#and them choosing to be together in they think are their dying moments over and over again because 'i don't want to lose him/her again'

[mochalate]

[1] new notification!

msby!atsumu x reader || w/c: 1.9k ft. questionable methods of contacting the paparazzi. [<- read intro][ch 2->]

Atsumu’s last elementary school report card— faithfully stored by his mother in a sturdy carton in her closet, along with her other important documents— has near perfect grades, and only one comment from his teacher. 

Atsumu chooses to deal with matters, both academic and personal, in an independent and determined manner.

By the time middle school was over, Atsumu hadn’t changed; but the comment sure had.

Atsumu prefers not to ask for assistance even if he is having trouble with his work. I would like to see him asking for help or clarification when required.

Then in highschool, he’d learned how to bite back his pride enough to earn an approving ‘Atsumu is an active participant in his learning’ by the end of his third year.

And now look at him, asking strangers online for help without a second thought. Old Mrs. Yamada from Yako Middle School would be so proud. 

Atsumu wonders how she’s doing. He idly types her name into the search bar, and immediately finds an obituary. 

He blinks at the pixelated picture of her sweet, smiling, deceased face; and tries to decide if he should take this as a portent regarding the consequences of asking for help, or as a reminder of the relentless march of time.

Time, which you and Osamu were spending together at this very moment.

Atsumu has to resist the urge to bang his head against one of the lockers. 

 He tries his best not to think about it; but it’s early afternoon, he’s done with practice, the last one in the locker room, and unfortunately, has far too much time to not only think about it, but vividly picture it too. It’s like a goddamn movie in his mind, complete with subtitles. 

(They’re hard coded in; because of course, he’s third wheeling so hard in this scenario, he had to resort to watching said movie on the shadiest of websites, battling the pop up ads telling him about the hot singles in his area— just to rub salt in the wound.)

It went like this: you and Osamu are baking a cake together. You tell Osamu he’s got flour on his face, giggling for some reason, and he asks where. So you point to your nose, and he smears some on your face with a grin. Barf. 

Oh Osamu, you’re so much more fun than Atsumu, you say, all doe-eyed. Your subtitles are pink. The sweetest thing I’m allowed to make him is sugarless raisin bran cookies.

Yer damn right about that, Osamu replies (looking right at the camera, deadpan), Let’s get married just so we can not invite him to the wedding.

Okay, maybe Osamu wouldn’t go that far. 

And maybe it wasn’t fair to hold the raisin bran cookies against you like that. He really did think they were chocolate chip; but in hindsight, it wouldn’t make much sense for his nutritionist to be giving those to him when he was supposed to be on a high-protein diet.

(Sue him, he thought you had enough of a soft spot for him to sneak him a treat.)

Atsumu sighs, and unlocks his phone again to pull up the post from last night. There are a few more replies— some calling it a fake story, a few asking for an update, and one person inexplicably telling him to go no contact with his brother. 

Ridiculous. The whole idea was ridiculous; and surely msbygirlie (bless her) would eventually see through his half-assed attempt at disguising who he was.

His index finger hovers over the delete button. 

And then his eyes land on that reply he’s been thinking about since last night. 

well you don't have to talk to either of them... you said someone took the original photo. maybe they're still stalking?? ask them what they think?

It was insane. He’d be adding fuel to a fire that was dying down. It would drive the publicist crazy. 

He wants to do it.

(Fuck, he’s going to do it.)

Atsumu Miya’s Guide to Finding and Trapping Your Local Paparazzi

Set a live trap in the location you expect your target to be.

“Shoyo,” Atsumu calls out, as he spots his wing spiker near the gymnasium exit, “ya free right now?” 

Hinata comes to a halt with a little hop, somehow still full of energy despite the full training session. “More or less. Why?” 

Why? Because Sakusa would scoff and walk away, stopping only to report his plan to Meian; and because Bokuto would accidentally blab and give him up, probably during a livestream. (She reprimanded them a lot, but really, it was him and Bokuto keeping the publicist employed.)

“I need yer help catching a pest. Want to take a walk with me?”

2. Bait the trap.

Atsumu stops abruptly at the crossroads. He snaps his head toward the convex mirror on the corner just in time to see a nondescript man, with a baseball cap pulled low over his face, ducking into the small general store just behind them. It’s quick— the doors are already propped open since it’s not quite warm enough to justify running the air conditioning.

