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yuramour · 2 days ago

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I THINK HE KNOWS — F1 GRID

synopsis. trying to keep your crush on a certain driver a secret isn't exactly easy. but do they know about it, or not? pairing. f1 grid x reader (ft. mv1, yt22, ln4, op81, gr63, cl16, lh44, dr3, aa23, cs55, ih6, jd7, eo31, ka12, ob87) genre. fluff, headcanons warnings. mild secondhand embarrassment, maybe some suggestive themes, mostly coworker!reader, some of these are noticeably longer than others. my bad word count. 3k-ish (200-ish each)

note. this slowly devolves into silliness. alsoooooo, im tryna have a more consistent upload schedule, but i did just get a job and im taking online classes over the summer, so like, its hard to find the time to actually sit down and write. i'm trying, tho!! hope you guys enjoy this one :p

MAX VERSTAPPEN

۶ৎ completely oblivious

of course, it was glaringly obvious to everyone but max. everyone else saw the way you immediately stopped whatever you were working on to stare at him whenever he wandered into the red bull garage. ever since you started working for red bull as an analyst, you had the biggest crush on max. at first, it was just a harmless thing, blushing whenever he was in your general vicinity, your coworkers giggling and elbowing you whenever he walked into the room. the teasing from your coworkers was really the most annoying part at first. but now? the most annoying part by far was how max was just apparently totally oblivious to the fact that you liked him. you weren't even keeping it a secret anymore like you were at the beginning. you'd all but asked him out at this point. but he had absolutely no idea. it wasn't until charles teased him about how you stared at him during the driver's parade that max realized. it took him aback at first, but trust he'd never felt more dumb than when he realized you were in fact hitting on him all that time. asks you out the next time he sees you.

YUKI TSUNODA

۶ৎ has a suspicion

he could be wrong- maybe. but for the past several months, yuki's had a feeling that all those times you've brushed against him in the hallway, stared just a little too long during team debriefs, and laughed a little too hard at his jokes meant you saw him as a little more than just a coworker. it's hard for him to keep to himself- you haven't actually said anything that would indicate that you like him, so he doesn't want to bring it up. which sucks for him, because he really likes you, too. the way your hand feels on him when you pat him on the back after a race, the way your voice sounds when wishing him luck, the way your eyes soften when they meet his- it gives him butterflies. but he doesn't want to tell you. maybe he's just scared of rejection- because what if he's wrong? what if you don't actually like him? you have to be the one to tell him first. his imposter syndrome refuses to let him make the first move. he's elated when you do- a grin breaking over his face, a soft "i knew it" slipping from his lips.

LANDO NORRIS

۶ৎ thinks you hate him

maybe it's just the way you show affection- but lando thinks you can be a little...mean. not just a little mean- really mean. lando genuinely thinks you hate his guts. the way you refuse to make eye contact with him, the way you practically flee the room whenever he enters- he's convinced you have something against him. lando's a sensitive soul, he can take things a little personally. and you're perfectly content letting lando think you hate him if it means he never finds out ab out your stupid little crush. on another note, lando's absolutely flabbergasted when oscar makes a passing comment about your little crush on him- leaving both of them confused; lando because he was convinced you hated him, and oscar because he thought your crush was so blatant. oscar was right, of course. you just have a rather elementary way of navigating your crushes on people. lando practically corners you about it the next day, your violent blush and stuttering at the sudden confrontation telling him all he needed to know. he asks you out properly and nicely after that.

OSCAR PIASTRI

۶ৎ he knows but you have no idea he knows

oscar clocked your crush immediately. he's an observant guy. but he's so incredibly normal about it. you have absolutely no idea that he knows. the thing is, he thinks he's being obvious about liking you back. he'll open doors for you, give you his coat when you're cold, open energy drink cans for you, and he thinks it's incredibly obvious. the problem? you just think he's the kind of guy that'd do all that stuff anyway. because he's just so relaxed with it. it goes on for MONTHS. you both thinking you're being plainly obvious about your feelings for each other, and oscar just simply not wanting to be the one to make the first move. lando eventually knocks some sense into him- telling him to just ask you out because you're obviously not going to be the one to initiate it. as soon as he does, you're taken aback- not having expected oscar to be into you, too. but of course he was. how could he not be?

CHARLES LECLERC

۶ৎ thinks its all platonic

charles thinks that you're just a good friend- his best friend. doing things that all best friends do. of course a best friend would drop everything because he asked you to go out and do something. of course a best friend would go out of their way to come to all his races. of course best friends hug each other for extended periods of time after a bad race. he thinks you're just his best friend. because none of his other friends really do things like that- you must just be that good of a friend! right? no. of course not. you are head over heels in love with charles and you always have been. and he's never noticed. to be fair, you didn't exactly want him to. you were scared of the rejection you'd face if he ever found out. he's the charles leclerc. why would he go for you? even if you were his best friend. funny enough, it's his mother that ends up spilling your secret. charles thinks she's just joking at first, but once he realizes she's not, he's absolutely mortified. not only because he never realized it, but because he's felt the same about you for years, thinking you only saw his as a friend. calls you over immediately and confesses everything.

LEWIS HAMILTON

۶ৎ he knows, but doesn't say a word

lewis, ever the gentleman, notices your crush immediately, but chooses to keep it a secret. because you obviously don't want him to know about it, otherwise, you wouldn't be keeping it a secret. he thinks its charming more than anything. completely endeared by the way you immediately blush and look away whenever he makes eye contact, scurrying away like a little mouse whenever he ever so politely asks you to do even the most miniscule task. he didn't have any feelings for you at first- but the more time he spends observing you, the way you interact with others, your kindness, your individuality, he falls for you slowly but surely. you know lewis is a good man, so when he asks you to go to dinner with him, you think it's just to show his thanks to you for being such a hard worker. when he tells you how he feels about you, you feel like you're about to melt out of sheer embarrassment. lewis watches the blush take over your face with a soft laugh, your reaction reminding lewis exactly why he liked you in the first place.

GEORGE RUSSELL

۶ৎ thinks it's just a joke

even if you are so completely blatantly obvious about having a crush on george, he just thinks you're kidding. any time you openly flirt with him, he just laughs along and takes it as a joke. it gets to a point where you're all but telling him to his face that you're in love with him, and he's just like "haha, good one!" straight up, for a man that's so in love with himself, you think he'd be able to take a hint. but no. he's blind to the truth. and he's like this for MONTHS. you are LAYING IT ON, and he just does not understand that you are being 100% for real. only gets it when you literally corner him and tell him blatantly to his face that you are genuinely actually into him. he's both flabbergasted and overjoyed bc this rich boy gets zero play.

KIMI ANTONELLI

۶ৎ he has NO idea

silly silly boy. despite the fact that you've followed him around the world since you were kids, been by his side the entire time, through his best and worst days. he just doesn't see it. and you'd never tell him, of course. you value your friendship too much to ruin it over a stupid little (not little at all) crush. but still. who tf basically puts their entire life on hold to follow their best friend around the world? either someone who's in love, or someone who's just that good of a friend. in your case, it's the former. but unfortunately, kimi thinks you're the latter. he doesn't even realize he's in love with you until he's talking about you to ollie one day, just absolutely gushing about you and ollie's just listening like "...😐 you're stupid." after kimi realizes how he feels, he tries to keep it to himself, but accidentally lets it slip out one day while talking to you. to his ABSOLUTE SHOCK (idk how it was a shock he's lowkey blind), you feel the same about him.

ALEX ALBON

۶ৎ he knows & is very obvious about it

he KNOWSSSS. AND YOU KNOW HE KNOWSSSSS. unfortunately, as an employee for Williams, you know that dating a driver is looked down upon at the VERY LEAST. so despite the fact that you keep it as professional as possible, any and every time you so much as make eye contact with alex, this mf giggles. like, actually giggles. like a middle schooler. you don't even really know how he knows. but you suspect that carlos told him after you let it slip to him one day that you thought alex was cute. but nevertheless, you never let your interactions go beyond relaying basic information and wishing him luck before a race. but one weekend, you and alex end up with you hotel rooms booked right next to each other, somehow leading to alex basically living in your room all weekend. after that, it's all longing stares across the garage and holding hands in secret.

CARLOS SAINZ

۶ৎ totally blind to it

i think he just likes to think that you're a very kind and respectful person. like, he says jump and you ask how high, type shit. despite the fact that you try to keep it a secret at first, you realize that he is truly never going to get it unless you start like, actually putting the moves on this man. he thinks you're just a really nice person until one day it just slaps him in the face that you're literally obsessed with him, and he just feels SO stupid bc of it. like, you are all but offering to literally become his personal maid and he hasn't realized until now??? not very smooth operator of him. when he suddenly starts flirting back to you, you realize the vibe switchup IMMEDIATELY and you know he's clocked you</3 he asks you out on a casual coffee date at a cute quiet little cafe and it's very sweet and fluffy and eughhhh i hate (love) him so much.

ISACK HADJAR

۶ৎ again, thinks you hate him

poor baby thinks you getting red in the face and cutting the conversation off early whenever he tries to talk to you is indicative of you hating him and not of you getting flustered by his mere presence. he's pacing back and forth wondering what he could have possibly done to make you hate him, meanwhile you're in the other room pacing back and forth wondering how the hell you're ever going to be able to tell him you're basically in love with him. isack eventually decides to just be as nice as possible; getting you coffee, doing his best to make your job easier for you, complimenting you whenever he notices you've done your hair differently or whatever. unfortunately, this may or may not make things worse bc you have no idea how to take a compliment and just mumble a "thanks" and immediately leave the room whenever he does so. eventually, one of your coworkers talks some sense into you and convinces you to tell isack how you feel. shocked and elated don't even come close to describing how isack feels when you finally confess to him. relationship immediately starts from there, and he's basically obsessed with you and giving you allllll the words of affirmation.

JACK DOOHAN

۶ৎ thinks its just "bestie vibes"

again. stupid boy. stupid dumb boy. let me set the scene; you and jack have in fact been best friends for as long as you can remember. you weren't even into him at first, but after not seeing him for a while, and all of a sudden, he comes back as an accomplished formula driver, not to mention he's like, half a foot taller and significantly more ripped than he was the last time you saw him, something definitely changed in the way you looked at him. but of course sweet oblivious jack is just happy to hang out with his best friend again after so long. the two of you take a trip to the beach not too long after he gets back, and you have to physically stop yourself from staring at his abs for too long. ofc he just thinks you're looking at him so longingly bc you missed your best friend (him) so bad. that same night, the two of you get a little drunk and you accidentally call him hot to his face. oops! he thought about it for a solid ten seconds before he realized that he, in the back of his mind, thought the same about you. i just love this himbo so bad okay :(

OLLIE BEARMAN

۶ৎ he WANTS you to, but has no idea

to ollie, you were just so fucking cool. always so poised, level-headed, always cool under pressure. and he was absolutely head-over-heels for you. he practically followed you around like a lost puppy everywhere you went. not just because he's always getting lost at social events, but because he wanted to be near you as much as he physically could. to ollie, you were totally and completely out of his league. he wanted so badly for you to notice him as more than the guy that you were getting paid to basically babysit and make sure he doesn't say anything stupid to the media. little did he know, you'd been charmed by his cute smile, sweet demeanor, and puppy-like tendencies since the day you met him. he thinks he's seeing things when he starts noticing the blush that creeps up on your cheeks whenever he says something sweet. "wishful thinking" he tells himself. he swears he's dreaming when you knock on his hotel room one night and say that you have a secret to tell him. and he practically dies from happiness when he wakes up the next morning with a text from you confirming that you meant it when you told him you liked him.

ESTEBAN OCON

۶ৎ he's SUSPICIOUS of you

what do you want from him?? why are you so nice to him? what are you planning?? are you, the sweet alpine employee that says hi to him every morning in the paddock with that cute little smile spying on haas for your team??? he notices the way you come to the haas mobile home to "visit your friend" that works for the team. every time you wish him luck on the race in passing, he narrows his eyes and nods curtly, suspicious of the way you always happen to bump into him. little does he know, he keeps seeing you around because you have the biggest crush on him. you're close with a couple of the guys on the haas pit crew, and they've been trying for months to get esteban to notice you. which he has. just not in the way that you hoped. it all comes to a head when esteban relays his suspicion to your friends on the haas team, all of whom are absolutely flabbergasted that that's the conclusion he came to. they couldn't possibly let him go on thinking that. esteban is completely floored when they tell him you're always hanging around not because you're spying for alpine, but because you have a crush on him. immediately pulls you aside the next time he sees you and apologizes for being so unwelcoming towards you. he takes you out for an apologetic dinner, and realizes you're actually really great :p

DANIEL RICCIARDO

۶ৎ he knows and you know he knows

not only does he very obviously know, he teases you about it. you're too stubborn to give him the satisfaction of telling him flat-out how you feel. that's exactly what he wants. so you let him tease you, taking the shit-eating grins, flirtatious jokes, and the way he gets just a little too close for comfort in stride. you absolutely refuse to give him any kind of confirmation when he leans in, going "come on, i know you like me a little bit." it gets to a point where he's gotten on your nerves so much, you're not even sure if you even like him anymore or if you're just so stubborn, you can't even admit it to yourself anymore. it goes on for literal years. you think it's finally over when daniel leaves red bull. finally, you can let go of your stupid crush and live the rest of your life in peace knowing you won't have to deal with the australian ever again. but no. of course not. despite the fact that he was now in renault, he would come sidling up to the red bull mobile home just to flash you that shit-eating grin with a painfully flirty "how you doing?" all that time while he was in red bull, the possibility that he liked you back hadn't even crossed your mind. you thought he was just kind of a dick, teasing you for being into him. turns out, he was just waiting for the moment you weren't working for the same team so he could ask you out properly. "surprised" doesn't even begin to cover how you were feeling after he told you after the 2019 season was over.

taglist: @bear-yawns @revelauver

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thegreatgoatby · 2 days ago

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Here's how I think each of the digital circus members got stuck in the game, based on what we learnt in episode 5

Going in order of who I think arrived first, I think Kinger got there because he worked on the game. He mentioned 7 years of computer science for this and also seemed to know a lot about the game. And if it's true he got there first, that would mean he's been in the game for multiple years for the building to be abandoned now. This would also explain why he is so crazy, being stuck there for years is bound to make anyone lose their mind.

Ragatha in ep 5 said that she worked in real estate, so I think she could have been trying to sell the building or was looking it over and got stuck in the game from there. Goose also said she arrived after Kinger.

Jax I have no idea. There's not a single clue I have to how he got there. I like to think that he was just a pathetic loser and was being bullied into going into an abandoned building like in those movies. I don't think this is true at all but it'd just be funny as hell since I have no other theory.

Gangle I think had the darkest reason for ending up in the digital circus. I honestly think she was going into the abandoned building to kill herself. Based on a lot of things she said, I think she had given up on life and was planning to end it before she got trapped.

Zooble might have been exploring the abandoned C & A building just for fun, just based on their one line in ep 5.

Pomni I think had the same reason as zooble, exploring an abandoned building just for fun and ended up trapped in it. But, since Pomni said she posted videos about it, I wonder if that's how they could end up being saved. If someone saw Pomni's video. I don't know how she would post it if she got stuck, but maybe someone finds her camera or something and sees the footage. Just throwing ideas out there.

Also have multiple reasons for believing the C & A building is abandoned, based on the imagery of the computer being old. Also the fact that I think the AI in the game is starting to glitch out now because of how old the game is. But that's just a theory, a game theory.

Yeah that's all. just some random ideas thrown out there cause I really enjoyed episode 5 👍

#the amazing digital circus #tadc theory #tadc gangle #tadc ragatha #tadc jax #tadc pomni #tadc zooble #tadc kinger #tadc #digital circus #tadc episode 5 #tadc ep 5

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ggukivrse · 2 days ago

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THIRD TIME'S THE CHARM | JJK

summary. when you complain to jungkook about your lack of action in the past year, you're not really asking for a solution. but when he casually offers to help, you just can't seem to bring yourself to say no.

after all, what's the worst that could happen in hooking up just this once?

pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader

genre: friends to lovers, smut, fluff, slight angst

word count: 7.7k

warnings: swearing, they actually talk about their feelings :0, explicit sexual content, kissing, making out, hickeys, dry humping, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (be smarter than them pls), a bit of banter, petnames (baby), they're really fucking cute in the end it makes me sick, let me know if i missed anything!

notes: idk if this counts as my first completed series buttt... i'm gonna act like it does. thank you so so much to all the love and support you guys have given me for the past two parts, i'm genuinely so beyond grateful for it all :<< hopefully, you guys enjoy this part too!!

ps. READ PART ONE HERE & PART TWO HERE!!

⌗ masterlist. ⌗ taglist. ⌗ feedback

You open his chat window again like it’s muscle memory. Like your thumb don't know how to not betray you.

It’s not even about sending something. You’ve got no intention of doing that. At least, that’s what you tell yourself. But the screen is always open, staring back at you with that last unread message you sent almost a week ago — a throwaway meme you found on your lunch break. No reply. Not even a reaction.

And it hadn’t felt like a big deal in the moment. You sent it like always, light and dumb and nothing. But then the nothing kept going. No little gray typing bubble. No 'lol.' No double text. No late night 'you up?' Just this wall of silence.

You would’ve rather gotten a dry reply. Hell, even a thumbs up. Anything to prove that he saw you.

But now it’s been long enough that sending something new would feel desperate. Like you’re chasing him. Like you’re asking for something you’re not even supposed to want.

You lock your phone and throw it face down on your bed.

Then pick it back up five seconds later.

Then toss it again, harder, as if that’ll prove something.

