrication bottle, melon flavored. He looked over the label and you shuffled nervously before Felix led you to the bed. Instead of having you lay on your back at the end of the bed, Jisung followed and laid on his back in the middle of the bed. Felix had you lean over, and you whined as he pulled the still buzzing plug out.

"Come here, sweetheart." Jisung called. Looking at your boyfriend, he nodded, and went to literally sit on his face. Facing toward Felix still, Jisung smirked and squeezed a glob of gel straight onto your pucker, rubbing it around then into you. It made you mewl, and he tossed the bottle down the bed, then his hands grabbed your hips, arms around your upper thighs.

"Ah!" You squealed when he pulled you down on him, his tongue thrusting into your hole. His tongue was even more dexterous than Felix's and longer too. You whimpered when he moved your hips himself, letting his tongue flick over your clit. He licked through your folds, then his tongue slid into your cunt, before going back to your ass. You finally looked up at your boyfriend. He had finally removed his pants and was standing at the end of the bed, stroking his cock. When your eyes met, he joined you two on the bed, then stood on the mattress so your face was level with his cock. You whined and obediently opened your mouth so Felix could slide in. Your eyes rolled at the familiar taste, and he smirked and started thrusting. With Jisung's tongue in your ass and Felix's cock in your mouth, your poor little pussy was feeling quite empty. When your boyfriend pulled back, you whimpered, and he huffed a laugh.

"Move down, sweetheart." Jisung got you off his face and you shuffled down as Felix sat on the bed himself. He shifted and settled himself between Jisung's legs, their cocks nearly brushing each other so they were in the right spots. You saw where it was heading and were a bit nervous. You were used to Felix inside your ass, and Jisung was thicker by a good bit. It was hard for you to wrap your head around what you saw as a submissive move on Felix's part to Jisung.

"Can you take both at the same time?" Felix asked and you nodded nervously, willing to try though.

"Good girl, sweetheart." Jisung cooed and wrapped his hands around your upper waist, your boyfriend’s on your lower hips. They helped you adjust, Felix kissing over your upper chest and the other man sucking hickeys over your shoulder blades. Your skin was on fire already, so when the heads of their cocks both pressed at both your entrances, it was like falling in lava. You let out a high-pitched moan, nearly squealing as they filled you, inch by inch. They were about the same length, but Jisung's thicker cock spreading you at the same time as your boyfriend's cock filled your cunt. They let you adjust after burying to the hilt, each one had a leg draped over the other's hip to be close enough for the position to work. Because you were shorter than them both, you were all about level and you shivered, trying to get used to being so incredibly full. Jisung shifted and you squeaked, his hand sneaking past your peripheral sight. You thought he was going to wrap his hand around your throat, pull you to him, but it instead went to the back of Felix's head. You blinked and gasped when Felix moved at Jisung's behest. Your boyfriend thrusted into you, and you fell forward onto his chest. You tipped your head to watch as Jisung pulled Felix closer, then sealed his lips to the other man's. Your walls clenched at the sight, kind of in shock. Felix was a bit surprised as well, but he just rolled with it. You wondered if your boyfriend was like this with any of the other boys, or just Jisung. When the one behind you let Felix go, he nipped the other's lower lip. Felix panted, burying his head in your neck, moaning softly. He had never been so submissive before and you both gasped when Jisung jumped his hips up, thrusting into you hard.

"Kay, 'Lix." He nodded and laid back more so he could leverage off the bed with his back pressed into the mattress. Felix's hips were forced up along with Jisung's with each trust, and he more grinded into you than anything, letting his friend do more of the work. Without both of them holding you, you would have fallen, your body shaking and weak as they fucked the sense out of you. Everything burned in the best way, and you felt tears flow down your cheeks as you whimpered over and over.

"J-Jisung!" Felix grunted and you could feel his cock twitch, signifying he was close.

"Hold on, 'Lix." His friend groaned, his hips pumping harder, and you hiccupped, trying to catch your breath.