Perfect.

Hinata nudges his elbow. “Why did we stop? Do you want something to drink?”

Atsumu takes a deep breath. “Do ya trust me, Shoyo?”

He looks perplexed at the question. It’s not an expression that’s often on Hinata’s face, so Atsumu takes a moment to appreciate the novelty.

Of course, it’s gone in a second; replaced with his natural enthusiasm. “Oh, did you want to practice at the park? I see, you wanted to bring me to a different environment because our rapport on the court was—”

Atsumu claps his hands over Hinata’s shoulders, lowering his voice. “If ya trust me, do exactly as I say. Go to the park. Got it? Do not follow me. Go straight to the park.”

“Aren’t you coming with—”

Atsumu fills his lungs with air, and firmly plants his feet on the ground. 

(A quick glance in the mirror at the man with the baseball cap. Still there. Good.)

Forgive me, Shoyo.

“GOOD LUCK ON THE DATE!” he says as loudly as he can, before it's shouting. 

Hinata goes red, sputtering. “Huh? Date?”

Atsumu claps his shoulders again, and gives him a subtle push. Hinata, still wide-eyed, stumbles along in the direction of the park, glancing back over his shoulder a few times. 

3. Wait.

Atsumu jogs the long way around the block to get to the park. 

It only takes five minutes of lurking behind a row of vending machines, and feeling a little sorry for Hinata who’s sort of nervously wringing his hands on a bench— he's the only other person in the park at this time on a school day— before the man in the baseball cap shows up. 

A camera is slung casually around his neck. The recording light is taped over. He’s so fixated on Hinata, he doesn’t notice Atsumu as he saunters up the path towards the machines.

(Which, all things considered, was quite surprising— Atsumu is not a small man.)

“Hey,” Atsumu says, once Baseball Cap is close enough. “Long time, huh? Two things. One, give me your camera. I know it's recording. And two, I have a few questions.”

4. Dispose of your paparazzi responsibly and ethically.

Fifteen minutes later, Atsumu is no closer to the truth; and is considerably more irritated.

“What am I supposed ta do with that?”

“Is he going to hit me?” Baseball Cap anxiously asks Hinata, “Can you hold my camera if he’s going to hit me?”

“Atsumu wouldn’t hurt anyone,” Hinata assures him. 

“I ain’t gonna hit ya, ya scrub! Don’t you go writin’ that up on yer damn blog next.” He pinches his nose, trying to calm himself. “I’m done with ya, go home. But wipe the memory card in front of me first.”

r/relationship_advice • 1 hour ago

u/fattytuna95

UPDATE: I want to ask out my twin brother's girlfriend.

I didn’t want to come back here again, but I don’t know what to do.

Like one of you suggested, I asked the guy who took the picture. You were right. He's been following them.

(Creepy as hell, to be honest, but he didn't seem like a bad dude. And he was pretty skinny. Guess being a privacy invading douche doesn't pay well. I think even my female colleague could take him down if she tried, so that's fine.)

What he told me is this: she stayed overnight at his place twice this week. 

Now I know what you're thinking. It's a lost cause. Pack it up and move along. Right? 

No.

Here's the thing— I was worried my brother was developing feelings for her, and I still am, but if they were already sleeping together he would have told me. There's something else going on here. I mean on top of the fake dating bullshit.

And for some reason, they're not telling me.

How do I find out what without telling them how I know?

↑ 65 ↓ •••

u/unicornpoodle • 4 minutes ago

wowww

dude, are you sure you want to keep going through with this? There's a lot of things you can unsee but walking in on your  brother fucking your crush is probably not one of them...

(and you're a twin to boot! You'd see exactly what could've been. Now that'll mess you up!)

↑ 15 ↓   •••

u/fattytuna95 • 4 minutes ago Shut up!!! I don't want to think about that!!!!!! ↑ 10 ↓   •••

u/guiltyassassin_ • 10 minutes ago

lol I was lowkey joking about asking the guy, didn't think you'd actually do it. good for you. but uh, I might be with poodle on this one. you don't want it to be true, sure. but maybe they just didn't tell you? so it wouldn't be awkward at work?