You wish you were mad. You think you are mad — at least a little. But it’s a tangled kind of anger. One that knots itself up with embarrassment and sharp, bitter shame. You want to scream at him, yeah. But also at yourself.

Why did you let this happen?

Why did you let him blur the lines and kiss you like that and touch you like he meant it?

You were supposed to be smarter than this.

You lie back across your bed with one arm flung over your eyes. It’s stupid. You know it’s stupid. It was just sex. Just two nights. Two insanely good, dangerously close, way-too-connected nights. But still — technically just sex.

Except it wasn’t.

Not when he remembered your favourite sauce order without asking. Not when he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear while you ranted about work.

And especially not when he went cold the second things felt too good.

That’s what keeps twisting the knife. That shift in him. Like someone flipped a switch and rewrote the script. One minute, he was holding you like you mattered. The next, you were stepping out of his bathroom and into a stranger’s apartment.

You haven’t heard his voice since.

You bite the inside of your cheek and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to push down that lump of feeling before it rises too high.

It’s fine. You’re fine. You’re overthinking it.

Maybe he’s just going through something. Maybe he didn’t mean to shut you out. Maybe he thought you didn’t want to hear from him. Or maybe he’s just a fucking coward who got scared when the stakes changed.

But then, why didn’t you reach out?

Why didn’t you ask if he was okay, or tell him he was being weird, or demand an explanation like you’re owed one?

Because you’re afraid.

Because you don’t want the truth if the truth is that he regrets all of it.

Because deep down, you know this isn’t just a friendship anymore, and pretending it is would break you worse than silence.

Your phone buzzes once on the comforter beside you.

You freeze. Then sit up fast, breath catching halfway in your throat.

Your eyes are already scanning the screen before your brain can fully catch up.

Kook 🍜: hi

One word. Just hi. Like the last seven days didn’t happen. Like your stomach hasn’t been in knots trying to make sense of his silence. Like he didn’t vanish without warning after folding you into his sheets and leaving you to figure out what the hell it meant.

Your breath leaves you in one uneven exhale.

You blink at the message, your body locked in this strange stillness. Your thumb hovers, frozen. Part of you is tempted to stare at it until it disappears. Ignore it. Let him feel what it’s like to be the one left hanging. But your hands betray you again — just like they always do with him.

You: Radio silence for a week and all I get is a fucking hi? Wtf Jungkook

It’s not even what you really want to say, but it’s the closest thing you can manage that doesn’t sound like I missed you so much it made me sick or please don’t do this again.

Three dots appear.

Your heart squeezes like it’s caught in someone’s fist. And then the dots vanish.

Then come back.

Then vanish again.

You mutter, “Fucking say something,” to no one. It comes out too small, too desperate. You shut your eyes tight for a second like you can wring the feeling out of yourself by force.

A minute or so passes before his reply finally sends.

Kook 🍜: sorry. can i talk to you today?

You reread it so many times the text starts to lose meaning. Can I talk to you today?

You feel sick.

There’s no way you don’t know what this is. The phrasing. The tone. He wants to talk? What the fuck else could that mean, if not that he’s about to cut things off? That he’s going to hand you some polite little speech about how you’re great, but this can’t happen again. That he wants to stay friends and he doesn’t want to confuse things any more than he already has.

Or worse — he thinks you guys are better off cutting contact all together.

You bite down hard on your thumb, suddenly on the verge of tears and furious at yourself for it. You should’ve never let it get here. You should’ve drawn the line before the second time. Before the car. Before the party.

You should’ve been more careful with your heart.

But you’re here now. So far past the line you can’t even see it anymore.

You open your keyboard, then close it again. You want to ask what he wants to talk about. You want to demand answers over text so you don’t have to see his face when he says the words. But you know you won’t get anything that way.

You: Where?

Kook 🍜: i can come to yours

You sit there for a second, just breathing. You feel like you’re bracing for a crash that’s already midair.

You: What time?

Kook 🍜: i can be there in an hour?

You don’t answer. Not right away. You’re too busy staring at your reflection in the dark screen, wondering why your face looks so calm when your body feels like it’s trying to collapse in on itself.

You: Okay

You put the phone down carefully, like it might go off again, or explode, and turn your gaze to the ceiling. Every minute after this is going to stretch like it’s mocking you.

You don’t know if you’re getting closure or clarity. You don’t even know which one would hurt more.

But you know you won't cancel.

Because if this is going to end — if he’s going to say it — it has to be to your face. You need to see it.

You need to know for sure.

Jungkook is fucked.

Like, actually, cosmically, irreversibly fucked.

He stares at the elevator doors like they’re the gates to hell, and his own reflection in the brushed metal does him no favours. He looks tense. Jaw tight, shoulders hunched up high like he’s trying to fold himself into a more manageable version. Someone chill. Someone who isn’t about to shit himself over the thought of seeing you.

He rolls his shoulders back, shakes out his hands. Useless. He’s already sweating through his hoodie.

Every nerve in his body feels like it’s tuned an octave too high. Like if someone so much as breathes in his direction right now, he’ll either snap or confess something humiliating.

He wipes his palms on his jeans again. That’s the fourth time since the lobby.

The worst part is, he knows how he got here. He knows exactly when it happened, too — the moment the line moved.

It was your laugh. The tired kind, all cracked at the edges after that hellish Friday you had. You were curled up in his passenger seat, half out of it, feet tucked under you, and you’d looked over at him with that soft, worn-down smile.

And it just… hit him.

The weight of it. Of you.

He wanted to reach over and touch your face. Not to tease. Not to start something. Just to feel your skin under his fingers like it was allowed now.

And the second that thought formed — clear and blinding and way too tender — it was over. Game fucking over.

Because it wasn’t supposed to feel like that.

You’re his best friend. Have been for years. He knows how you take your coffee, how you organise your playlists by mood, how you chew on the inside of your cheek when you're anxious. You’re not just some girl he hooked up with at a party. You’re you.

And now, he’s standing in an elevator on the way to your apartment, trying not to think about how badly he messed it all up.

He hadn’t meant to ghost you. Not really. It was just — after that night, after the way you looked at him, all warm and trusting — he panicked. Full-body, brain-scrambling, total system failure. He couldn’t even look at you without feeling like he was seconds from saying something stupid like "Don’t sleep with anyone else, please," or "I think I’m in love with you."

So instead, he shut down. Did the one thing he always swore he wouldn’t do with you — he pulled away. Got weird. Avoided it. Avoided you.

And now you’re pissed.

Rightfully so.

He deserved that text you sent. Probably worse. You could’ve ignored him completely and he wouldn’t have blamed you. But you didn’t. You texted back and he’s clinging onto that like a lifeline. Because it means there’s still time. Still a chance to fix it — if he doesn’t blow it again.

He presses the heel of his hand to his chest like that might steady the erratic rhythm of his heart.

What the fuck is he even going to say?

Sorry for being an emotionally constipated idiot?

Sorry I ghosted you because I realised I’m in love with you and it short-circuited my whole fucking personality?

Sorry I thought I could fuck you and still keep pretending like you don’t mean more to me than anyone else?

The elevator dings.

Jungkook flinches like it slapped him, then scrubs a hand through his hair, lets out a tight breath, and steps through the doors before he can change his mind.

He’s here.

Fuck. He’s actually here.

Jungkook looks like he didn’t sleep last night. Hair messy, clothes a little wrinkled, eyes flicking up to meet yours for a second before they dart away again. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his jacket like he’s afraid of what they’ll do if left unsupervised.

You tell yourself not to feel relieved. Not to let it show. He didn’t cancel. He showed up. That shouldn’t mean as much as it does. It really, really shouldn’t.

But still — there’s something in your chest that unclenches when you see him standing there, real and present. Even if he does look like he’s about to apologise for burning down your house or something.

“Hey,” he says, voice quiet.

You step back from the door to let him in. Dry. Wordless. The move is automatic, but your body feels stiff with it, like your own muscles are annoyed on your behalf.

He hesitates before stepping inside, like he thinks the floor might swallow him up. You don't offer a smile. Don't even look at him once the door’s closed behind him.

You cross your arms and lean back against the edge of the kitchen counter, watching him with a blank expression that’s only half-real. The other half is tightly coiled under your skin — anger, sure, but under that, all the feelings you’ve been pretending not to have.

He does a slow, uncertain glance around your apartment like something might’ve changed since the last time he was here. But it hasn’t. It’s still your place. Same plants, same overhead light humming softly, same faint scent of laundry detergent that clings to the air.

He stands there awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It’s like he doesn’t know where to put his body.

You’ve never seen him like this before. Not around you. Jungkook’s always been comfortable here. The kind of comfortable that leaves shoes by the door without asking. The kind that opens your fridge like he owns a shelf. But right now, he looks like a stranger in someone else’s house.

You let the silence stretch out. You’re waiting for him to just speak, but he doesn’t

He doesn’t even try.

Eventually, your voice cuts through the air, a little too sharp. “Jungkook, you said you wanted to talk.”

His head snaps up like he forgot that was part of the deal. Like the fact that he came here at all already cost him everything he had in reserve.

“Yeah,” he says. His throat moves when he swallows. “I do.”

You raise your eyebrows, waiting.

He opens his mouth like he’s about to start, then closes it again. Shifts his stance. Rubs the back of his neck with one hand. You catch the way his eyes flick to the floor, then back to you, then away again.

You narrow your eyes. “Well?”

He breathes out a weak, almost bitter laugh and runs both hands down his thighs, like he’s physically trying to ground himself. “I don’t know how to do this,” he mutters.

You frown, arms still crossed tight across your chest. “What? Talk?”

You hate being like this towards him — you feel like a bitch. But it’s the only way that you can stop yourself from just spilling all of your thoughts and feelings to him.

“No, I—” He breaks off, jaw flexing. “No. I mean… say the right thing. Say any of it without sounding like an idiot.”

You blink, unimpressed. “So you came here without knowing what you were gonna say.”

He looks at you then. Fully. And for the first time since he walked in, you see the real wreckage behind his eyes. There’s nothing cool or casual about it. He’s unravelling in slow motion. Everything about him is quiet desperation wrapped in someone trying really hard not to fall apart.

“I didn’t know what to say because I didn’t know what I wanted,” he says finally. “And then I figured it out, and that somehow made it worse.”

You stay silent.

He shifts closer, not by much — just a few inches. “I fucked up,” he adds, voice barely above a whisper. “I know I did. I know I disappeared. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t care. I was just—” he stops, jaw tightening again. “I got scared.”

You scoff under your breath and look away.

“I’m serious,” he says, softer now. “It freaked me out. How fast it happened. How much it changed.”

You look back at him, jaw set. “What changed?”

He swallows again. Stiff. His voice cracks a little when he speaks next.

“You,” he says again. “How I feel about you. That changed.”

Your chest tightens.

You don’t react, not visibly. You keep your face still, unreadable, even though your brain is suddenly scrambling. You’ve been yanked in too many directions this past week. You’re not going to lean into hope just because he finally decided to speak.

So you say nothing. You just hold his gaze and wait.

Jungkook takes a breath, his shoulders rising with it, then falling in a slow, deliberate exhale. The nervousness is still there — but it’s settled into something quieter now.

“I kept trying to tell myself it didn’t mean anything,” he says. “That it was just— whatever. Two friends, getting carried away. We were drunk the first time, right? It was easy to lie to myself about that. Easy to say it didn’t have to go anywhere.”

His voice is calm, but there's tension underneath it.

“But the second time?” He pauses, tongue running along the inside of his cheek, eyes still locked on yours. “That wasn’t drunk. That wasn’t casual. That was me driving us across town just to make you feel better, because I can’t stand it when you’re not okay.”

You flinch — barely — but he sees it. You know he does.

“And then it was me kissing you like I’d lose my mind if I didn’t. You think I didn’t notice how different that felt? I’ve never kissed you like that before. And I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air between you.

You’re still standing by the counter, arms crossed, but now your grip has loosened. You hate how much this is getting to you, how badly you want to give in, how your chest aches just hearing him say the things you’d only let yourself think when the lights were off and your phone screen was dark.

Jungkook takes another step toward you.

“When I brought you back to mine that night… when you came out of the shower, and I saw you just standing there in my space, looking at me like I was safe…” His voice catches, but not in a way that makes him crumble — just enough to show the truth of it. “I freaked the fuck out.”

You blink at him, finally speaking. “Yeah. I noticed.”

He huffs out a breath that's almost a laugh, but not quite. “I didn’t mean to shut down. I didn’t even know what I was doing in the moment. I just— everything in me wanted to pull you close, and that’s when I realised I couldn’t keep doing this the way we were doing it. Not without losing my shit every time you left.”

Your throat feels tight, but you still ask, “So you decided to ghost me instead?”

That lands. His jaw flexes, and he nods once. “Yeah. I did. I thought if I gave it space, I could go back to being normal. Go back to just being your friend. But I couldn’t. I can’t.

“I don’t want to be just your friend anymore. Not because of the sex, not because it was good— which it was, but that’s not the point. It’s you. It’s always been you. I didn’t realise how much until I almost lost it completely.”

You swallow hard. Your arms are uncrossed now. Not folded in, not defensive — just hanging at your sides like you’re too stunned to remember what to do with them.

Jungkook steps in closer. Not touching you yet. But near enough that you can smell him — faint cologne, his laundry detergent, the scent you associate with your car windows fogging up.

“I missed you,” he says, and his voice turns softer. “Every day. And it scared the shit out of me, how badly I wanted to talk to you. Touch you. Just be around you. I wasn’t ready to admit it last week, and I was a coward for that. But I’m not running anymore.”

Silence again.

Except it doesn’t feel like the ones you’ve been drowning in for a week.

“I don’t know what you’re feeling,” he says, lower now, like the words might break if he’s too loud. “And I’m not assuming anything. But if you still want me around— really want me— just say the word. I’ll figure out the rest.”

You inhale slowly, try to even out your breathing, but your chest still feels like it’s barely holding together. Your heart’s doing that thing where it thuds too hard without speeding up.

You hate that you believe him. That you always would’ve. That no matter how angry you were, no matter how cold you tried to be when he walked in — you still wanted him to explain, to prove it wasn’t what your worst thoughts told you it was.

And now he has.

He’s standing in front of you with open hands, with the words you oh so desperately wanted to hear. And for a moment, you’re not sure what to do with that.

“I hate you,” you say quietly.

It’s not true. Not even close. But it’s the first thing that leaves your mouth.

Jungkook huffs out a dry laugh, eyes dropping to the floor. “Yeah,” he murmurs, nodding. “I figured.”

You shake your head once. “No. I mean it. I fucking hate you for this. For—” You break off, because your voice is shaking now. “For making me feel like I was crazy. For not even saying goodnight after… after everything.”

His face tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“You could’ve just told me,” you go on. “You could’ve said it was too much. That it got weird. That you needed time. Anything. But you disappeared. And I had to sit here wondering if I made it all up."

You pause, pressing your lips together.

“And I— I missed you too, you know,” you add, quieter this time.

His mouth opens like he might speak, but no sound comes out at first. Instead, he closes the space between you by half, slow and steady, like he’s afraid of pushing too far.

“God, you’re such an asshole,” you whisper, but your tone isn't mean. Not even close.

He laughs, soft and low. “Yeah. I know.

“You promise me you’re sure? Cause Jungkook, I will fucking cut off your dick if you pull this shit again.”

He smiles but doesn’t hesitate. “I promise. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

You stare at him.

Long enough that the air between you stretches taut, thin as thread.

His hand twitches like he wants to reach for you but still doesn’t know if he’s allowed. His jaw flexes, his chest rising and falling in uneven swells. You can tell he’s waiting — for a sign, for a go-ahead, for you.

And even though part of you still wants to be mad, still wants to make him sweat just a little longer, the rest of you aches. For his mouth. For his hands. For the solid, grounding weight of him.

So you move.

You step into the last inch of space between you and grab the front of his hoodie. He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for a year, but you don’t give him a chance to say anything.

You kiss him.

Not out of impulse. Not for show. You kiss him because you need to. Because your chest feels like it’s going to split open if you don’t.

At first, it’s quiet. Just lips pressed to lips — careful, slow. There’s a pause between each pass of your mouth over his, like you’re both trying to remember how this started. How you even got here.

But then he sighs against you — not loud, not dramatic, just a sound full of relief — and it unravels something.

His hands lift, hesitating for only half a second before they settle on your waist, fingers curling tight. You press closer, and his lips part beneath yours. The angle shifts. Your nose bumps his cheek. It’s not perfect, but it’s real, and when your tongue brushes his, everything tilts.

The sweetness melts fast.

He makes a sound low in his throat and drags you in like the distance is unbearable. Your hands slide up into his hair, fingers threading through the strands at the base of his neck, and the way he reacts — the little shiver he tries to swallow — sends heat straight down your spine.

You kiss him harder.

His body crowds yours until your back meets the wall. Not rough, not rushed. Just firm. His chest presses to yours, and you can feel the way his heart races. How your own pulse kicks up to match it.

The kiss deepens, turns messy at the edges. His teeth catch your bottom lip and your breath stutters, but you don’t pull back. You tilt your chin, chasing more, and the next time he kisses you, it’s hungrier. One of his hands slips to the small of your back, palm dragging slow and warm beneath your shirt. The skin-to-skin contact makes your whole body twitch.

You gasp into his mouth, and he swallows the sound, his hands tightening. His other arm slips around your waist completely, pulling you flush against him, and suddenly you’re not thinking anymore. You’re just feeling.

The tension that’s been bottling up between you two — the silence, the week of wondering, the ache of missing him so much it hurt — it all floods to the surface.

You fist your hands in his hoodie, yanking him impossibly closer. Your hips shift forward, just enough to brush him, and the sound he makes is sharp and involuntary, caught between a breath and a groan.