"Okay, cum." Jisung ordered, and you weren't sure if he was talking to Felix or you, but all three of you fell apart together. Your insides filled with heat, so much that it spurted around the edge of where their cocks met you, making a sticky mess. Both you and Felix fell, boneless, him on the bed and you on top of him. Jisung chuckled, sitting up and you keened as he withdrew from you. He smiled at the sight of you two and Felix stroked your hair as you panted on top of him.

"Didn't know you were so rough, Ji~" You mewled as he got off the bed. He huffed amused and Felix mumbled into your ear, "neither did I.”

-> Series Hub <-

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[theostrophywife]

I love everything that you write and I was wondering if you would write a Ruhn fic where the reader is a friend of Byrce and are in a secret relationship but then get caught making out by the others and there all happy for them? Please and thank you.

best friend's brother.

author's note: it's been a hot minute since i've gotten the chance to write, but i was feeling our boy ruhn so please enjoy.

Ruhn fucking Danaan. 

The Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae and the absolute bane of your immortal existence. 

The Vanir male leaned against the doorway of your apartment, dressed in his usual all black outfit despite the heatwave currently sweeping through Crescent City. Silky black hair cascaded down his shoulders and covered the Starsword draped against the back of his leather jacket. 

“What the hell do you want?” You growled through the small opening of your door. 

Behind you, the noise of the small housewarming party that had somehow spiraled into a rager thanks to Bryce filled the hallway with the pulsating beat of a pop song. Ruhn raised a brow and dangled the Aux badge between his fingers. His tattooed bicep flexed slightly as you swatted  his hand away from your face. 

“I didn’t know crashing house parties were so high up on the priorities of an Aux leader.” 

“It isn’t, but I made an exception for you, sweetheart. If I’m being honest, I’m quite offended that you didn’t even bother to invite me.” Ruhn smirked at the sight of your frown. “I’ve been told I’m the life of the party.”

“Bryce said you had the late shift,” you grunted. “And even if you didn’t, this was supposed to be a small gathering. Close friends only.” 

The Crown Prince flicked his tongue over the hoop pierced through his bottom lip, his heated gaze sweeping over your body. Against all common sense and logic, the sight made your toes curl in your high heels. 

“Considering the amount of times I’ve seen you naked, I’d say we’re a little more than close.” The sensual and seductive purr of his voice threatened to melt you into a puddle of arousal right at Ruhn’s feet. 

You pushed him into the dim hallway and shut the door behind you. “Say that a little louder, why don’t you? Everyone inside may be drunk, but that doesn’t mean their hearing suddenly stopped working. Your sister included.” 

“I don’t care if Bryce knows about us. You’re the one who seems Hel bent on keeping it a secret.” 

“You know how Bryce feels about being kept out of the loop. She would go absolutely ballistic if she knew we’ve been seeing each other behind her back. I mean, the best friend and the older brother? How cliche could we get?” 

Run closed the gap between you, his intense blue gaze dipping to your mouth. “So what do you propose? You want to put an end to things?” 

“No,” you retorted quicker than you’d intended. Ruhn’s lips twitched into a smile and you realized that he was baiting you. “I just think…we should take things slow. Warm Bryce up to the idea of us together. Maybe go out to dinner or something.” 

“Are you asking me out on a date, sweetheart?” 

“Not if you’re going to be an asshole about it.”

Ruhn rolled his eyes. “I’d love to take you out to dinner, but only if I get to have you as dessert afterwards.”

Before you could answer, the door swung open. As casually as you could manage, you put space between you and Ruhn as Bryce and Hunt peeked out into the hallway. 

“Ruhn, what are you doing here?” 

“Being a pain in my ass as usual,” you answered with a frown. 

“Honestly, I don’t get how the two people I love most could bicker so much,” the redhaired female said with a bemused smirk. 

Hunt appeared slightly offended, but seemed inclined to agree with his mate. “That’s because Danaan can’t seem to quit while he’s ahead. No matter how many times he gets his ass handed to him by the little witchling.” 

Ruhn snarled, which only spurred his sister on further. “You two reek of sexual tension. If you ask me, you two should just spar it out in the bedroom for all our sakes,” Bryce stated matter-of-factly.