↑ 12 ↓   •••

u/fattytuna95 • 9 minutes ago I shared a womb with the guy. I'm sure. You're an only child, aren't you? ↑ 12 ↓   •••

u/msbygirlie_13 • 5 minutes ago

This is exciting!! I don't agree with everyone else, I think you should get to the bottom of it!!! Like atsumu said in his volleyball monhtly interview in june '21, the game isn't over until the ball falls to the floor!!!!! the ball is NOT on the floor yet!

maybe you should go over to your brother's apartment and see if there's any evidence.and you should just show up. don't give him any time to clean it. you can do that right???

↑ 12 ↓   •••

u/fattytuna95 • 5 minutes ago Hmm that could work actually. I've been there so much, I'll definitely notice if something's out of place. ↑ 10 ↓   •••

u/unicornpoodle • 3 minutes ago are you saying this because you believe in it, or because you want more update posts? this shit is going to be hilarious ↑ 5 ↓   •••

u/msbygirlie_13 • just now ofc I believe in everything atsumu says, omg!!! he's the best, fattytuna will agree with me. ↑ 1 ↓ •••

Osamu frowns at the cloudy night sky as he pulls the shutters down over Onigiri Miya's window. The moon is hidden, only a hazy hint behind the grey.

"Looks like rain," he comments, glancing over his shoulder. "Sorry I kept ya waitin'. We should've just done it another night."

Behind him, standing under the streetlight, you can already feel the tiny droplets drizzling on your face. But you shake your head. "I can just stay over again. We always end up losing track of time, and your place is closer to work than mine anyway."

The lock in Osamu's hand clatters against the corrugated metal. "Want ta move in and really sell it?"

You roll your eyes. "I would, but we're not a good match. We'd feed each other too much and end up gaining so much weight."

He chuckles. "Hey, at least I can appreciate raisin bran cookies. Ya won't catch me spittin' food outta my mouth."

You laugh at that. It wasn't his fault, you want to say, smiling fondly at the memory. He didn't realise I was joking about it being chocolate chip.

"Hey, Osamu?"

"Yeah?"

"Should we just tell him?"

now what could they be up to? [my other fics->] please leave a like/reblog/reply/send me an ask if you enjoyed! <3 divider @/cafekitsune

[everydayyoulovemeless]

Hi! If you are still taking requests, I'd love a head cannon with marrying the companions at the castle, and how they would feel? Thank you for considering this! ❤️

Marrying the Fo4 Companions at the Castle

➼ Word Count » 1.7k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Romantic ➼ A/N » I didn't add Codsworth because I couldn't stop thinking about Nate/Nora dying and then their spouse remarrying their butler. Felt too awkward😭

MacCready never imagined that he'd ever find someone who would love him as much as Lucy did and still know of his entire past. It makes him hopeful that Duncan could actually get a second partner to rely on in the future. He's never been too close with any of the Minutemen but, I imagine if he had to pick he'd choose them as his preferred faction. So, being married at the Castle wouldn't be an issue for him, but he'd get married just about anywhere as long as it meant you'd be the one he got to marry. It's one of the only times he doesn't intentionally pick a fight with Preston as he desperately wants his help with making him look his best. He knows he won't steer him wrong, since he's so close to you. He's so fidgety and nervous, but couldn't be more thrilled to devote the rest of his life to you.

Nick doesn't mind getting married at the Castle. If you'd asked him, he would've suggested the All Faiths Chapel, but in hindsight, the Castle seems a tad more appropriate for the two of you. Especially, when you consider that most of your loved ones are either already there or close enough in range to reach it safely. He cleans himself up quite nicely for the occasion, having Sturges help polish off his body's more visible aspects. He's a sucker for vintage weddings, and if you could somehow convince either Strong or a group of Minutemen soldiers to move one of those old cars into the venue, he'd consider proposing to you all over again.

Cait couldn’t care less where you two got married. She’s just glad that she’s going to marry you at all. Even if the Minutemen get on her nerves, she can’t help but find herself teary-eyed at the thought that you love her enough to even want to marry her. Even if it's almost certain that she's going to get into an argument of some sort with one of the faction members, she's still going to do her best to get along with everyone at the venue and make it fun for the both of you. She's never been a big fan of weddings and would prefer it if you only invited a small number of people, but besides that, she'll do her best to be as vulnerable with you as she possibly can on this day. Her being completely upfront and honest with you about how she feels is the least she could do after everything you've both been through together. It's the most emotional you have ever, and probably will ever see again.