“Fuck,” he mutters, barely pulling back. His forehead presses to yours, breath ragged. “You’re driving me insane.”

You huff, lips brushing his. “That’s fair.”

Then he kisses you again. Rougher this time. Desperate in a way that makes your knees go soft.

He doesn’t stay at your mouth for long. His lips trail down — your jaw, your cheek, the shell of your ear. His breath is hot and uneven, and when he finds your neck, your whole body reacts. Your hands clutch at him, your back arches off the wall, and the soft sound that escapes your throat isn’t one you mean to make.

He feels it. Hears it. Answers it with a low, reverent sound that seems to vibrate straight through you.

His tongue traces the spot beneath your ear, slow and deliberate, and your eyes flutter shut.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, your breath catching sharp in your throat. You pull back for a second before lowering your mouth to his neck, right where the collar of his hoodie dips. He lets out a small sound, hands flexing on your waist, when your lips press there.

You start slow. You can feel his pulse under your tongue, the way his chest rises against yours, unsteady and warm. Then you part your lips and suck gently at the spot just below his jaw. His whole body stutters, hips jerking against yours before he can stop it.

Your fingers trail down his chest, tugging his hoodie collar aside for better access. His head tips back, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted.

You do it again, this time with enough pressure to leave a mark, and the sound of your mouth working against his skin is lewd.

He groans. It’s low and rough and barely held back, and the sound shoots straight between your legs. You feel him hardening now, undeniable through the fabric where he’s pressed against you.

“All mine?” you whisper, your lips brushing over the new mark you’ve left.

He doesn’t even hesitate. “All yours.”

His voice is breathless. Wrecked. And so damn certain it knocks something loose in your chest.

You pull back just enough to look at him — really look. His pupils are blown, his lips swollen, a flush climbing high on his cheeks. He looks at you like he wants to devour you. Like he would if you let him.

“I missed that mouth,” he mutters, hands gliding under your shirt again, palms broad and warm. “Missed everything.”

You kiss his throat in reply and drag your teeth across it until he swears under his breath.

His hips grind against you again, harder this time. You both feel it — the friction, the heat building between your bodies.

His arms shift beneath you and he lifts you clean off the ground in one smooth motion, hands strong under your thighs. A startled sound escapes your throat as your legs wrap around his waist on instinct, gripping him tight.

“Fuck,” he mutters again, forehead dropping to your shoulder. “I want you so bad it’s actually stupid.”

You smile, drunk on the feel of him.

“Bedroom?” you murmur, tracing your lips over the new mark blooming against his skin.

He hums lowly, and shifts his grip on your thighs.

He carries you through the hallway and your lips never leave his skin for more than a second.

When he reaches your bedroom, he doesn’t hesitate. He steps inside and drops you onto the mattress in one fluid movement.

You barely get your bearings before he’s crawling over you, slotting his body between your legs, His mouth finds yours again, and you moan into it before you can stop yourself when his knee presses between your legs.

Your hips twitch, grinding down against the pressure, and he groans in response, the sound vibrating through your chest as his mouth moves with yours. His hand slips under your shirt again, this time bolder, fingers spanning across your ribs and inching higher until his knuckles brush the curve of your breast.

You gasp softly, and he pulls back just enough to murmur, “Off.”

You sit up just enough to grab the hem of your shirt, tugging it over your head in one smooth pull, your hair mussed from the friction. He watches the fabric fall to the floor, then looks at you.

“You’re so fucking pretty," he breathes.

You roll your eyes automatically, even though your face is already burning. “Shut up.”

“I’m serious,” he says, and his voice drops low. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

His lips part and he kisses along your sternum — slow, wet presses of his mouth that trail up and then out, over the swell of one breast, then the other.

You inhale sharply when his mouth grazes the sensitive skin beside your nipple, and his eyes flick up at the sound, pupils blown. He kisses lower, then higher again, murmuring against your skin, “Can’t believe I went a week without this.”

The vibration of his voice right against your skin makes you arch, and he meets you halfway, grinding down slow and deliberate, like he knows exactly what you’re chasing and wants to stretch it out just to watch you squirm.

Your hands curl into his shoulders, nails biting down just enough to make him grunt softly into your skin. He rolls his hips again, slow and heavy, and the pressure against your core has your breath catching in your throat.

“Koo,” you whine out.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, lips pink and wet, hair falling into his eyes. He grins, crooked and hot and deeply pleased with himself.

“Yeah, baby?” he asks, and his voice is pure sin.

You glare, but your thighs shift open under him anyway.

“Please.”

He hums, satisfied, and starts working his way lower. Every kiss is wet and unhurried. Down your chest, across your stomach. His hands follow, smoothing over your ribs, down to your hips, dragging the waistband of your pants just slightly with them. His thumbs hook in the fabric, pausing right above your pelvis.

He looks up at you, smug and dark-eyed.

“Gonna let me take these off?”

He's so annoying you're gonna kill him. “Do I look like I’m stopping you?”

“No,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss just below your navel, “but I like hearing you say it.”

You huff, fingers threading into his hair again. “Take them off, Kook.”

He eases them down slowly — too slowly — dragging the fabric down your legs while his mouth follows in a path of heat and pressure. He kisses your hipbone, your inner thigh, every patch of skin he uncovers like it’s something sacred. When your panties go next, he makes a quiet sound in the back of his throat — more reverent than smug this time.

You’re already wet, already aching, and from the way his eyes flicker as he takes you in, he fucking knows it.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “You’re soaked. You missed me that much?”

You exhale hard, cheeks hot. “Shut up and do something about it.”

He grins again, slower this time. “Anything you want.”

His hands grip your thighs and spread them further apart, and before you can say another word, his mouth is on you.

The first swipe of his tongue is long, and delibirate. You jerk at the contact, a broken sound slipping from your lips, and he groans like he’s the one falling apart. His hands tighten on your hips, holding you in place, and does it again.

Every movement of his tongue is practiced and precise. He starts slow, almost gentle, licking through your folds with a kind of focus that makes your head spin. Your thighs threaten to close around his head, but he pushes them apart with ease, never breaking rhythm.

Your hands move to the back of his head, gripping tight. His tongue circles your clit once, then again, and the third time he sucks it between his lips. You try to stifle a moan, but it slips from your lips anyway.

He pulls back just enough to speak, breath hot on your skin.

“Keep making those sounds, baby,” he murmurs, voice wrecked. “Wanna hear every fucking thing I do to you.”

He movements turn faster, his mouth messy and hot and relentless. You’re already close, the build-up sharp and climbing, and he can feel it. One of his hands slips lower, spreading you open further with his thumb, and his tongue drags in tighter circles.

You’re writhing, panting, toes curling into the sheets. Your fingers tug at his hair, your spine arching off the bed.

“Fuck— Kook—” you gasp, head thrown back.

He groans again, the sound vibrating straight through your pussy. He doubles down, mouth moving faster, and when your hips start to stutter, erratic and desperate, he presses his hand over your stomach, grounding you.

“You’re gonna come for me?” he murmurs against you, mouth slick with you. “Gonna let me taste it?”

You nod frantically, unable to speak, your whole body wound tight and ready to snap.

He presses his mouth against you again, lips sucking against your clit, and the feeling has you squirming with pleasure.

“Kook—” your voice breaks open as you come hard against his mouth.

He moans, but his movements don't stop.

Your body arches helplessly, heels digging into the bed, one hand fisted in the sheets, the other still tangled in his hair as you ride out the wave. You’re gasping, blinking hard, your heart trying to punch through your ribs.

Only when your legs start to tremble uncontrollably does he finally pull back.

His lips are slick and swollen, jaw damp, hair messy from where you’ve been gripping it. And he looks wrecked — eyes heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide, like just being between your thighs has undone something in him.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then drags his lips slowly up your inner thigh, leaving lazy kisses in his wake.

You’re still catching your breath, staring at the ceiling like your soul just left your body, when he plants a final kiss on the inside of your knee and murmurs, “Yeah. I’m never ghosting you again.”

You let out a breathless laugh, too blissed out to be mad. “You better not.”

“After that?” he says, crawling back up your body, slow and unhurried. “I’d be clinically insane.”

He settles over you again, pressing a warm, open-mouthed kiss to your stomach, then another between your breasts, then finally your mouth. You taste yourself on his tongue, and when he groans against your lips, it sends a fresh jolt of heat straight through you.

His body is flush against yours, his clothed cock thick and heavy where it presses against your thigh. You let your hands trail down his chest slowly to tug at the denim loops of his jeans.

"Want these off," you mumble against his lips.

He smiles and presses one last kiss to your mouth before he leans back onto his knees. His hands go to his belt, and you watch the way his fingers fumble for just a second.

He gets the buckle undone, then the zipper, the sound louder than it should be in your quiet bedroom. You watch as he shucks them down, boxers and all, and your breath catches slightly at the sight of him — flushed and hard and achingly ready.

“Better?” he asks, voice low.

You nod, breath shallow, and he’s already crawling back over you. The heat of him sinks into your skin as his body settles between your thighs, bare now.

Your legs part without hesitation.

His weight, the press of his chest to yours, the familiar scent of him wrapped in something raw and new — it all hits at once, and your whole body shivers.

He’s warm everywhere. The kind of warmth that soaks into your bones and makes you ache for more.

His hands slide along your arms until they find yours where they’re resting above your head. He threads his fingers through yours and presses them gently into the pillow, pinning you there. His eyes search yours, and you feel the first brush of him between your legs, just the tip, teasing the edge of you.

He doesn’t move yet. Just rests there, eyes locked on yours.

“You okay?” he murmurs, voice low and thick, like he’s hanging on by a thread.

You don’t answer — not with words. You just tilt your hips up, welcoming him in with nothing but a look.

He pushes in slow — painfully slow — each inch dragging fire across your nerves as your body stretches to take him. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp, your fingers clenching around his. When he’s fully buried inside you, he stills completely.

“Fuck,” he breathes, forehead dropping to yours. “You feel… unreal.”

You can’t speak — your body’s too full, too wrecked already — so you kiss him instead. Slow and sweet and a little desperate. Your hips rock up, seeking more.

He groans into your mouth, finally starting to move, and every thrust is so fucking deep. It’s not rushed or frantic. It’s him savouring you, like he wants to remember how this feels with every part of himself.

His hands stay tight around yours, anchoring you both to the bed, to each other.

The rhythm builds, a slow burn that spreads everywhere, and between kisses you catch the way he looks at you — like he’s seeing something he’s afraid to lose. Like there’s something he wants to say but can’t yet.

“You were supposed to beg,” you manage to murmur against his mouth, breathless. “Grovel a little.”

That crooked smile curls against your lips. “My bad, baby,” he murmurs. “You can make me beg next time.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re gonna regret that.”

He shifts his hips, thrusting deeper, and your breath leaves you in a ragged gasp.

“You promise?”

The challenge in his voice is smug, but his eyes are dark and glassy, his control hanging by a thread. You whimper in response, thighs tightening around his waist, and he dips his head to your throat, dragging his lips along your pulse like it’s the only thing tethering him to earth.

He starts to move with more purpose now, making you feel every second of it. His cock grinds into that spot that makes your vision blur, and your whole body tenses, fingers squeezing his like a lifeline.

The moan you let out is shameless, high and wrecked, when he tilts his hips just right — again and again, like he’s carving his name into your body from the inside.

“Right there?” he murmurs, already knowing. His hand slips between your bodies, thumb finding your clit with the kind of confidence that only comes from knowing you — every reaction, every sound. “God, you’re so fucking wet. You always get like this for me?”

“Koo—” His name slips out broken, a warning and a plea wrapped in one.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, voice ragged, forehead pressed to yours. His thrusts get rougher now, faster, the rhythm losing polish but gaining intensity. “Let me have you, baby. Come again for me.”

The words send a bolt of heat straight to your core, your whole body winding tight. His mouth crashes against yours before you can respond, tongue tangling with yours, greedy and open and honest in all the ways his words still aren’t.

When he pulls back, he’s panting, “You feel like heaven, fuck.”

You can’t even process it — not now, not when his rhythm stutters and his hips slam harder, each thrust jolting a cry from your throat. Your legs are trembling, your grip bruising where it clings to him, and you can feel the knot in your stomach tighening.

“That’s it,” he groans, watching your face like it’s the only thing that matters. “Let go for me. Let me feel you.”

You bury your face in his shoulder, teeth catching on his skin as your orgasm crashes over you. Your body locks up, thighs clenching, and you cry out his name. His hand squeezes yours back, holding you through it.

Your walls grip him tight, and he groans loud against your skin, hips faltering. “Fuck— shit—”

He thrusts once more before spilling into you with a broken sound, voice rasping your name like a prayer.

His whole body shudders as he comes, arms locked tight around you like he needs you to stay exactly where you are — here, under him, around him, real. His forehead drops to your shoulder, damp curls brushing your skin as he exhales, long and shaky.

Neither of you move right away. The air between you is thick with heat and breath and a comforting silence.

Eventually though, he shifts just enough to press a kiss to your collarbone. Then another, softer.

His hand slides along your waist, fingertips brushing lazy patterns into your skin. You hum under your breath — not a word, just a sound — and he responds by kissing your shoulder again.

Your legs are still tangled together. His body still half-draped over yours. There’s a mess between your thighs and sweat clinging to your skin, and you should probably say something, anything — but there’s something sweet about the silence now. It’s soft. Unspoken. Peaceful, in a weirdly intimate way.

He shifts again, easing out of you with a quiet groan, and you wince a little at the loss.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, running a hand gently over your thigh like an apology.

“It’s fine,” you breathe, eyes closed, chest still rising and falling too fast.

He doesn’t go far. Just rolls to the side, still close enough that his leg stays pressed against yours, and reaches for the blanket to pull it up over you both. He tugs you into his chest like second nature, burying his nose in your hair, his hand stroking absently up and down your arm.

“You good?” he asks softly, lips brushing your temple.

“Yeah,” you say, quieter now. “You?”

He pauses. Then he nods against your skin. “Yeah. More than.”

You lay there like that for a while, heartbeats evening out. He’s still drawing shapes on your skin — fingertips slow, mindless — and you smile to yourself, warmth blooming low in your stomach.

“So,” you murmur eventually, voice still hoarse. “What now? We high-five and call it a night?”

He huffs a laugh into your hair. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no to a high-five.”

You laugh, nudging him with your shoulder. “Cocky.”

“Confident,” he corrects, grinning. “But really—” He shifts a little so he can see your face, one hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “If we’re doing this, I wanna do it right.”

You blink, caught off-guard by the sudden sincerity in his voice. “Do what right?”

He raises an eyebrow, like it should be obvious. “Us.”

There’s a pause. You look at him, and he looks at you, and it’s terrifying and sweet all at once.

“I really like you,” he says, quieter this time. “And I’m not just saying that because I just got laid.” He cracks a small smile. “Though, to be fair, that was mind-blowing.”

You snort. “So humble.”

“I’m serious,” he says, nudging your nose with his. “I’ll take you out. I’ll plan dumb dates. I’ll be obnoxiously charming and show up with flowers. I’ll be— like— a gentleman, or whatever.”

You give him a look. “You should’ve done all that before you fucked me.”

His grin spreads. “Yeah, well. Guess I got the order wrong. You gonna hold that against me?”

“Maybe,” you say, lips twitching.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says, fingers brushing your cheek. “You’ll see. I’ll be so romantic it’ll make you want to punch me.”

“I already want to punch you.”

“And yet,” he says smugly, pulling you closer, “you’re still in my bed.”

“This is my bed, dumbass.”

He pauses. “Okay, fair. But I am naked in it. With you.”

You roll your eyes, but the smile on your face won’t go away. His arm tightens around your waist, and you let yourself relax into it — into him. For once, it doesn’t feel like something to second-guess.

He kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth.

You tuck your face into his neck and sigh. “You better bring the good flowers. Like the ones that don’t die in two days.”

“Oh, so now you’re picky?”

“You said dates and flowers. I’m holding you to it.”

“Noted,” he says, fingers threading into your hair. “I’m gonna be so disgustingly good to you.”

You laugh softly into his skin.

And he just holds you tighter.

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dollzstrology · 2 days ago

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⋆.ೃ࿔ 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍’ ᝰ Smoke stops by your shop, coming to check on you and the baby. After he’s with you for a while you realize he’s here for more than a welfare check, he interested in what’s between your thighs.

𝑭𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮… Elijah ‘Smoke’ Moore

𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻… Explicit; smut + fluff, porn w/ plot, fem!reader, spiritual!reader [hoodoo], envisioned as black!reader while writing, half-canon & half non-canon, very similar to Annie x Smoke dynamic, established relationship [married couple], mom!reader & dad!smoke, pregnancy [second trimester], pregnancy sex, oral [fem!receiving], p in v, dirty talk. 1930’s time period. southern/country dialect used.

𝑫𝑼𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵… 3.5k words

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑺 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑴 𝑾𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑹… This is my first ‘Sinners’ fic and I’m soooo excited to be posting it! I’m already obsessed with Micheal B. Jordan but this movie made me love him 1,000 times more! All my Smoke lovers lmk how you like this fic! As always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope you enjoy!!

𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑲𝑺… Sinners M.List ・Sinners Taglist ・Main M.list

It’s a slow day at the shop, the perfect time for you to catch up with creating some batches of fresh herbal teas and home remedies for your customers when they come by. You have your radio humming low in the corner, keeping you company as you sing along and work, grinding some dried yarrow in your mortar and pestle.

You’re about to reach for the peppermint to add into the blend when a quiet shift in the air makes your skin prickle. You feel a presence come behind you before it can even make its way into your line of sight.