Burning fucking Solas. The gates of Hel may as well open and swallow you whole. 

“I’m honestly not drunk enough for this,” you muttered under your breath while shooting an incredulous look at your friend. “Which is just as well, since it looks like the Aux is officially shutting down this party.”

You subtly shot a pleading look at Ruhn. Please get these people out of my apartment. 

The Crown Prince had the audacity to smirk. It would be my pleasure, princess. 

I hate when you call me that.

Ruhn tried to subdue the shiteating grin spreading through his handsome face. 

And yet you’re asking your Prince Charming to rescue you from the big, bad party.

You glared at the Vanir male, but nearly sighed in relief as he ushered the crowd currently crammed in your living room towards the door. His roommates included. 

“Busted.” Flynn remarked, shaking his head at Ruhn. “That’s cold Danaan, even for you.”

Ithan, Declan, and Tharion all crowded around the Fae lord, who threw an arm over your shoulder before kissing your cheek goodbye. “See you later, babe.”

You swatted Flynn’s arm away, but smiled nonetheless. The male may be a shameless flirt, but you’d grown fond of him. Ruhn, on the other hand, appeared to be considering ripping his friend’s arm from your shoulder, but said nothing as his roommates filtered past him. 

“You coming, Ruhn?” Dec asked. 

“No, I’ll help clean up. Since you assholes are probably too drunk to even pick up a mop.”

Tharion whistled. “Someone’s in a mood, aren’t they? Don’t get your crown in a twist, Your Highness.”

Ruhn only glowered at the mer who winked at you for good measure. As though he knew exactly how much it pushed his roommate’s buttons. Luckily, Bryce shoved Tharion out the door before he could annoy her brother further. 

“We can stay and help clean up, too.” Hunt offered.

“No,” you and Ruhn answered almost instantaneously. 

Bryce raised a suspicious brow. Hunt’s knowing stare flickered between you and Ruhn before the angel smirked. 

He tugged at his mate’s wrist, garnering her attention. Thank Urd Bryce was drunk enough not to second guess the distraction. “I think they’ve got it handled, Quinlan. Besides, are we really the best pair to offer assistance with cleaning?” 

Bryce sighed in defeat. “Point taken, Athalar.” 

With that, your friend enveloped you into a hug and bid you goodbye. “If Ruhn gives you a hard time, just beat him with your broomstick,” she whispered non-discreetly. 

Ruhn snorted. “Don’t give her ideas.”

“Get home safe,” you said with a chuckle as you waved Bryce and Hunt goodbye. 

And finally, fucking finally, the door closed and you breathe a sigh of relief. You loved your friends, you really did, but socializing took a horrendous amount of effort. You needed to recharge. 

“Are you actually going to help me clean?”

Ruhn hummed in response, threading his fingers with yours. “I’d rather make a mess of you instead.”

Alone at last, you wasted no time and raised on your tiptoes to kiss him, savoring the surprised sound he makes and the smirk that followed after. Ruhn tasted like a mixture of peppermint with a hint of honeysuckle and you sighed in satisfaction as he kissed you back fervently, giving and taking in equal measure. He cupped your face, gently dragging the cold metal of his lip ring over the hollow of your throat in a way that makes goosebumps erupt all over your arms. 

His moan is a low and teasing timbre in your ears as he grazed your earlobe. “Admit it, princess. You missed me.” 

If only Ruhn knew how many times you kept finding yourself wishing he was beside you throughout the night, the male would never let you live it down. “It was…dull without you here.”

Ruhn raised a brow, pulling away to look at you. That startling shade of blue painted you with heat. “Fine. I missed you, Ruhn. I always fucking miss you. Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

“Perhaps I need a little convincing,” the male teased, tilting your chin up. “It looked to me like Flynn and Tharion were keeping you occupied.”

“Jealous much?” 

He smirked. A slow, feral smirk that showed all his teeth. “Not even close. Neither one of them could handle you,” Ruhn declared confidently, cupping your ass lightly as you moaned in response. “It takes a special sort of male to handle you, my little witchling.”