There aren't many places at the Boston Airport that make sense to use for a venue so, Danse understands why the Castle is where you'd want to hold it. Even if they aren't Brotherhood, Danse still holds a lot of respect for the Minutemen soldiers and wouldn't mind playing nice if it meant making this day more memorable for you. He might even come to find that him and Sturges have a lot more in common than he initially thought. With them both being interested in power armor and whatnot. Danse is sorta like a puppy when it comes to these things, anywhere you want to go and anything you want to do, he's fully on board with. The location doesn't matter to him, as long as he's able to slip a ring on your finger. He's mainly just glad to be apart of your life in such a meaningful way and he hopes it'll stay that way for a long time to come.

Preston couldn't be happier to share this moment with you in a place he holds in such high regard. Especially since everyone he cares about is right here with you both in this moment. There’s nowhere more perfect in his mind and he’s overjoyed to be able to marry you despite the world being so tainted. It makes him that much more determined to defend the Commonwealth knowing that there are people like you still living in it. He does everything in his power to make the day go as smoothly as you could ever hope. He doesn't rest until the venue looks just as you described it to him, every little detail you dreamed about to him set in stone before your big day. Nothing is out of place, and he can't wait to see your expression when you see the effort he put into it all.

Piper had always been too enamored in her work to really consider a day when she'd get married to someone. She surprises herself when she agrees to commit herself to you for the rest of her life but, she supposes it's a welcomed one. The Castle would not have been her first choice when thinking of places to get married. If it were up to her, she would've picked somewhere on the coast. So, the two of you compromise and do it just outside the Castle on the sandy parts of the territory. She finds it to be much nicer on the outskirts, especially with the soft sound of the waves in the background. Nat makes the perfect flower girl for the occasion and she makes sure you're feeling more laid-back about the day rather than stressed. A light-hearted, casual wedding on the beach is all she could ever want.

Curie is so excited to wear a white dress! She’s read about this ritual before, but being able to partake in it is something she finds lovely! She couldn't care less where it happens, as long as the two of you can make it as accurate to the pre-war version as you can. She'll spend hours rambling to the Minutemen soldiers about all sorts of different topics out of being so nervous, but luckily for her, they're kind enough to just let her talk. Being able to experience something that holds such high importance to couples helps her to feel more human in her new body. There are so many different things she wants to do to further implement her as a person, and what better way to start than by getting married?

Strong doesn’t want to get married. It didn’t seem to work out all that well with Macbeth, so why would he want that for himself? Can’t you be a unit together without all your weird human rituals? Besides, there's no way anyone would ever get him into a classier outfit.

Hancock would’ve preferred to have married you in Goodneighbor since it's his home and everyone he planned to invite is there. But he's honestly so head over heels for you that he’d marry you in the glowing sea if that’s what you desired. He'll just ask to have two weddings instead of one, that way both of your 'families' can witness it without it being too much of a hassle. He's actually kinda glad your first wedding will be held at the Castle because he can't tie a tie to save his life, and Preston is way nicer about it than anyone in Goodneighbor would be. This way, he can learn and not be teased about it every time he walks into his own town, and Preston promises to keep his secret for him.

Deacon feels uncomfortable about getting married in front of everyone. He’d rather you go somewhere where it’s only you two and slide a ring on each other's fingers after saying your vows. No crowd, no long tradition. He's really nervous about the wedding, especially since it's being held in a place that means so much to you and to everyone else in the Minutemen. He wants to make this special, but his fear of being vulnerable is slowly killing him. He's so afraid that he'll get to the front of the makeshift alter and make a fool of himself. He's so shaky that you almost have to go over and ask how he's doing. He'll do it for you, just know he's having a few drinks beforehand to encourage his more charismatic side out of him. If that doesn't prove his love for you, I don't know what does.

X6-88 would hate it but would be surprisingly quiet about it for your sake. He thinks the Castle is disgusting, and he doesn’t particularly like the Minutemen, even if you are the general, but he wants this to be your day and so he’ll marry you where you want. The Institute would’ve been cleaner, and he could’ve arranged nicer decorations, but he supposes it doesn’t matter, as it’ll be him putting a ring on you either way. He can look forward to that, at least.

Old Longfellow would be pretty open about not wanting to get married there. He wants to compromise a little bit with you, as all of his closest friends are in Far Harbor and all of yours are in the Commonwealth. If anything he’d prefer to marry you in a place somewhere in the middle of those two places. You'll have to sit down with him and decide on a place that works for both of you and, if you can't find one, he has no issue just being with you. He's a firm believer in not needing to be married to prove your love for your partner. So, if that's how it ends up being, that's how it'll be.