Your hand slips to the straight razor beside your tray and you spin around, steel flashing in the light, holding it right under their chin. “Elijah…” you say slowly, drawing out the vowels as if you’re warning him. “How many times I done told you ‘bout sneakin’ up on me while I’m workin’?”

“Put that blade up, woman, ‘fore you nick me.” Smoke replies with his gold tooth gleaming in the sunlight, unfazed by the weapon at his throat, knowing you would never actually harm him, plus it’s not the first time you’ve had a razor blade to his neck. “I jus’ came to love on you a lil’ bit.”

You stare at him a second longer, eyes narrowed, then you huff through your nose and lower the blade onto the table. You set it down with a little clatter and let him gather you up in his arms. His hands cradle your small belly bump, lips pressing gently against yours. “You always sneakin’ around. One day I’ma really cut your ass.” You mumble in between kisses while still embracing his love, spewing out out a threat you know will just end up being empty.

“And you still gon' love me, jus’ like I love you with that fire in yo’ mouth.” He replies, referring to your slick tongue and the feistiness within you that’s always making an appearance. Before you know it he’s kissing you slow and tender, like he don't plan on leaving anytime soon.

You lean into it, breathing in his scent: woodsmoke, Irish beer, and gunpowder. You rest your hand on his chest, right over his heart, giving him one last kiss before pulling back. “What you doin’ here in the middle of the day? Thought you and Stack was gettin’ the juke ready for tonight.”

“We are. I just… wanted to check on you. And the baby.”

“We alright.” You say with a smile, loving how he’s become even more attentive since you told him you were in the family way. “She movin’ more lately. Likes when I sing to her in the mornin’.”

“She? You still holdin’ onto that?” Despite you having all the hoodoo abilities to tap into the spiritual and supernatural realm, your husband swears he knows the gender of the baby. “I’m tellin’ you, it’s a boy. Gon’ be just like his old man.”

“Lord, I pray that ain’t true.” You tease, laughing while walking over to where your candles are, grabbing a match and lighting the wick. Having to deal with Smoke and Stack everyday, trying to keep them safe, and make sure they stay out of trouble is enough to worry about, you can’t imagine having to deal with that times three.

While your husband watches you light a candle, his eyes wander to all the things surrounding you; herbs, mojo bags prepped like the one he has around his neck, and other things you use as a hoodoo practitioner, makes a frown appear on his lips. “I don’t like you doin’ all this magic shit while you carryin’. You don’t know what kinda spirits you callin’.”

Smoke’s never been able to grasp the in and outs of hoodoo, he’s never been the type of man to believe in things like that but it doesn’t stop him from supporting you and taking your word on everything because he believes in you. He’s always been fine with it and never interfered with your work but now that you’re carrying his child he’s concerned.

“I been doin’ this since before you even knew my name.” you calmly reply, understanding his point of view but wanting to reassure him everything is fine and the baby isn’t in harm's way. “I was born into this. My momma did it carryin’ me, and her momma ‘fore her. You know I don’t call nothin’ dark in here.”

“I know. But still, it makes me nervous.” He finds his way behind you again, wrapping his arms around your mid section, resting his chin in the crook of your neck. “You my whole heart and this lil’ baby too. I don’t want nun bad happenin’ to y’all.”

You lean into his embrace, letting his warmth wash over you like a river. You close your eyes a moment, feeling a sense of peace settle in your bones from his presence. “I’ll be alright. We both will.” You place your hand over his, gently rubbing your thumb against his skin. “I promise.”

Smoke turns you in his arms, kissing you deeper than he did earlier, this interaction feeling more fueled by lust than love. You feel the pull of him, the same pull that causes you to gravitate towards him when his body is calling for you.

Things with Smoke are always easy, you and him have the type of chemistry where certain things don’t have to be explained, like you and him don’t have to discuss how he yearns for you, how just you touching him makes him feel like he’s about to crumble. You’ve always been his safe place so when he comes to you needing comfort, to blow off steam, or some sweet lovin’, you’re always happily ready to provide.

Without breaking the kiss he takes off his jacket, throwing it somewhere on the floor before gently lifting you onto your work table, sweeping some of your jars to the side so they won’t get damaged. Your hands are already at the buttons of his shirt, and his mouth trails down your throat, his tongue swirling over the place where your pulse beats strong.

The ceiling fan above spins lazy circles above the two of you but it doesn’t cut down on the Mississippi heat or the fire burning between you and him. Smoke’s palms slide up your thighs, rough and warm, pushing your flowly dress up bunch by bunch ‘til he’s gets you exposed, your panties already damp from the way he's been touching you.

“You wet f’me already, mama?” he hums low, his thick fingers pressing against the wet cotton, a smug expression comes across his face that’s filled with pride. You bite your lip, nodding as he hooks his fingers in the waistband and pulls them down your legs, letting them fall to your ankles before taking them off.

“Always wet for you, ‘lijah,” you whisper, voice breathy and thick with need for what lies beneath his waist. “You know that.” He groans at the sound of his name on your lips, the only person on Earth who’s allowed to say his birth name, the only one who says it so sweetly it makes him want to hear it again and again.

He drops to his knees, kissing the inside of your thighs like he’s praying at an altar. The farther he moves up your body, slowly making his way to your sweet sweet center, you can feel your heart pounding with anticipation. Once he’s done teasing, his mouth meets your core, warm and wet, tongue parting your slit nice and slow, allowing your delicious taste to settle on his tongue before he starts to really ravish you.

You gasp when the warmth from his mouth comes in contact with your pussy, trying to control yourself before shoving his head deeper between your legs. His tongue gives your folds the most attention in the beginning, repeatedly moving up and down, giving you a nice warm up before he turns things up a notch.

Smoke’s starts giving your clit some love, the tip of his tongue gently grazing over it before applying pressure, causing your hips buck instantly and him to groan into your heat, making you moan from the vibrations. The more he eats your pussy, smearing your slick across his face, and him angling his mouth and sucking your clit so well it feels like your spirit is levitating, edges you closer and closer to releasing all over his face. “Mhm! Smoke, right there!”

If you could see the look on this man’s face there would definitely be a smirk across his lips, hearing those words from you, spoken in that needy tone you use when he’s hitting all those right spots, makes his dick rock solid. Of course with him being a gentleman ‘n all, his first priority is making sure his wife is taking care of, so he’s gonna make sure you get one off before he does… but not without making you work for it first.

Your fingers thread through his coarse hair, hips rolling up into his face to create more friction and help you chase your high faster. The moans that fall from your lips aren’t as soft as they were earlier. They’re raw, hungry, each one more whiny than the next. You can feel that pressure in your stomach beginning to build up and when you feel his fingers protruding the entrance of your pussy, you already know you’ll be cumming in a couple minutes or less.

When that feeling starts growing stronger and intense, about to take over your body and allow you that sweet release, Smoke pulls back making you glare at him as if he has two heads. “I know you ain’t gonna jus’—”

Smoke give you the smallest smirk as he stands up, licking your juices off his lips, already knowing how you’re about to finish that sentence. “I ain’t, baby. I jus’ wanna feel you wrapped ‘round me when I make you cum.” He undoes his belt, slow and deliberate, his predatory gaze looking at your body. You watch as he frees himself from his slacks, thick and undeniably hard, the sight alone making your mouth fill with saliva, wanting him to just fill you up already.

He helps you get off the table, lifting you by your waist and gently placing you on the ground. Once your feet hit the wooden floor he’s barking out orders. “Turn ‘round and put them hands on the table.” You obey without question, leaning forward and angling your ass in the air.

Once you're in position Smoke comes up behind you, pushing your dress up until it’s past your hips, giving him a full view of your ass that he’s practically obsessed with. He takes a moment to take in the sight in front of him, your pretty ass on display, your juices slowly dripping down your thighs, and your hole clenching around nothing, begging to be stuffed.

Your husband bites his lip, his dick twitching against his thigh in anticipation of what’s to come once he wrapped around your velvety walls. He gives himself a few strokes before gliding his dick across your folds, allowing your slick to gather on his tip and mix with his precum, using the fluids as a lubricant. He grounds himself in his stance and places himself at your entrance, slowly pressing himself inside you, stretching you wide open with his girth.

When he enters your wetness, a groan slips through his bared teeth, his hands wrapping around your full hips as he lowers his eyes and watches his dick begin to disappear into your heat. Even though you’ve had sex with Smoke a million times, every time he fucks you it somehow feels the first time. A sound flies out your mouth, something that’s a mixture of moan and cry when you feel him stretching you out every time he pushes another inch of himself inside you.

You’re not in pain, it’s just the delicious burn that comes with being with a man that’s well endowed. Your hands begin to grip the end of the table, needing to balance the pressure you’re feeling in your lower region. “I got you, baby. Jus’ relax.” Smoke whispers while placing a few soft kisses on your back, reassuring that he has everything under control.

Feeling his lips press against your skin makes you clench around him, so tight that he lets out sharp breath, trying to keep himself from busting on the spot. He's not even fully inside you yet and he’s already teetering on the edge of having his own orgasm. He allows both of your bodies to adjust, for both of you to become one flesh, slowly nudging his dick further and further into your pussy until he bottoms out.

After a few moments his pelvis is flush with your ass and he just holds there, waiting until you’re ready. Once you relax and he feels your body loosen up, he takes that as a green light to continue and start applying some real pressure. He slowly slides out, pulling out almost halfway before rolling his hips and pressing back into you, beginning a series of long strokes into your pussy.

Your mouth flies open, moans filling your small shop as Smoke thrusts into you with no plan on stopping anytime soon. He angles himself slightly upward, giving himself the perfect position to continually hit your g-spot until you cum around him. At this point you and him are both dripping in sweat, droplets traveling down your face and towards the spillage of your breasts and his trickling down his chest and torso.

You decide to not let your husband have all the fun and start throwing it back against him, meeting him in the middle of each thrust, creating an echo of your skin slapping together. Smoke groans, loving the sound of your skin colliding each time he pushes himself deeper inside you. “Pussy feels so good, baby. Makes me wanna get yo' ass pregnant all over again.” He mutters before throwing his head back.

Ever since you’ve become pregnant Smoke swears your pussy has become even better, which he didn’t think was possible. He doesn’t know if it’s because you’re more sensitive now, that you’ve been able to become so wet to the point he sometimes slips out, or your body is just preparing for the baby but either way he loves it.

“You talkin’ like I ain’t already carryin’ your baby.” you manage to pant between moans, lips curling up into a soft grin. “Lemme get this baby out first before we talk about another one.”

Smoke chuckles low, a sound that doesn’t come from him too often but when he’s around you it easily emerges. “Can’t help it.” he murmurs, breath hot on your skin. “You so damn good to me. Make me wanna keep you knocked up, full a’me all the time.”

He punctuates his words with a deep roll of his hips, hitting that spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyes. Your fingers curl around the edge of the table, knuckles white as you brace yourself against the slow, deliberate strokes that are unraveling you, thread by aching thread.

The scent of yarrow, rose, and the musk of your joined bodies hangs heavy in the air, brewing in the humid Mississippi heat. You feel like a woman possessed, bent and spread in the middle of your sacred space, lost in the kind of pleasure that only Smoke can provide.

It doesn’t take long before Smoke starts going harder and faster, his thrusts becoming relentless as tears of pleasure stream down your face. His pelvis slams against your backside with every stroke, the table rocking from your tight grip and his rough movements, causing a few jars of herbs to fall on the floor but you’re too fucked out to care. You cry out each time he hits the spot that makes your knees weak, your nails scratching at the wood while his balls slap against you.

“Say my name, baby.” he pants, giving your ass a nice hard love tap before his hand return to your hips. “Tell the whole Delta who fuckin’ you this good.”

Your breath catches, your body trembling with the raw fire he’s stroking inside you. You bite your lip, eyes squeezing shut as the waves of pleasure crash over you. “You fuckin’ me so good, Elijah.” Your voice trembling as the words spew out your mouth. “Can’t nobody fuck me like you can.”

He growls your name back, deep and full of hunger, sends a shiver straight down your spine. His hands dig into your hips harder, pulling you flush against him, every thrust driving deeper, more urgent. “You my woman.” he snarls low, voice rough like thunder, his possessive ways making an appearance. “Ain’t no woman on this earth meant for me but you.”

His words break through all your control and with a cry, your body collapses against his, your muscles convulsing in waves as you fall apart, every nerve ending going up in flames, breathes coming in sharp gasps as you let go. His name spills from your lips again and again, one of Smoke’s many weaknesses when it comes to you.

Smoke grunts as he continues to thrust inside you, repeatedly brushing against your g-spot until you quiver tightly around him again, your walls rapidly pulsing around his shaft. Your orgasm rips through you and a loud whine fills the air, your legs beginning to shake and your balance falter, causing your husband to tighten his grip around you so you won’t collapse on the hard wooden floor.

Soon after you Smoke’s body succumbs to its own pleasures, his orgasm washing over him as he releases his hot seed deep inside your walls, the thick sticky fluid reaching the depths of your womb, his body shuddering until his high levels out.

Smoke exhales a deep, satisfied groan as he gently pulls out of you, careful not to move too fast, not wanting to overstimulate you. Your body jerks slightly, a soft whimper slipping from your lips at the sudden emptiness. He leans down immediately, pressing a line of kisses along your spine like an apology, his strong hands gliding up your sides with a gentleness that replaces how rough he was just being.

“You okay, baby? I ain’t hurt you, did I?” he murmurs, voice low as always, but sweet, filled with a certain softness that only you are allowed to hear. He’s usually not rough with you, he hasn’t been since you’ve become pregnant but he’s been wound up, things with Club Juke and business deals, he needed this as an outlet for his issues but now that his brain fog has cleared he wants to make sure you’re alright because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he ever hurt you.

You shake your head, resting your forehead against the table, lips parting with a small, breathless laugh, still trying to regulate your breathing. “You ain’t hurt me, ‘lijah. I’m doing good, real good.” you whisper, eyelids heavy, wanting to just go home and soak in the tub. “But I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk right for a while.”

He chuckles at that, one that’s filled with satisfaction of his previous actions, that he once again fucked you ‘till you can barely walk. “Lemme help you out then.” Smoke easing you up into his arms, bridal style, like you don’t weigh a thing and placing you into the chair in the corner of your shop. He grabs a clean towel from the hook near the window and dampens it with some fresh water before he starts cleaning you up, making sure he's as gentle as possible.

When he finishes, he presses a kiss to the curve of your belly, whispering something low to the baby that makes you melt all over again. Smoke pulls up a stool and sits beside you, pulling you close until your head rests against his chest. “Think we scared off the spirits in here.” you mumble, giggling softly, knowing that your ancestors probably wouldn’t approve of you having relations on sacred ground.

Smoke chuckles at that, his hand stroking lazily over your thigh. “Well, they need to let grown folks do what they s’pose to do. Don’t need them watchin’ us no way.”

You hum softly, nuzzling closer, feeling his lips press against your temple and his hand making its way to your belly for the millionth time today, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your warm skin. “Gon’ be a good daddy to this baby.” he adds after a beat, his voice steady now, that rare, open affection in his tone. “Better than mine ever was.”

You lift your head just enough to meet his brown orbs, looking up at him with pure love in your eyes. “I know you will. You already are.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of the wind brushing against the shutters, the faint creak of the old ceiling fan above, and the gentle rhythm of your breathing syncing with his. “I love you, Elijah.”

“Love you too, mama. Always.”

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 — @Yungblud423 @nostlicions @loveabledovee @secretisme4 @pinkkycherrish @bl3ssyn @shamansha @queenofklonnie22 @rios-st4rs @Secretlifeofpreshap @bxrbie1 @t-wylia @bendoverboo18 @milesf4vg1rl @secret89sblog @gabbysbl0gg

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darkbluekies · 13 hours ago

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Countryside getaway

Yandere!mafia oc x reader

Summary: Silas has decided that the two of you should spend some time together, far away from his world, and you get to experience each other's real sides. No fear, no worries.

Warnings: mentions of crimes, mentions of murder, Silas dirty minded humor, but overall a softer oneshot

Word count: 2.3k

No one knows where you're going. Not even you. He has one hand on the steeringwheel, the other one holds your thigh.

He's wearing a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the tattoos on his arms.

“Keep your eyes on the road, map reader, or we'll never get there”, Silas says, giving you a teasing look.

“You have a GPS”, you mutter and turn your head more comfortably against the pillow.

“My GPS does not have your voice.”

“I don't even know where we're going.”

“You don't have to. Just read the directions.”

“How much further do we have to go? We've been sitting here for hours …”

“I did not know I had brought a child with me. I've planned something romantic and you're just complaining.” He caresses your thigh with his thumb, chuckling. “One more hour, little thing. That good enough for you?”

You groan and hide your face in the pillow and he laughs. He's different like this, when he's not surrounded by his men. When he's not in that space. Here, in his sports car with just the two of you, he's different. Softer. Human. It loosens your walls too.

“So whiny”, he chuckles. “Slept bad?”

“Don't kid”, you mutter and make yourself comfortable against the pillow again.

“Maybe we both need this. I need a break and you need to be able to sleep. Can't do that at home, can you?”

No, you can't. Not when he comes home in the middle of the night, bloody and roughed up. At home, you wake to every little sound with your heart beating in your chest.

“You know”, Silas starts, “its important to do this. To get away. Especially in my industry. Otherwise you get consumed.”

“Will SIC be able to handle things?”

“He has no choice.”

“Are you really okay to go by yourself? You’re recognizable.”

“Darling, they can't do anything. Thankfully, the law is strict and as long as there is no evidence connecting me to something they can't actually take me. They can suspect me, but never catch me. I'm fine.” He smirks, glancing at you. “Why? You're worried?”