You swatted at his chest, but said nothing to deny his accusation. “You’re a pain in the ass, Ruhn.”

“Maybe so, but I’m your pain in the ass.” He squeezed your right cheek in his large hand before giving it a light smack. “And what a sweet ass you’ve got.”

“Gods, just fucking kiss me already.”

Ruhn’s cock strained against his jeans at the utter neediness in your voice. His fingers snaked through your hair, tilting you back right where he wanted you before his lips crashed into yours. You were filled with relief as the taste of Ruhn overwhelmed your senses. You had no idea what it was about this male, but you couldn’t fucking get enough of him. 

You’d missed this. Missed him. More than you cared to admit. 

A satisfied moan slipped past Ruhn’s parted lips before his tongue prodded against yours. The kiss was a clash of lips and teeth, heated and desperate as though you’d never get the chance to taste each other again. You bunched up the front of Ruhn’s shirt and pressed him closer, kissing him over and over again until you felt lightheaded and dizzy.

You were so consumed by him, so drunk on your own desire, that you didn’t even hear the front door opening. It was only when Bryce’s soft gasp echoed through your apartment when you finally pried yourself away from Ruhn. 

“I fucking knew it!” 

The red haired female stood at the door with her arms crossed. Hunt grimaced behind her, shooting you an apologetic look as his mate swatted at his chest. “What did I tell you, Athalar?” 

Instead of anger, Bryce looked triumphant. A reaction that you did not expect to receive from your friend after she’d caught you heavily making out with her brother. 

“You’re not mad?” you asked, gaping at Bryce. 

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. It was only a matter of time before this happened. You two are about as subtle as a bull in a china shop.”

“I’d say,” Tharion said from the doorway, leaning against the frame as Flynn and Dec peered over his shoulders. “Though I enjoyed watching Ruhn nearly pop a blood vessel every time I flirted with you, I’m glad we can all stop pretending not to notice the puppy dog eyes you two make at each other when you think we’re not looking.”

Flynn chuckled. “Sickening, really. But in an adorable way.”

Your eyes widened in accusation. “You all knew?”

Dec grinned sheepishly. “To be fair, you two weren’t very good at hiding it.” 

Ruhn crossed his arms, slightly angling himself so that you were behind him. You couldn’t see his face, but you heard him all the same. 

I’ll take the blame. I kissed you. I crossed the line. You don’t have to—

Ruhn.

His gaze flickered to you, an unreadable emotion dancing in his eyes before you twined your fingers through his. 

I don’t want to keep us a secret anymore.

A small smile formed on Ruhn’s face. So you admit that there’s an us.

You rolled your eyes, but mirrored his smile all the same. Don’t push your luck, Danaan.

He winked before squeezing your hand. You turned your attention back to your friends. Confusion danced on their faces as you pulled out of your silent conversation. 

“Ruhn and I are…seeing each other.” You fixed a hard glare at the males standing in your doorway. “And if anyone gives him shit about it, I’ll nail your balls to the wall.” 

Flynn and Declan winced, but Tharion only smirked. 

Bryce grinned, but threw you a pointed glare. “Brunch tomorrow. I need details of how this lovely union came to be.”

You sighed. Bryce would no doubt grill you over eggs and pancakes, but it was worth it if it meant that you and Ruhn could stop sneaking around. 

“Fine, Quinlan.” You replied with a fond smile. “But first, get the Hel out of my apartment so Ruhn and I can finish what you so rudely interrupted.”

Your friends groaned, but beamed nonetheless as they once again departed. As Bryce sashayed into the hallway, Ruhn triple checked that the door was firmly locked and that all of your wards were in place. 

Once he was satisfied, he hauled you over his shoulder and strode straight for your bedroom. You giggled as he deposited you onto the mattress. 

“I believe I promised to make a mess out of you,” he growled against your ear, pinning you underneath him. “And you’ll find that I’m a male of my word, princess.”

You smirked, tugging him down to you. “Prove it, Danaan.”

So he did.