You give him a glare and turn your head out the window.

“I'll break that facade down, Y/N”, he smiles and leans back in his seat. “We have four days all to ourselves. And I'll make the most of it.” His smirk deepens. “With no one around … I can take you just however I want to, whenever. And if I'm not wrong, SIC said that the house is remote. You can be as loud as you want.”

You slap his shoulder.

“Ouch, I'm driving here”, he chuckles. “Mind your hands?”

“Focus on your driving then.”

“How can I when you're sitting right here?”

His free hand on your thigh squeezes ever so slightly. You stare at him, contemplating opening the door and throwing yourself out on the highway.

The car has since long ago pulled in on a gravel road with no cars. Red flowers cover the fields around you, and for a second you're sure he has orchestrated it.

The house is smaller than Silas's house back in the city, less modern.

“Jump out, little thing”, he says as he unbuckles himself. “We're here.”

You stretch, legs wobbly from hours of sitting down. Silas unlocks the trunk and carries your bags inside. You stand in the middle of the gravel driveway, looking around and listening to the absolute lack of noise.

“Are you coming or what?” Silas asks from the front door. “Don't be slow or I'll carry you too. No gentler than these bags.”

You hurry after him. He smirks.

It's not hard finding the bedroom. A note lay in the bedding. Silas picks it up and scoffs at the familiar handwriting.

“Be nice to the bed, it's old, you break if you pay for it — SIC.”

“That son of a bitch”, Silas chuckles and turns to you, showing the note. “Seems like he read my mind.”

“You are kind of predictable”, you say.

Silas starts to walk towards you, backing you up against the nearest wall, wearing a soft smirk. “Me? Predictable? If I was predictable I wouldn't be a crime organization leader, my dumb little Y/N.”

You shrug. “I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, you’re good at saying things.” His hand sneaks up to your jaw. “How about you put your poor mouth to other uses for once? I know a pair of lips that would die to meet them.”

His cheesiness makes you scoff out a small smile, enough for him to close the distance. Ever since you’ve forced him to start using lip balm, his mouth is soft when it moves against yours. You sigh out and he swallows the sound in a greedy inhale. He holds you close, one hand on your back, the other on your jaw.

“Silas, you’ll bruise my lips”, you chuckle and try to turn your head away.

“Let me”, he breathes and directs you right back to his mouth.

And he does. He doesn’t half-ass things. He pulls back with proudness in his eyes.

“Let’s go shopping now.”

“Shopping?”

“We need food. Can’t just live off each other, unfortunately.”

He grabs your hand and leads you back out to the black sports car and you’re once again put on map reader duty to find the nearest grocery store. You can’t remember the last time you’ve actually grocery shopped with him. Normally, he sends out someone to buy things, and if he can’t trust anyone, he sends SIC. Just because Silas can’t be arrested, doesn’t mean he’s a hundred percent safe.

“Alright”, he mutters and grabs a cart. “Let’s pretend to be a normal couple.”

You can’t help but chuckle and he gives you a quick look.

“Let’s get this shitshow on the road, let’s go”, he mutters and nods at you to follow. “Don’t start running around or I’ll place you in the cart like a three year old. Okay, what do we need?”

“You need steak”, you joke.

“Damn right I do, but I get my steak from high quality butchers, I’ll get sick if I get it from a grocery store.”

“Aw, is your little tummy sensitive?” you ask, making sure it sounds more like “wittle”.

“Y/N, I’m warning you.”

His warning isn’t serious. Not now. Not like this. It only maks you smile.

“Are you going to be a brat all vacation just because you think I won’t do anything?” Silas asks behind you, pushing the cart into your back. “I did tell you we are remote, didn’t I?”

“Don't touch me or I'll scream.”

“Oh, you'll scream alright.”

“Silas!”

He chuckles, eyes softening. “I couldn't help it. You played that into my hands a bit too good to pass up on.”

“You’re so childish. Maybe you should tone it down on the threatening part if you don’t want more people staring at you. You don’t need to give them a reason to recognise you.”

Silas scoffs, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. He enjoys this side of you way too much. He can only enjoy it in situations like this, far away from his world. When you're not scared of him.

“What's the budget?” you ask him.

“What?”

“The budget? You said to pretend to be a normal couple. Normal couples don't have your credit card.”

Silas groans audibly.

“I'm not compromising my money”, he says. “Stop messing around, grab what you want.”

You handle the actual shopping part while he pushes the cart behind you. People glance at him, if not for recognising him, then for his tattoos, but he pretends to be unaware.

“Little thing.”

“Hm?”

“Grab those.”

You follow where he nods. Chips. They fall into the cart. So do a lot of other things Silas usually doesn't buy.

“Might as well go for it now that SIC can't bully me”, he shrugs.

The cashier seems to recognise Silas, but she doesn't say anything. Silas is polite and wishes her a good day, as if he wasn't who she thought he was, before turning to you and grabbing the plastic bags.

Back at the house, he puts everything into the fridge and starts to cook right away.

“You’re not allowed to help”, he says and taps your forehead. “I want to actually eat tonight.”

“I can cook”, you insist.

“Yeah. Sure. How about you go and set the table while I handle the knives and the stove?”

“Fine.”

You do as you’re told, searching the drawers for cutlery and plates. He glances at you from time to time and can’t help but smile. Maybe this was what he wanted all along? To play family.

“It’s not often we get to do this”, he says as he plates the food. “Domestic things, I mean. Should enjoy it while we can. Oh, I saw a pool out in the backyard, by the way. I think we should try it out after dinner. I brought alcohol from back home.”

“Drinking and swimming doesn’t sound very safe.”

“Then you’ll just have to rescue me. They didn’t teach you life guard duty in swimming class?”

“Yes, but they didn’t prepare me to drag a man that weighs enough to crush a car.”

“So my workouts are working?” His grin widens as he takes a sip of his water. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Conversation die out for a moment, but Silas won’t let the night pass.

“So?” he says. “Don’t you have something to say?”

“What?” you ask.

“We don’t often get to just talk. Spew something out. Anything.”

You think for a moment. You usually have a lot of thoughts, but when put on the spot all seem to vanish.

“I like the food.”

Silas laughs. Actually laughs. You haven’t hard a genuine, carefree laugh from him in a long time. His back eyes curl into half moons.

“What?” you ask. “What is it?”

“You can say a million things and that’s what you choose to say?” he says. “That the food is good? I didn’t think I cooked that good food, enough for that to be the only thing you think of.”

“You put me on the spot, I just said the first thing that came to mind!”

“Try again, then.”

“Well … I … could really go for some alcohol right now.”

Silas smiles and rises from his chair. He disappears out of the room and returns with two bottles. One brandy, one red wine.

“Okay, your majesty”, he says. “Which fancies your taste buds?”

“Wine, probably. Fits better with dinner. You'll get brandy, I suspect?”

“You know me well.” He opens both bottles and pours. “I'm responsible for you, so it's my duty to make sure you don't get absolutely decked.”

“I thought I was the one that had to make sure you didn't fall face down in the pool?”

“Yeah, but let's be realistic for a second. I can hold my alcohol … you? Please.”

“Rude.”

“It is not rude if I'm stating facts, you just want to deny your incapable alcohol consumption.”

You take a sip of your wine and glare at him.

Silas jokingly suggests you both skinny dip. You shoot down the idea. He's a predator, taking your whole arm if you foolishly give him a finger. You'd like your body working for your getaway.

You're not sure what prompts him, the alcohol or his childishness, to jump into the pool like a bomb. Water splashes everywhere, both on your dry form and your towels, and he breaks the surface with a wide grin. He pushes his black hair back and swims over to the edge. His tattoos warp under the water.

“I’m wet now”, you say in a ‘matter of fact’ tone.

He looks up at you, squinting one eye full of water shut. “Yeah? Jump in then.”

You decide to get in slowly, but he has other plans. His hand grips your wrist and pulls you into the pool. You yelp, but never have a second to worry about inhaling water, because he holds you.

“So much drama for nothing”, Silas chuckles and wipes water out of your eyes. "I've got you.”

His tattooed arms half hug you, half cradle you as he sways back and forth in the water.

“Today”, you start, hesitant, “when we were at the grocery store, and people looked at you, and what you said before that … I started to think about something just now.”

“What?” he asks softly.

“What do I do if you're taken? Or killed?”

“That will never happen.”

“But what if it does?”

Silas sighs, arms around you tightening slightly.

“If I ever were to never come back home for whatever reasons”, he started slowly, “then SIC would follow the instructions I’ve told him.”

“What are those?”

“To get you far away from everything and everyone and keep you safe. You'd get a cute little house on the coast where you could live peacefully. You'd have my dog, and how many bodyguards it takes to replace me. SIC would be there too. He’d check up on you.”

“That sounds pretty lonely.”

“What? Are you planning to become the Great Gatsby after I disappear?”

He caresses your face with a wet hand.

“I have money put away for you in case anything happens”, he promises and rolls his eyes. “And I might have made a deal with the devil to get you new papers in case something happens.”

“Who?”

“The parasite I'm unfortunately to call brother.”

“Ares?”

“Don't say his name. Let's drop this now. I don't want to think about it. Especially since it won't happen.”

The entire wine bottle is empty once the two of you get out of the pool and head to bed. Silas wears a dark Grey hoodie and sweatpants, insisting you wear comfy clothes too. He thinks it is better for cuddles. You're wrapped in his hoodie covered arms, face pressed to his chest. You'll be damned if you try to get out of his arms any time before morning hours.

Somehow, you wish this little getaway could last forever. Life would be easier that way. Silas sighs out, unbeknownst thinking the exact same thing.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere oneshot #soft yandere

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sabxynsweet · 2 days ago

Note

Okay, hear me out….

Mattheo and sweetheart in the common room and she falls asleep on his shoulder and Mattheo threatens a bunch of first years or whatever who come in loud to stop them from waking her up.

OR OR OR

sweetheart falls asleep on someone ELSE’s shoulder and Mattheo gets mad and jealous, and purposely wakes her up

sweetheart!reader falls asleep on enzo’s shoulder, mattheo's not having it

both these ideas are so cute i think i'll write both <3 here’s your second idea, thank you for the request lovely ! the opening of this is SO dramatic because these boys really are terrified of mattheo it's so silly

They say that right before you're about to die, your life flashes before you like a montage.

Enzo's experiencing that now, memories coming to him like scenes in a film reel while he's frozen sitting at the dining table of the common room.

If it wasn't bad enough that the two of you were paired up for an assignment for a class that Mattheo wasn't in, it was real bad now because you were fast asleep on his shoulder and he couldn't move.

Theo walks past and stops when he see’s Enzo with a look of pure fear on his face, similar to a deer caught in headlights.

"What's up, Mate." Theo asks, Enzo glances over at him with "help me" eyes, unable to move more than his eyes with you hindering his movements.

"Oh." He laughs, "Mattheo's not going to like that."

"Don't you think I know that." Enzo hisses, glaring at Theo who was still laughing, "Let's hope she wakes up before Mattheo see's."

"Before Mattheo see's what?" Mattheo asks, voice cold and low.

Enzo flinches, making you stir a little but, much to his dismay, you're still fast asleep. Theo simply grins and moves back to watch.

"Listen, she was nodding off, I didn't mean to-" Mattheo ignores him, walking closer. Enzo thinks that today he might die.

Mattheo barely even glances at him, instead, he gently taps on your shoulder.

You stir awake - properly this time - and when your eyes meet his, his eyes soften and his annoyance dissolves into nothing.

"Mattheo?" You mumble, your head lifting off of Enzo's shoulder, he breathes a sigh of relief and moves quickly to stand next to Theo.

"Hey." He says, "you fell asleep there."

"Oh." You yawn, "what time is it?"

"5."

"Oh," You say, a little happier now, "it's not too late for a nap right?"

He shakes his head, "no."

You smile, eyes fluttering close again.

"No, baby, you're not sleeping in this position." He snorts.

"Why not." You whine, "M'tired, just let me die."

"You'll hurt your neck."

"You know, it's so totally not my fault that I fell asleep because your common room is so dark."

"I know, Sweetheart."

"Anyone would fall asleep here." You mumble before attempting to sleep again.

He shakes his head, a small smile on his face.

"Come on, you can sleep in my dorm."

"Really?" You murmur, one eye peeking open.

He nods.

"Will you wake me up for dinner?" He nods again, you smile.

"You're my favourite alarm clock." You coo jokingly.

He rolls his eyes but he's still smiling, he reaches out his hand and you let him lead you up the stairs. You lean your body weight on him.

"Unbelievable." He just barely hears Enzo mutter from below, "he was ready to murder me and then she wakes up and he's prince fucking charming."

Mattheo rolls his eyes and continues to guide you, careful not to let you fall.

taglist: @fallingwallsh @espressqe @theodoresvalentine @fanfictiononly4 @genuinelyfloatingsouls @fayezasstuff @glittervame @wxnterwidow333 @thalibaby @cminoko @blainea98 @randomfanpage @megzz-x

#mattheo riddle x sweetheart!reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle fanfiction #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle soft #mattheo riddle x fem!reader

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boy-eater11 · 3 days ago

Text

ℳ𝒶𝓀ℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓉𝒾𝓇ℯ𝒹 ◦°⋆⋆°◦✬꧂

Volt x reader x Eddie- Smut

- You come to them late at night unable to sleep. The breaker box boys have a fun idea to fix that issue, and you're more than happy to participate.

CW: Polyamory, Nsfw, Praise, Threesome, Eiffel Tower, Oral M! receiving, Gn reader but AFAB anatomy, Hair pulling, insomnia,

It was late. Ridiculously late. But, you had already spent several hours laying in bed staring aimlessly at the ceiling, and you hadn't managed to make any more progress towards actually sleeping.

That's how you wound up nervously standing outside of the upstairs hallway closet, still wrapped in your blanket, anxiously debating whether or not your insomnia was troubling enough to bother your boyfriends.

You knew they would come to your aide, although Eddie would likely be reluctant, they would likely do whatever they could to comfort you. You also knew how important it was that both of them got plenty of time to relax. Running the breaker box was draining for both of them, and you had regularly been the one insisting that they needed to rest.

Sighing deeply, you opened the closet door, knocking on the small metal door of the breaker box and rubbing your eyes. Next thing you knew, you were in the empty club, two tired and concerned faces looking back at you.

"It's awfully late live wire." Volt said, placing a gentle arm around your shoulder. "Is something the matter?" He planted a soft kiss on your temple.

You shook your head slightly and sighed. "I'm alright... just couldn't sleep...' you said, frowning slightly.

"Aren't you the one who always tells us to get more sleep?" Eddie huffed out, although his voice was still soft and laced with concern.

"I am...I'm really sorry to bother you I just-" you mumbled out.

"I'm just teasing live wire...I'm glad you came to us." Eddie said, smiling softly and taking his place on the other side of you.

"What's keeping you up? Anxiety? Too much Caffeine? Stress? Lay it all on us my dear.' Volt said softly, rubbing gentle circles onto your lower back.

You shake your head softly, letting your shoulders relax and pulling the blanket draped across them tighter to your chest. "Too much energy I guess..."

Eddie chuckled, rustling your hair affectionately. "Well, you're welcome to cozy up with us for the night."

You could almost hear the slight smirk grow on Volt's face at the suggestion. He leaned down slightly, his lips hovering slightly above your ear. "We could always...make you tired..." His deep seductive voice sent shivers down your spine.

Your cheeks warmed as your mind quickly became flooded with less than holy imagery. The words loomed in the air for a moment, before you softly turned to meet Volt's suggestive gaze. "Do you....have anything in mind?"

The boys exchanged knowing looks before turning their attention back to you. Suddenly making you realize, they did in fact have something in mind.

"We've been wanting to try something new. We understand if you don't want to but...we were wondering if we could... Eiffel Tower you." Eddie mumbled out, his cheeks red with embarrassment.

Your jaw might as well have been on the floor. You had considered the idea before, although you had never expected the two of them to bring it up so plainly. "Are you serious?" You say, your eyes wide with shock.

Volt nodded, smiling sweetly. "We love you live wire, so if it's not something you want we will drop it immediately but-"

Without a second thought, you pulled his lips against yours. Eddie chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing himself up against your back. As you pulled away from Volt, you were greeted by the dazed but excited expression on his face.

"You sure about this live wire?" Eddie said softly, leaving a trail of gentle kisses across the side of your neck. You nodded limply, a dopey smile growing on your face. "Yes... absolutely..."

Volt smirked, slamming his lips back into you. He slotted his leg between yours, pushing you even further against Eddie, who gave a soft groan that vibrated against his neck.

Your eyes flutter shut, letting yourself fully melt into the feeling of the two men pressed against you. You felt Eddie's hands begin to wander, slowly pulling the blanket off your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.

As soon as it hit the floor, their hands were on you. Volt had one reassuring hand on your cheek and the other resting on your hip. Eddie's arms were wrapped around you, one slowly shaking it's way underneath the hem of your top and resting against your lower stomach.

You whined softly, causing Volt to pull himself off your lips and tilt your head up to meet his gaze. "Oh live wire... you're so needy aren't you?" His voice sent shivers through you.

Eddie chuckled at his words, finally pulling his lips from your neck and smirking proudly at the already visible dark blotches littering your skin. "So fucking gorgeous...makes it hard to contain myself." He muttered, his voice dropping slightly.

You whimpered softly, a shiver running down your spine as you felt his fingers gently hook into the waistband of your pajama pants. "You're still 100% sure about this right?" Volt said, his hand releasing from your hip to grip onto his belt.

"Mhm...god yes please." you whine, meeting his gaze with a desperate intensity. In response he kissed you again, and in one motion unbuckled and removed his belt, tossing it off to the side.

As he pulled away from the kiss, you made the next move. Very swiftly removing his pants and letting them drop to the floor. He groaned softly in response, and Eddie chuckled. "Oh damn, you're even more desperate than I thought."

Eddie slowly pulled at the hem of your pants and panties, teasingly slowly sliding them over your hips and letting them fall, leaving you exposed to the two men. You let out a soft moan as his fingers slipped between your thighs, teasing running over your lips before sliding his hand out again, revealing the thick coat of wetness coating them.

Volt chuckled deeply at the sight, palming himself softly through his boxers. "Fuck...this is going to be amazing..." His voice trailed. You then slid his boxers over his hips, letting his hard cock spring out proudly. You felt Eddie's hand push on your upper back, as he pulled your bare hips against him. Forcing you into position between them.

You wrapped a hand tentatively around Volt's cock, pulling him into your mouth. He gave a deep groan, letting his head roll back slightly. Eddie ground his hips against your bare ass, letting you feel his hard cock though his pants.

You let out a needy moan, sending vibrations through Volt that made him shiver, causing him to wrap his fingers into your hair. You heard Eddie undo his belt, letting his pants fall to the ground as he slid off his boxers. He pressed himself back up against you, letting his hardness press up against your exposed wetness.

You moaned again, and Volt tightened his grip on your hair, Guiding your head to take him deeper into your mouth. You gagged softly, which caused him to let out a rough growl. "Shit... Eddie please fuck her already. I don't know if I can take this much longer."

Without another word, Eddie slipped himself between your folds, plunging himself into you. You moaned again, and he did too. You whimpered softly at the feeling, but continued to suck on Volt's cock eagerly.

Eddie very quickly established a pace, rocking his hips against yours and grunting as he felt your insides clench around him. You, similarly matched his pace against Volt's cock, feeling the hard tip slam against the back of your throat with each thrust.

With every rough thrust from Eddie, you let out a desperate moan around Volt, who groaned in response. Eddie grunted softly with each movement, his grip on your hips tightening as he slammed himself deeper into you.

"F-fuck live wire....we would have done this sooner if we knew you were gonna be so fuckin good for us." Eddie grunted out, gripping even tighter onto your hips. Volt let out a shaky chuckle in responding, tugging softly at your hair.

"You're doing so so well for us." Volt said, his voice coarse and shaky. You took him even deeper into the back of your throat, gagging slightly around his cock. Eddie groaned, feeling you tighten around him as you gagged.

"Shit... you're gonna make us both cum if you keep that up" Eddie huffed out, his cock twitching slightly as he quickened his pace. You moaned again, unable to respond but feeling your undoing similarly approaching.

Volt's head rolled back again, biting down hard onto his lip. "S-shit I might not be able to go much longer..." He whined out as you continued to take him deep into your mouth, his cock slamming into the back of your throat with each thrust.

Eddie chuckled, pushing himself harder into you, chasing his own release. "Neither will I...and I don't think they're gonna make it much much longer either." He groaned, feeling you twitch around him.

You shuddered slightly, your core tightening more and more with each second. You felt so full, your entire body felt enveloped by pleasure. You could hardly think, your mind almost completely empty.

Volt moaned, tugging on your hair again. "Mhn...how bout we all release at once?" His voice sent shivers through you. "You can be good and cum with us right live wire?"

You tried to respond, although your response came out as another moan as your mouth was still completely full of Volt's now pulsing cock. Eddie grunted again, his fingers almost digging into your hips as he continued to fill you.

"F-fuck...I'm almost there..." Eddie grunted out, his cock twitching inside you, every thrust sending waves of pleasure through you that settled in your core. You felt yourself teetering over the edge, the knot in your stomach unbelievably tight.

Within seconds, you feel the knot inside you snap, accompanied by the two men filling you entirely. Volt pulled himself from your mouth, a trail of salvia and cum still leading from your now swollen lips to his cock. You swallowed eagerly, licking your lips to remove the last remnants of it as your body still shook.

Eddie's cum filled you, his cock twitching violently inside of you before slowly pulling out, leaving you suddenly feeling empty. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you back to rest against his chest and support you as you caught your breath. Volt wrapped his arms around the both of you, resting his head against Eddie's.

"Tired now?" Volt said, his voice strained and exhausted. You looked up, meeting the glazed over expressions of the two of them, no doubt matching your own.

"Completely exhausted." You remark, melting further against the two of them.

- (AN): thanks for reading! I'm working on a sub! Timothy timepiece fic rn, so check back soon if you want that! This is entirely unedited, so pls don't mind any spelling issues, I just wanted to get this out before too long.

#date everything smut #date everything #eddie date everything #eddie x reader #volt date everything #volt x reader #eddie x reader smut #Volt x reader smut #Eddie x reader x Volt #Volt x reader x Eddie #eiffel tower #Character x reader x Character #date everything Eddie #date everything volt #breaker box #date everything x reader

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lexiputellas · 2 days ago

Text

The Real Victory

You’re horny. Like, dangerously horny.

Alexia is on the pitch, locked into the Champions League match against Manchester City. She lost the last game, and you know how badly she wants this one. You should be focused too. Supportive. Cheering.

But you're six months pregnant and your entire body is buzzing.

And all you can think about is her.

Not the game. Not the score.

Just her

The way her thighs flex when she sprints, thick and powerful. The way her brow furrows when she’s concentrating, that sharp little frown. The way her hands settle on her hips when something doesn’t go her way, fuck.That posture alone sends a direct electric shock to your clit, like a livewire.

It’s unbearable.

You can’t hear the crowd. You barely notice the plays. It’s just her, her, her.

“Oh, that ref is shit. He should’ve called that a foul,” Alba mutters beside you, snapping you out of your haze.

“What?” you blink.

“The ref,” she says, nodding at the pitch.

“Oh. Right. Yeah,” you say, pretending to care. She’s already turned back to the game.

But you? You’re dying.

This feeling is consuming you, melting you from the inside out. You feel like you’re going to burst. Your hands are clenched in your lap, trying to behave, but your legs keep pressing together. You're sweating under your dress, soaked through your underwear, every shift in your seat making you want to whimper.

You can't take it anymore.

You grab your phone and open Alexia’s contact, fingers trembling as you type:

— if after 30 minutes of the game you don’t fuck me and give me at least 2 orgasms i will expose you to the internet. i’m not joking. i’m feral.

You hit send.

She won’t read it now, obviously. But when she gets back to the locker room, when she finally checks her phone, you want her to know what she did to you.

You type again:

— i’m a mess. i’m so wet it’s probably running through my dress and dripping onto the fucking seats. this is 100% your fault.

You stare at the screen, your heart pounding harder than the crowd’s chants.

Final whistle.

Barça wins.

The stadium erupts. People are screaming, waving flags. Fireworks. Hugs. Applause.

You don't care.

Finale. They’re going to the goddamn finale.

And all you want is her.

All you want is home

All you want is to be touched.

You turn to Alba. “Let’s go.”

She glances at you, a little surprised. “Already?”

“Help me up.”

She does, and you wobble a bit, pregnant belly leading the way. You make your way to the VIP lounge and ask for a bottle of water. Your heart is racing like you played 90 minutes.

“You having dinner with us?” you ask Alba casually, your brain screaming please say no please say no please say no—

“I don’t think so, actually. I promised Julia I’d have dinner with her tonight. Been a while.”

YES.

“Oh, okay,” you say, masking the desperate joy clawing at your throat. “I just thought—”

“I’m sorry!” she smiles. “We can have dinner later this week.”

You nod, but your mind is elsewhere. All you can think is: Where the fuck is Alexia?

Why is she not here yet? Is she still giving interviews? Talking to people? Laughing with teammates while you’re over here throbbing?

Then, finally, she walks through the doors.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Your entire body clenches. She looks so fucking good. Post-game glow, loose ponytail, jersey stuck to her skin, thighs still tense from running. She’s flushed. Confident. Unreal.

You bite your lip. Hard. Press your thighs together again.

You love her. You hate her. You want to murder her and climb her at the same time.

“Oi, bebé,” she murmurs, kissing your cheek, arms wrapping around you.

You give her a dry peck back, but your eyes are blazing. She hugs Alba next.

“Hey, you coming to dinner?”

“Oh, can’t. Was just waiting for you to show up. I’ve got plans.”

“Okay,” Alexia nods. Alba leaves.

“Dinner out or do you want to order in?” she asks, turning to you with that too-casual tone.

“Order,” you narrow your eyes. She was really about to take you to a restaurant like she didn’t just read those texts? Is she insane?

Then again, she is insane. She's mean. She's hot. She’s yours. So so yours.

“Okay, let’s go,” she says, grabbing your purse and holding out her hand.

You walk with her, past a few teammates. She says her goodbyes. Opens the car door for you. Puts her gear in the trunk. Starts the engine.

She’s humming along to the song on the radio. Calm. Collected.

You look at her. Really look.

What kind of monster leaves their pregnant, needy, drenched wife like this?

The way her fingers grip the wheel. The muscles in her forearms. The little furrow of concentration on her brow.

It’s criminal.

“What?” she says suddenly, catching your stare.

“You’re so mean,” you mutter, crossing your arms.

“What? How am I mean?”

“You read the messages. And you chose to ignore me. You ignored your pregnant, unholy, unsatisfied wife”

“I didn’t ignore you,” she smirks. “I just wanted to see when you’d break.”

“When I’d— WHAT KIND OF MONSTER SAYS THAT? I hate you!” you yell, dramatic and breathless.

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes I do! I hate you so much!”

She looks at you sideways, eyes dark and smug, and then slowly lets one hand slide off the wheel, straight to your thigh.

You gasp.

Her fingers press into your skin, spreading a little warmth, a little promise.

“You don’t hate me,” she says, low and certain.

And god help you, she’s right.

Her hand stays there hot, firm, steady on your thigh. Not moving. Just existing. Like a warning. Like a fucking claim.

And you're trembling.

“You don't hate me,” she says again, softer this time, almost teasing, like she already knows you're seconds from falling apart. “You’re just mad I made you wait.”

You twist toward her in your seat, glaring. “I wasn’t mad. I was dying. There’s a difference. You left me like that for ninety minutes. In public.”

“In a stadium,” she corrects, her thumb now rubbing slow, maddening circles over your skin. “While my team fought for the Champions League.”

“I fought for my life. ”

She laughs, actually laughs, and you nearly claw at her. “You think this is funny?”

“I think it’s adorable.”

“Adorable?” you nearly shriek. “I threatened you. I explicitly said two orgasms and you acted like I said two cappuccinos,”

“I saw that,” she says, grinning wider. “And the one after. The part about your dress. And the seats.”

Your mouth goes dry.

“And?” you snap, voice shaky.

She hums, dragging the tip of her fingernail up and down your thigh now. You shiver. “And I guess we’ll see if you were exaggerating.”

“I wasn’t.”

“I hope not.”

You make a noise that’s somewhere between a groan and a growl. Your hands are fisted in your lap again, trying not to beg her in traffic.

The city blurs outside the window, but all you see is her profile, focused, gorgeous, unfazed. Your whole body is throbbing and she’s just…driving. Calmly. Like you’re not about to crawl into her lap.

You glance down at her hand on your leg. Her thumb is drifting closer to the inside of your thigh now. Dangerous territory. Too close. You spread your legs slightly without thinking.

She doesn’t say anything. Just flicks her eyes toward you with a slow smirk.

You clench your fists tighter.

“You’re a menace,” you mutter.

“You married me.”

“I was tricked.”

She chuckles again, completely in control, and your pulse is in your ears. She's wearing that smug, satisfied post-match look, jersey still sticking to her skin, and all you can think about is how much you need her on you, in you, now now now.

“Alexia,” you whisper, desperate.

She exhales through her nose, leans forward to turn down the music, then returns her hand to your thighs, this time higher, much higher.

“Shhh, bebé. Almost home.”

Your hips twitch toward her.

“No, not shhh. I’m going to die,” you say breathlessly. “You’re going to have to explain to the paramedics that you edged your pregnant wife into a cardiac event.”

She grins. “I’ll just say it was hormones.”

You whimper. Actually whimper.

“You’re evil.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she says, but her voice is lower now, quieter, slipping into that tone you know means trouble.

Then she turns onto your street.

Your breathing stutters.

You’re seconds away from sobbing, from tearing the fabric of your dress apart, from climbing her while the engine’s still on. She parks the car and the moment it clicks into place, you undo your seatbelt and twist to her.

She hasn’t even opened her door yet.

You lean toward her, breath warm, hands shaking.

“I swear to God,” you whisper, “if you make me wait one more second,”

But she’s already moving. Turning to you. Hand slipping behind your neck and pulling you in for a deep, hot kiss. It hits you like fireneedy, claiming, hungry. Her tongue sweeps over yours and her fingers dig into your skin and just like that, you’re gone.

Your moan gets swallowed in her mouth.

She reaches down, pulls the lever, and shoves the driver’s seat all the way back.

Your breath catches.

“Come here,” she says, low.

“What?”

“You heard me. Come here.”

You scramble over the center console, breathless, messy, belly in the way, everything awkward and unhinged. But she helps you, strong arms around you, guiding you to straddle her lap. Her hands slide under your thighs, lifting you so you’re not too heavy, easing you down until you're sitting right against her.

The moment you're seated, your soaked center pressed against the firm muscle of her thigh, your arms around her neck, she kisses you.

Hard.

Messy.

Open-mouthed and fucking relentless.

You moan into her, rocking instinctively, already rolling your hips against her. Her hands slip up under your dress, grabbing the back of your thighs, your ass, your hips, tugging you closer until you're gasping into her mouth.

“Ale, fuck, I’m gonna explode”

She pulls back just enough to look at you, lips wet, eyes glassy.

Her hand slides between your legs. Straight under your underwear.

And when she feels how wet you are?

Her jaw clenches.

“You’re soaked.”

“I told you,” you gasp.

“Sit up,” she orders, and you barely register what she’s doing before she slides her fingers inside: slow, deep, no warning.

Your whole body jerks.

“FUCK”

Her other hand grips your hip, grounding you, holding you in place.

“You gonna ride me like you threatened to?” she breathes into your neck. “Or do I have to make you beg for it?”

You’re already moving. Hips grinding down, your belly tight against her chest, your thighs trembling with the effort.

“God, yes, yes, please, Alexia”

“You’re so desperate,” she whispers. “So messy. You wanted to come in my car so bad? Do it.”

Her fingers are already soaked, dripping, knuckles buried in your cunt as you grind against her like you’ve forgotten how to breathe. She’s letting you do the work, just watching, controlling the rhythm with the slow flex of her hand.

“You’re so fucking perfect like this,” she mutters, voice low, forehead pressed to yours. “Dripping all over me. Can you feel how wet you are?“

Your jaw drops. You moan, raw, desperate and she doesn't give you space to recover.

Her fingers curl inside you, deep and mean, rubbing against that swollen, electric spot that sends sparks flying up your spine. Her palm drags hard over your clit. Again and again and again.

You fall apart.

Your back arches, your belly tight and shaking, and then your cunt clenches down so hard on her fingers it hurts. You don’t just moan, you wail, the sound tearing from your throat like a sob. Your head tips back, body locking, thighs trembling uncontrollably.

She’s right there, whispering filth into your skin.

“That's it. Give it to me, bebé. Let me feel it. Let me feel all of it.”

You try to breathe, but your lungs won’t work. Your whole body is twitching, seized by the orgasm, soaking her wrist, her palm, the fucking seat. You’re gushing, crying, shaking in her lap like your body’s been possessed.

She holds you there through it gripping your ass with one hand, still inside you with the other, riding it out until you're limp and clinging to her.

When you finally collapse forward, she’s panting against your ear, voice rough with praise.

“Good girl,” she whispers. “You came so hard for me. Fuck.”

Your whole body buzzes. You’re not sure if you’re still crying or just breathless, but her jersey is wet with sweat, and your thighs are shaking.

“That’s one,” she says, slowly pulling her fingers out, wet, slick, obscene. She lifts them to her mouth and licks them clean while you just stare, wrecked and speechless.

Then, with a grin that’s all teeth:

“You still owe me another.”

“And I haven’t even ripped your fucking dress yet.”

#barcelona x reader #woso x reader #x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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yunalinwrites · 24 hours ago

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one of my fav kdramas (called youre beautiful) is abt a girl joining a boy band and pretending to be a boy ohshc style except her fellow members dont know and she has to somehow live with them while hiding it 😭 it's so wattpad i love

so imagine being fem!reader sharing a dorm with the saja boys while trying not to get found out

of course u cant hide forever tho so this is how i think you'd get found out and how they'd react:

❓ mystery knew from the start. you didnt realize he was scrutinizing you so closely bc of them fuck ass bangs but from the day you met he could tell just by looking at you. but, much like he does about everything, he kept quiet because he didnt want to freak you out. he found it cute though, every time you'd slip up and get all flustered trying to cover up why you were staring at the dresses at the mall or why you were caught buying pads. so, he'd just smile, pat your head, and calmly help you make excuses. if you walk into the wrong room at the wrong time he'll quietly direct you to a gender neutral bathroom or drape a towel over your eyes whenever the guys got too... carefree in the locker room. lowk helps you hide it from the other members bc he likes it being his little secret

🍼 baby also found out pretty early but also like not really? he walked in on you in the bathroom once and was like "mb" and then he thought about it and was like "wait a sec..." but then he just shrugged it off. and since then for a while in the back of his head he would catch the way you walk or the way you sit or the way your eyelashes look against your cheek and for a split second would think like "is he a chick?" but he never really came to a conclusion bc he just dont gaf. dude or not he treats you pretty much the same. once everyone else starts figuring it out tho thats when he starts acknowledging it. now that everyone else seems to treat you differently as a girl, he starts questioning how to feel or act around you...

💪 abby started rough housing with the other boys and tried to pull you in. lifted you up and not only were you lighter than he expected, your bodies were right up against each other. you did your best to bind your tits down but when you were chest to chest like this it was still noticeable. he awkwardly puts you down and scratches the back of his neck, mumbling an apology. for the next few days his brain is fried thinking about it. he never verbally acknowledges it but he starts being super gentle around you and treating you like you're fragile. feels the need to protect you physically, even if its against the other boys. always keeping watch to make sure they're gentle with you as well.

✨ jinu overhears you out yourself on the phone somehow and is so mad and so flustered at the same time. he's afraid you're going to be a liability if the fans find out and its gonna be a pain to hide but behind all that anger he's just scared of women fr. blushes every time he remembers you're a girl. every time you end up together alone in the living room or catch each other in the hallway, brushing each others shoulders in the slightest, he turns bright red and freaks tf out. somehow though he finds it easier to connect with you emotionally as a girl. with other guys it sometimes feels weird to be vulnerable, but you don't seem to have that shame at all. he admires it. gwi ma probably forced you into this situation so he empathizes with you.

🫶 romance liked to ask you all the time about your love life. asking what your type is, ideal date, dream wedding, do you want kids, etc. you figured it would be safest to just pretend you were a straight dude who liked girls. he wouldnt have cared though. he was starting to feel a little something for you even before you revealed yourself as a girl but refrained from going down that route to stay professional. but when you do reveal yourself as a girl it starts to get even harder to keep that boundary.

🥤 overall once they figure it out none of them tell each other or really say it aloud bc of the implications it has. but they all show it through actions like making sure you're fed and hydrated, letting you use the shower first, asking you if you need a break during rehearsal, etc. but trust, once they all start offering to help you at the same time--like all of them reaching to lend you their marker during fan signings when yours goes dry or surrounding you with 5 different choices of hoodie when you mention you're cold--they start getting real jealous and possessive real soon; they all want to be the one and only you rely on.

eventually though when they all reveal that they all know and everyone's on the same page, they start working together to protect you. all 5 of them wrapped around ur finger 😋 but still fighting for your attention

a/n: ugh i wish i had time/energy to do this properly along w all my other fics for kpdh (this movie has taken over my life) but idk i prob wont LOLL if anyone else wants to build off of this plz go ahead and tag me

#jinu x reader #kpdh #jinu kpdh #jinu #kpop demon hunters #kpdh x reader #saja boys #saja boys x reader #fanfic #kpdh fanfic #kpop demon hunters x reader #kpdh romance #kpdh abby #kpdh mystery #kpdh baby

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kissbabie · 2 days ago

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your bodyguard has to punish you !

being sat in bodyguard!sae's lap while he looked at you blankly, yet with the slightest hint of annoyance and irritation in his eyes was not on your list for tonight. actually, your plan was to sneak out your window after your father denied you of going to a party, but sae had unfortunately caught you. you mentally cursed the man for being so smart, and knowing exactly what you were planning to do after you so innocently asked him to leave your room so you could change.

"your father already said no, and you do this?" sae said, raising one eyebrow at you. he was lightly caressing your waist with one hand, then slowly tracing over your thigh as you pouted, then using his other hand to give you a light smack on your ass. "you really don't get it, do you?"

"'m sorry, sae, won't happen again." you blinked at him, wiggling yourself in his lap as you whined like a spoiled brat. he exhaled hard through his nose and titled his head back, like he was deciding what he should do with you. he leans in, lips brushing your ear as he uses one hand to hold the back of your neck and pull you into him, whispering into your ear, "be a good girl and ride me, okay? and i won't tell your father what you tried to do."

at the mere mention of that, you were scrambling to take off your skirt, fumbling with the zipper of his pants. pushing your own panties aside, it was almost embarrassing to see how wet you had already gotten, your pussy leaking and your panties glistening, but you managed to push yourself down his cock. the stretch was incredible — your mouth parted as you let out a whine, feeling your walls clamp down on him. straddling him, you wrap your arms around his neck, giving a few light bounces on it.

but after a while, despite how hard you were trying, you were getting tired, your thighs became sore, and sae wasn't even helping. he looked almost bored, letting out a few groans here and there, but you desperately needed for him to just grab your waist and slam you up and down on his cock.

“go faster,” sae mutters, voice flat, almost bored. “i c-can’t,” you whimpered, hips stuttering. “sae, ‘m tired, my legs—“

a little slap landed on your ass. not too hard, just enough to make your breath hitch. his fingers spread warm against your skin afterward, palm rubbing the area there. “c’mon, i know you can do it.” he says, eyes narrowing as he stares at you.

so, with what little dignity you had left, you let out a whine and started moving yourself again. it was terrible, you were riding him so messily, your thighs shaking as you let out frustrated whimpers, trying to chase your release. but, sae, of course, still had a small punishment up his sleeve for you.

"don't cum." he warned, but his voice was a bit shaky as he closed his eyes, his hands finally resting on your waist as it sounded like he, himself, was close to cumming. you sobbed, pathetically trying to ask him for permission to cum, but all he gave you was a single look and you knew you should just save your breath. you collapsed onto his chest, mewling into his shoulder as he exhaled slowly, his hand sliding up your back to keep you steady. what you didn't expect, however, was him to thrust up into you — one that made you cum, right then and there.

the feeling was incredible, feeling your pleasure finally crash over you after what you had to endure. but, after coming down from your high, it was way too quiet, and you just realized what you had done. you squirmed in his lap, before sae sighed and pulled you off. he easily grabbed you and placed you carefully on your back onto your bed, crawling over you. he fondly caressed your cheek, swiping his thumb under your eye slowly.

"didn't i tell you not to cum, hm?" he says. he leaned down to you, his breath dangerously close to yours. "guess i'll have to teach you some manners then, you brat."

for this req

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your-bait-and-swich · 3 days ago

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Random Date Everything characters NSFW headcanons

Characters featured: Hector, Parker, Lux, Dunk

Ageless/minors DNI

Hector

His favorite part of sex is not actually the sex itself it's the foreplay before anything.

He loves to tease your body by gently moving his hands around your body, and soft kissing anywhere he can like it's some sort of worship. He tries his best to make you squirm and relishes it

This might be a surprise, but most times he doesn't like being a bottom yet he doesn't like to be a dominant top either. He's definitely a soft top wanting you taking the lead, and tell him how to please you

That's not to say that he minds being a bottom but he prefers to help you

Definitely not avoid to be kinky specially if his God wants it. He loves doing anything and everything he can to please you

Except for pain and degrading. He would never even let himself insult you let alone hurt you. the most he'll do is biting and very light choking. Phantom choking basically.

He's actually very silent during sex, and masturbating. The vents aren't really that private you know

Most you'll hear in sex is small panting, and whines but he'll give you more noise if you request

Probably goes without saying, but he loves when you're somewhat demanding. Don't be too cruel about it, but he does love someone that knows what they want

He also wants to know he's doing well. Please praise him for anything he does right for communication sake, and his praise kink

He love's adding temperature play anyway he can to your love making

If you were cold/hot he would make purposeful effort to make his body the opposite so when he touches you, you would feel all the more

Subtly raise the heat slowly forcing you to strip more and more

Occasionally when you're in the middle of sex he'll use the grate on his outfit to blow one thing of cold air to shock you

Aftercare is a must every time. He does not let himself rest until you are clean and taking care of

Lux

(Not sure where to put this but I did give them a dick despite them not having a confirmed sex I think so keep that in mind I guess. I'll keep from doing this in the future tho)

I hate them *proceeds to make these anyway*

When they said you guys only have sex when they wants to upload something on Fans Only they means it. It's hard to convince them when they're not in the mood especially so when they're in the middle of a stream

But if you convince them mostly by sucking up to then they'll end a stream like "I guess that's it for today's stream luxxies! Make sure to check Fans Only soon byeee!~"

Recordings, live and photos are a given.

And if you're lucky enough even outside of Fans Only "Don't count on it"

They're most definitely a grower. A absurdly nice grower bigger than you'd expect. Along with that they're very smooth not having any body hair.

They moans like a pornstar. It's unclear if it's for the recording or they're just like that

Very into exhibition. They don't mind anyone watching honestly they're into it frankly. If they're in the mood it's happening no matter what

Also slightly masochist very into hair pulling and one or two nice slap on the ass

Obviously mostly a bottom, but if they feeling particularly devilish they'll top

When they top they do it to prove a point/a punishment

Favorite "punishment" is you choking on their dick for sure

They love too cum on your face then lay their dick on your tongue. It just makes you so pretty for their Fans Only

They'll say stuff like "good girl/boy/slut" in a condescending way to you after taking these punishments

You will at least have to have a threesome once with some other person Lux choose

Parker Brandley

Good fucking luck buddy

First you got to win that love dice roll and now you need to somehow make board games sex related or it's not happening

Lucky for you strip poker does technically count. Maybe not a board game but it has clear rules and if Uno counts this can count to. He will not let you get away with using this all the time tho

Despite how stingy he can be with it he's very easy to work up. Just a little too much skin and/or touching a certain way can give him a boner instantly

He's quite nervous. Being awkward, and fidget quite a bit for your first time, but he quickly gets into the groove after a bit

When you finally get to the stage of actually doing something he's a feral animal with it

Massive switch! He doesn't really care what way it goes

Bottoming he's very noisy, and reacts very intensely. Unless you gag him the whole house is going to hear his semi screaming

Topping intense, and quick. Boy does not waste a second he acts like it's the end of the world as a plows into you speeding up.

Still a delightful mix of serious and a bit goofy during sex "Ohohoh~! Holy fucking shit!"

When he's more comfortable he'll probably confront you directly for his wants. "Whoever wins tops" he says putting a board game in front of you abruptly.

If you do cheat he will deny having sex outright tho

Nothing sexy like orgasm denial just straight up denying sex maybe for multiple days depending how pissed he is. You only get orgasm denial privileges when you play rightfully and you try to distract him in the game because it's only fair then

He's secretly not really so secretly a pervert his eyes widening cartoonously if you wear a skimpy outfit. Looking over your body secretly whenever he can (it's very obvious)

I feel in my heart of hearts that he is a thighs guy and he wants to be crushed by your thighs so badly

Dunk Shuttlecock

Let's just say it up front and right here you have to tell him if you want sex. He will not and won't catch on to hints or innuendos

His mentality on sports is similar to the mentality he has with sex. He just wants it to be enjoyable doesn't matter how fast, slow, intense, goofy, as long as your both having a great time

Tho if you ask him to give you it to you rough oh he sure will but the chance of you accidentally getting a bruise from it and him apologizing after is higher then maybe preferable(depending who you are) but it's a small risk for a unbelievably great time

However regularly he still has pretty good pace at least enough to make you a little weak after

His stamina is crazy willing to do like 3 to 4 rounds if you're up to it of course. He'll makes sure not to exhaust you too much taking decent breaks in between rounds to get yourself prepared

He's doesn't take sex not all too seriously grinning like a goof, and sometimes giggling

If you're the ticklish type he would definitely tickle you randomly during sex just to hear your laugh

He would be so into funny role play sex. Porno quality stuff as you both try to keep a straight face

Think of stuff you typical would expect like jock and cheerleader, jock and nerd, ect ect. Maybe even a pizza delivery thing too

He's not against a little exhibition. Sometimes grabbing you by the wrist to go somewhere more quiet

Something something shake weight joke

Eats pussy like a champ I know he does. That's not to say he's not good with a dick too [insert shuttlecock joke]

Naked yoga into sex. That's it

Quite a big fan of cockwarming while cuddling in between rounds or after sex

He's naturally a top and prefers being top too but if you ask him cute/sexually enough he'll gladly take the back seat

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lvl109 · 2 days ago

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to: captain save a hoe calebbbbb ): the aircon is broken againnnn ): requesting immediate assistance before gf melts into a puddle of sweat and tears

you'd sent those messages ten minutes ago. caleb shows up at your apartment door with a tool kit and ice cold gelato within the next thirty.

you hum happily as you bite into a spoonful of strawberry gelato as he works on the stupid machine, humming faintly to himself as your attention splits between him and the movie that had been idling on your screen a few feet away. but the screen becomes far less interesting very quickly over watching your boyfriend tinker away with laser focused precision, soon ignoring the movie entirely to watch him.

sweat beads on his arms and forehead as he works, pausing momentarily to wipe it away. your arm moves mindlessly from cup to your mouth, but the taste of strawberry goes unnoticed. you blink and his shirt is discarded somewhere on the floor. you don't bother to look for where it landed.

were the curtains drawn open when he came in? you don't even remember. but the sun decides to favor him despite it being the reason why it was one of the hottest days of the year. turns out even the sun can't help but shine over your knight in... less than armor coming to your rescue against heatstroke.

with a proud exhale, caleb soon stands back with his hands on his hips as the air conditioner finally rattles back to life, immediately pushing cold air into the living room. he turns around with a wide grin to find you already looking at him and offers a thumbs up. "your refrigerant was damaged and blowing hot air into the room, but it should be good now!"

you blink once, then nod. whatever a refrigerant was. "oh, really? i didn't know that. thanks."

"i'm glad you texted, y'know. i'd hate to have come home later and found out you were suffering in the heat like that." caleb moves to pick up his shirt, drawing your eyes like a magnet to his arms. "i'll look into getting you a new one installed instead of having to rely on this old thing. sound good?"

your gelato is melting with negligence. somehow you can't find it within yourself to care that much. "sure. thanks, again."

his head tilts a bit at your less than enthusiastic answers, a frown settling on his lips much to your surprise. "you're sure you're okay? the heat hasn't gotten you that bad, right?"

before you can even answer, he crowds into your space and places a hand to your forehead. your heart rate spikes immediately in response and you nearly crush the poor cup of gelato-turned-juice in your hand. his brows furrow slightly, now moving to cup your face.

"hey, are you okay? your face is really hot. why didn't you contact me sooner? and your gelato is already melted—you were burning up in here!"

you don't have the heart to tell him he's the reason behind your sudden rise in temperature, only offering a weak smile to his fussing and succumbing yourself to his fretting. his very shirtless fretting. arms. muscles. what was he even talking about?

"you're going to be alright, okay?" a cool towel is placed on your forehead after he lays you down on the couch, the cold sensation making you sigh a bit in relief. the tension in caleb's face eases a bit as he gently strokes your face. "yeah? that feel good?"

his smile is so soft when you voice your affirmative, patting your arm in consolation. "don't move. i'll get you more gelato."

maybe a thanks to said stupid machine was due.

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miredfate · 8 hours ago

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time to be really sarcastic and annoying because i'm bored and irritated and have nothing better to do (i'm answering all 60 with very little seriousness. yes, 60, it skips 10 of the questions)

complicated

my girlfriend

the fuck kind of question is this, who DOESN'T

similar thing as above

i call penny my girlfriend mostly out of the convenience of using the label i don't understand romance

chocolate milk

i did gym in highschool because i had to

only when they get long

never

it's clear this is meant to be a romantic phrase but considering i don't really do romance i don't know what to do other than take it very literally.. .Yes i like human beings around me actually

never really kept track of that tbh, idk

i'd say "who doesn't" but i've met people who are unable to hate

who doesn't miss someone

six cats

dissociated and blunt and spiteful. hence, answering ALL of these because i'm bored and because i can

i don't understand the significance of this happening in the bathroom it's just another room

yes, not by choice, they're cute

no because i know better than to think i wouldn't just endlessly fuck up whatever plan i have in mind

*googling "snogged" * ... idk i don't keep track

go to store, buy stuff to make my room more comfy :3

subjects? what? i'll assume school subjects? i can do well in any subject technically but i'm at the whim of my long-term mental health. i guess...,,, math and science?

this question already got asked (14)

jersey mikes steak and cheese sub sandwich ,,,

this is a romance question, isn't it? uhg

the concept of cheating shouldn't exist. it's based on monogamous bullshit, we live in a patriarchy

i don't know?? i don't keep track of this kind of thing?? i've made somebody cry i'm sure

these fucking questions

i'm sure

i don't see value in a single color without context

yes

school. it's been three weeks since i've gone to school. idk why i keep dreaming about it

i don't know i don't keep track

absolutely fucking not

i still find myself surprised that people are capable of doing either of those

i'll have to wait another couple decades to answer this one

STOP THIS SHIT AT ONCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

51. huh it skips from 40 to 51- anyways can't pick favorites here 52. listen i'm the wrong person to even let think about this kinda thing 53. JAKED OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 54. see (28) 55. sometimes, right now yes maybe 56. none 57. STOP THIS SHIT AT ONCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 58. can't pick favorites here either. variety is good 59. mhm 60. idk 61. boy/girl? where the fuck were these questions sourced from? Neurotypical Bob? Cishet Joe? i'd do the comical amount of exclamation points again but this doesn't deserve that much attention from me 62. Hello Neurotypical Bob 63. Hello Cishet Joe 64. STOP THIS SHIT AT ONCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 65. STOP THIS SHIT AT ONCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

66. STOP THIS SHIT AT ONCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

67. STOP THIS SHIT AT ONCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

68. not worth my energy 69. "Stop this shit at once" with more exclamation points than you can understand 70. in theory yes in practice no my brain wouldn't let me

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

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moonstruckme · 2 days ago

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First time request! I'd love a poly Jily fic based on the prompt "blood swirling down a shower drain." Maybe the reader just got back from a mission that went wrong and is kinda out of it, trying to wash everything off. James and Lily find them and refuse to let them deal with it alone, just soft, quiet comfort, lots of gentle touches, and reassuring words.🥹 Thanks!!

Thank you for requesting! This turned out so much angstier than I intended. I really don't know what happened but...I'm sorry? Or for the people who are always asking for angst I don't deliver, you're welcome I think? I don't know it just happened I wasn't on the decision-making panel

cw: blood (lots of blood), reader is a bit in shock, nonsexual nudity, death (of a minor canon character, not someone we really know and love), set in canon so there's death eaters/the order/etc., quite angsty (for me at least) but there is comfort I promise

poly!Jily x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

James and Lily are cuddling when you come home. Well, they’re sort of just holding each other and trying to pass it off as cuddling. Any one of you going out on an assignment for the Order always makes nervous wrecks of the two left behind, but Lily and James doing their best to distract themselves, a film on the television and each trying not to look like they’re glancing out the window every minute.

The crack of apparition outside puts an abrupt end to the facade.

They’re both up in an instant, but Lily puts a hand to James’ chest when he goes for the door. “Wait,” she says. She leaves a spot of blood on his shirt from where she’s picked the skin by her nail down to nothing.

James’ heart revolts, but he listens. They both listen, until they hear the two-three-two knock that means it’s you.

Lily manages to move faster than him. She has both the muggle and magical locking mechanisms undone in an instant, opening the door to you.

To you, absolutely drenched in red.

It’s in your hair; it stains your clothes; it cakes your face and your neck and your hands. There’s hardly an inch of you left clean. James can’t comprehend it. Was there…was there an explosion of some sort? Did you get splattered by something? He feels sick.

“Is that blood?” Lily’s voice is admirably steady.

You nod. “Yeah.”

James really feels sick.

“Are you hurt?” She reaches for you, bringing you inside. You move like your body weighs a thousand pounds.

“No, I’m—it’s old. I’m fine. Remus fixed it.”

“Good old Moony,” James croaks. It’s meant to be a joke, but truly, he’d love to fly to Remus and Sirius’ flat right now to give his friend the hug of his life. If only there weren’t things for James to take care of here first.

“What happened, sweetheart?” Lily asks, running a gentle hand up your arm. Blood flakes under her touch.

“They were waiting for us.” Your voice is low, like it’s the sort of truth that becomes worse once said aloud. Your eyes look bigger and brighter in the midst of all the mess. James wants desperately to hug you, and yet—shamefully—he’s afraid of touching you; like despite what you say, he might find you less whole than you were when you left a few hours ago. “It was just supposed to be Dolohov there, but there were a lot of them. They knew we were coming.”

“They did this to you?”

“It…I…” Your gaze moves from Lily, to James, back to Lily again. You look exhausted, haunted, but worried beneath that. A moment later, James understands why. “It was Severus.”

Lily reacts as though you’ve hit her. Her expression looks like a heart cracked open, but she doesn’t let go of your arm.

“He used this spell,” you tell her, seeming sorry to do it, “that opens cuts all over the other person’s body. Remus was able to figure a counter-curse before I bled out. I don’t think Severus was aiming for me…”

Even looking at your face, James is unsure of whether you mean that. The odds that Snape would try to hurt you seem equally as likely to him as those that he wouldn’t. You may only be trying to protect Lily. She looks so devastated, James wants to wrap you both up and never let you go again.

Something Lily and James have always had in common is how they love. They may not always show it in the same ways, but once they’ve chosen someone, that’s it; they’ll live and die for them. They give away their whole hearts. James has just been luckier in who he’s chosen to give his to. His first love—outside of his family, of course—was Sirius. Lily’s was Snape.

But, as much as James loves Lily, if Snape showed up on your doorstep right now James thinks he would kill him.

“I’m sorry,” Lily says to you, her eyes shining.

“It’s okay.” You extricate yourself gently from her grasp. “I’m going to shower.”

“Sweetheart…” James reaches for you, but you ghost past his hands, only mumbling again, “It’s okay.”

Nothing’s okay. Lily’s looking after you like her heart’s been cracked open. From the sound of it, you actually were cracked open for a while. There’s a fracture between the three of you that James doesn’t know how to fix. But certainly he’s going to try.

“Come on.” He takes Lily’s hand, encouraging her down the hall with him. When she comes, he wraps an arm around her shoulders to kiss her hair. “It’s alright. Come on, lovely.”

The shower is already running when they open the bathroom door. James shuts it behind them before starting to strip, and Lily’s questioning look only lasts a moment before she’s doing the same. He sets his glasses on the counter.

“Hi,” he says, pulling the shower curtain open enough to pop his head in. You look surprised, which is a surprise in itself; you must really be lost in your own head not to have heard them enter. “Room for two more in here?”

There is, of course, room—as if James would ever let you get a place without a shower big enough for three—but still he’s relieved when you nod. He steps the rest of the way in, making room for Lily to squeeze in behind him. You seem to have scrubbed your face clean and now are letting the water do the work on the rest of you. Blood swirls down the shower drain.

James steps closer, giving you long seconds to back away, to let your face reveal hesitation or denial, before he kisses you. Slowly. Warmly. You soften like butter in the sun, arms coming around him as his do you.

“Didn’t get to do that properly when you got home,” James murmurs after your lips part.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

He fights to keep his lips from twitching at the now-familiar dazed quality to your tone. It is taking every ounce of his concentration to not think too hard about the two stunning women he’s sharing a shower with right now.

Since Lily is no longer up to being the asker of questions, James gives it a whirl. “Do you want to tell us any more about what happened tonight?”

Your eyes go weary and somber. He sees your throat bob as if around something painful. “We, um. We lost Edgar.”

Lily makes a wounded sound. “Bones?”

James has already drawn you into a hug. You nod against his chest, choking out a weak, “Yeah.”

“Was it…”

“It was Lestrange,” you answer before Lily has to finish asking. Not Snape. She breathes out.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, joining your hug. Water runs in rivulets down the three of you, transferring from one body to the other, off James’ nose and Lily’s hair and your chin, pooling in all the places you’re pressed together. James fights an ache in his own throat. You’d all known Edgar, but only you watched him die. This is a grief he and Lily can only share in parts of.

There’s lots more kisses and murmuring before you get to the business of washing. James runs you over with a soapy cloth while Lily shampoos your hair, the both of them making sure no inch of you goes unseen to. Remus has done a good job; there are no scars where Snape’s curse tore you open. As the blood clears away, James can’t tell where it originated from at all.

He tells you how happy they are to have you home. You smile at his exaggerated jokes about separation anxiety and squeeze his hand when he presses a thumb into the corner of it, chuffed with himself. Lily apologizes again for Snape, and you both promise her she’s not responsible for him until it seems almost like she believes it. James is kicked out of the shower in disgrace after mistaking your body wash for conditioner. He warms towels in the dryer while Lily works the tangles out of your hair with her fingers.

When you go to bed, you’re still as exhausted as you were when you came home. You move like your body weighs a thousand pounds, and there’s a haunted look about your eyes, and you don’t seem up to saying much. But you curl up with James’ chest to your back and Lily’s leg draped across your own, and you’re loved, and that counts for something.

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oneatlatime · 2 years ago

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Zuko Alone

I'm hoping for some Appa this episode. It's been too long since he's gotten any good sight gags.

Zuko is cosplaying Clint Eastwood. He's also back to being stupid pale this episode.

You know it's a good thing that Zuko's not in the Fire Nation anymore because he really would have sucked at being Fire Nation. Robbing pregnant women is probably kindergarden level stuff for them.

How is Zuko in such bad shape? Last time we saw him he had a cave full of spoils robbed from rich people. Did he not bother to pack at least some of that stuff? Actually, not thinking far enough ahead to pack would be pretty in character.

Oof that would rub me the wrong way. Not enough money for a meal, but sure, let's use totally edible eggs as ammo.

Where'd the egg go?

Who is the scarred up hat wearing vampire and what happened to the real Zuko? Imposter Zuko just elected to not be provoked into a fight. Real Zuko would already be setting things on fire.

Just a bunch of thugs. Yep. It's consistently awesome how many of the facets of war this show can cover.

Imposter Zuko and Song's horse bird just got kidnapped. Did not see that coming.

Zuko kind of has arm bandages like Sokka has this episode. Also love the character detail that the boy has scraped knees.

Is the kid's dad the same guy as the man at the store? Or maybe this is a one haircut town?

So the guy who was near to fainting off his horse bird this morning is now turning down freely offered food? Could Zuko please shelve his pride for five minutes? Kudos to the mom for accurately reading his distaste for charity and turning it into a request for aid though. Although covering for the boy's egg trick is worth at least a meal.

Tangent!

I don't get Zuko. How can he still have so much pride when he's wearing rags and starving himself to feed Song's horse bird? I'm quite shameless when it comes to accepting help and I've never, ever been able to understand the whole 'too proud to accept charity' mindset. I'm always up for some charity. I have enough manners to offer to do the dishes after, but if you're offering free food I'm eating it. And I've never been in a situation as desperate as Zuko's. So I don't get this.

ok tangent over.

Peak rich kid behaviour. I hope those nails aren't expensive otherwise Zuko doing work for food might end up with this family out of pocket.

Is the wood grain on this ladder an actual photograph of wood grain?

Zuko has more patience this episode than he had for all of season 1 combined. He's also never gone this long without yelling. Either proximity to young children activates Zuko's otherwise mostly slumbering decency, or to fit him into a Fistful of Dollars homage the writers had to make him out of character.

If I had been in this situation when I was a kid, if I had been a) this visibly bored, and b) this nosy around guests, I would have been given a hammer and a bag of nails in three seconds flat. Also, nice to see a Sokka face from Zuko.

I get that 'a man without a past' is a staple of the cowboy genre, but the boy's father bringing up the privacy of the past twice in like two minutes makes me think he's done stuff he doesn't want to talk about. Seems both the parents have read Zuko right though.

Finally! Some pretty! I have been suffering! This may be the first really good pretty all season!

Bad news for the Appa decor on my blog. He may have been supplanted in my affections.

Two things: first, Zuko is a carbon copy of his mom. Second, That is way too much forehead.

Having Zuko's mom introduce herself by talking about the lengths mothers will go to for their children is not giving me foreshadowing anxiety at all.

Azula's been a bitch since birth. Noted.

Sir, your eyebrows. Also, yeah, I wouldn't want to play with her either.

Yikes this is making my teeth itch and my skin crawl. Calling it now, she's rotten to the core.

Zuko and Azula's dad has some weak ass genes. BOTH of his children are carbon copies of their mom.

Also, I was not expecting Zuko's very stupid ponytail to be a pre-scar thing. It is much better with a full head of hair.

If I had spent my childhood hanging out with an untouchable princess who set things on my head on fire for fun whenever I involuntarily displayed emotion, I'd be gloomy and apathetic in self defense too.

Sokka in this episode in spirit, if not in person.

Seriously that's the same face three times over!

Um, no? If Iroh doesn't make it back from the front, doesn't his son become next in line to be Firelord?

Can you hear all the unspoken "father thinks that" and "father says that" in front of every one of Azula's opinions in this whole scene? I stand by my assertion that she's awful anyways, but she's also obviously drunk much too much of her dad's koolaid, if you know what I mean.

This kid is going to get into so much trouble one of these days. Provoking the soldiers, nagging the mysterious stranger with the mysterious past, and now taking his weapons? Kid's sweet but he really needs to learn when to stop pushing his luck.

Stabbing dead, dried wood sounds like a great way to utterly annihilate the edge on those. Hope Zuko packed a whetstone.

Where is this patience coming from? I don't understand and it's BUGGING me.

Hold on. Technical problems.

My very basic DVD player sometimes has difficulty with these disks. Whatever happened between the above two screenshots, I've missed it. So picking back up from the one on the right...

Either these soldiers are impressively cowardly (which, yeah) or Zuko's really been working on his death glare, because they've got him outnumbered and out-armoured and they still back off.

OH it's parallels! Zuko's cousin and the boy's older brother. Got it. Kind of a false parallel though. Grandson of the Firelord does not equal earth kingdom conscript.

Give the demonstrably impulsive and nosy child a knife. That'll work out just fine I'm sure. Pretty sad the kid glommed on to Zuko so quickly, but it's also yet another realistic representation of the consequences of war. This show's good.

*shudders* theatre kids.

She's tiny! Do you know how darkly humourous it is to watch a two foot tall baby spout her father's murderous nonsense? Once again, in this whole scene, not a word out of Azula's mouth is actually Azula's.

"What is wrong with that child?" Apart from budding homicidal and psychopathic tendencies? Her dad. Her dad is what's wrong with that child.

Their dad has no subtlety at all. And also no brain? You think a day after the firelord finds out one of his family died is the right time to very boorishly make a play for the crown with you daughter as a prop? Could you possibly come up with a better demonstration of why this guy shouldn't be in charge?

How did this asshole land such a nice wife?

Yep. Siding with the old firelord on this one.

Does flashback Zuko sleep in his day clothes? Because that's not ok.

I like that their mom sees straight through Azula's lying here. She knows her daughter.

In a move that should surprise no one, everything Zuko touches turns to shit, as usual.

It's the Mexico filter!

Absolute truth from Zuko in that monologue. He's got them pegged. Too bad it fell on deaf ears. It's Zuko's curse, that whenever he approaches being remotely reasonable, he happens to be surrounded by people who will react in such a way that Zuko learns to equate being reasonable with failure.

An earthbender. The bare feet should have clued me in.

Last season Zuko and Iroh laid waste to like ten of these guys. And Iroh didn't even have pants. So what gives? Is he that starved?

Ursa pulling a Mufasa.

Don't answer don't answer don't answer

And he does.

Zuko is so very good at completely misinterpreting the point.

So we can add thief to the list of things that make Azula awful. Also that delivery of "who's going to make me? Mom?" is chilling. Zuko's lost his only defender inside this atrocious family and she knows it, he knows it, hell the turtleducks probably know it.

His dying wish? You guys buying that?

Ozai. That's his name. I'd forgotten that.

So... something something dead firelord something something missing mom something something maybe Azula wasn't actually lying this time?

Final Thoughts

The title wasn't kidding. Let's rename the show 'Avatar: the Guy who's Really Bad at Capturing Him' while we're at it.

There is now no way whatsoever that Zuko is not going to be redeemed. No writing team would invest that much energy and a whole episode into a character we're not ultimately supposed to root for. So somehow he's going to end up joining the Gaang. Don't know how he'll pull that one off. He's done some pretty not great stuff. And it's not like the Gaang watched this episode and unlocked his tragic backstory.

Speaking of, what prompted these reflections? I could understand if Zuko started to contemplate his cousin and the events surrounding his loss in the war after he learned about the family's older brother, but he was having flashbacks before he even got to town. Usually when there are backstory bits, there's a good reason to show them at that time, like how the Storm prompts Aang to think about the last storm he was in, or seeing a boat from his father's fleet prompts Sokka to remember what his dad told him. So what caused Zuko's memories to give him situationally appropriate flashbacks?

Pretty funny that he found the Nice Earth Kingdom Family that Azula predicted for him. And they are really nice! Either Zuko is an open book or the parents' social intelligence is off the charts because they're giving him exactly what he needs to feel at ease after barely a single conversation.

Speaking of Azula, I'm not surprised to find that she's always had deeply awful tendencies, even as a child of (I'm guessing) less than ten. But it cannot be ignored that, from the moment her father took a liking to her (as a tool to boost his own greatness, if not as a person), she didn't stand a chance. You can tell by the number of times that the stuff coming out of her mouth is a thinly veiled repetition of her father's unfiltered opinions, that she's been spending lots of time listening to him, probably while he puts down her mom and brother and talks about how she's the special one. You know what I'm getting at. Azula never stood a chance once her father got involved, and her mom lost the ability to influence her once her father started giving Azula praise for objectively wrong behaviour. That being said, Azula is awful even when she doesn't need to be awful for her father's approval, like when she's with her friends, so it's not all her father's doing. She's not a good person but she also had plenty of help to become that.

I guess Zuko and his mom are Fire Nation anomalies? And maybe Iroh has become that since his son died and he lost the war?

How on earth did Zuko survive as long as he did in the palace without his mom to protect him? What a no-win situation to be in. The only person in a whole nation with empathy.

This episode does makes Season 1 Zuko make more sense. He's been larping his dad as a defense mechanism for surviving the Fire Nation/probably a very futile effort to earn his approval. Although Zuko doesn't seem to care much for his dad if the tone he takes with him by the turtleduck pond is any indication.

Being banished was the best thing that ever happened to Zuko. The more distance between him and his remaining non-uncle family, the better. Between prioritizing his crew over capturing the avatar in the Storm, releasing the Avatar in the Blue Spirit, and now defending a random earth kingdom child this episode, it's hilarious how much Zuko HASN'T learned the lesson that Ozai banished him for not knowing. Don't get me wrong; that's a good thing. This episode plainly shows that behaviour that pleases Ozai is behaviour that should be unlearned as quickly as possible.

Zuko completely missing the point of his mom's last instruction is delightfully on the nose. But it also makes sense, which I may talk more about later.

How did Zuko hold on to his temper (and his volume) for a whole episode?

How did a show named after the main character get away with an episode that doesn't feature him at all? As a concept, this is such a strange episode. The writers were like "how can we kick start the woobification of Zuko? I know! A Spaghetti Western!" and it worked. Who comes up with that?

I now want at least as much, if not more, of Sokka and Katara's childhood via flashbacks. And more Gyatso please. If they can devote a whole episode to the childhood of a guy who isn't even a team member yet, they can show me some Sokka childhood shenanigans as a palette cleanser.

I really don't know what conclusion to draw about this episode. The writers have given me a massive backstory/trauma dump and I'm honestly like:

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #zuko alone #I really don't know what to make of this one

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