Gage never imagined he’d ever get married, let alone at a Minutemen settlement. What were the odds? It’d take a lot of convincing to get Preston to agree to let you get married to a raider in the Castle. He gets slight flashbacks to Quincy at the thought of someone like him entering Minutemen territory so freely. But, as much as he disproves your relationship, he’ll let go of his grudge for the day so you two can get married. Security is amped up like crazy though. Gage personally doesn’t care where he gets married as long as it’s not in Nuka-World. The gang members aren’t too fond of the ritual and will begin to look down on both of you for participating in something so “classy”. It’s best if they don’t know.

[demigods-posts]

okay but. annabeth having having feelings for percy. and KNOWING he's developing feelings for her too. but refusing to act on it until she thinks he's about to die. and she'll never get another chance to. so kisses him. and then he crashes his own funeral two weeks later. and now neither of them can deny the tension anymore. and they still have a year left to see if it's even worth saying out loud. or if he was always destined to leave her. because the prophecy has yet to pass. peak writing.

[servicpop]

✶ ﹑ㅤspring break flingㅤ﹏

NOW STARRING : deliquent (still not yet) bf Adrien x good student m!reader

「ㅤNSFWㅤ」ㅤSpring break is around the corner and the school plans a trip to the water park! Adrien and reader are still on tough terms but Adrien can't bear another moment to see you with anyone else!

✙ warnings — reader is kinda pervy and is suggested to take interest in their friend | jealous Adrien, risky/semi-public sex, bite marks, degradation, he's very possessive, dubcon(?), slightly overstim

notes ,, mushed both requests for Adrien together

It had been a week or so after the whole cockblocking incident with Adrien, but you've learnt to shake it off. Besides, the more important thing was the trip to the water park that was planned by your school to congratulate the seniors for their hard work in studying! Of course, being the student president, you were assigned to assist in the event and help everything go as smoothly as planned. Unfortunately, this meant that you had to sacrifice your time to actually get in the water and swim to help out, but you didn't mind as much knowing how many little kids have peed in the pools...

On the day of the trip, you were given a badge that adorned your name and the smaller letters of 'helper' underneath it as well as a corny custom shirt with your school's logo on it that was made by your teachers. Getting onto the bus didn't require much from you since your real job was to walk around the park aimlessly and stop any of the students from accidentally— or purposefully— committing a crime that would get the whole school banned. As you ushered your friend to sit on the window seat of the bus, like the gentleman you are, you opted for the isle seat so you could stretch your legs throughout the 3 hours it would take to reach your destination.

One by one your classmates shuffled through the bus, picking and choosing their ideal seats with smiles across their faces; it wasn't often that the school provided a field trip like this. Your eyes locked onto a few of Adrien's friends walk by your seat, but none of them were the man himself. You figured someone like him would rather skip school trips, in fact, you can't remember the last time you actually saw Adrien whenever there was a school trip. It would be nice to have him around sometimes though, just once. But you couldn't think like that! Not after all the stress he's caused you, and— speak of the devil; you hear that familiar rumble of Adrien's laugh as he walks onto the bus. You take the iniative to turn your head away from Adrien in an attempt to ignore him, your friend picked up on your actions and giggled at you.

A lingering brush of warmth against the skin of your forearm made your hairs rise and your body shiver. That bastard purposefully used his calloused fingertips to tease you. Your head whipped back and you caught a glimpse of Adrien's smirk before he turned his head away from your direction. He always found ways to make your heart race, and you couldn't tell if it was endearment or anger.

The sun was harsh against your skin as you wandered the premises of the water park. The whole process of trying to get a shitload of people into the water park was a nightmare and feeling Adrien's piercing gaze on your back 24/7 wasn't helping either. But finally, after that agonising hour, you were left to the peacefulness of your own thoughts as you ventured the park. You felt a tingling sensation of regret in your heart from seeing all your classmates splash around in the water. It must've been heavenly in this heat.

One of your friends must've noticed how flushed you were getting from the heat and called you over to the food court, "You look like you're dying, prez," having your friend call you 'prez' in a shortened version of president was kind of corny but you dismissed it nonetheless. One thing good about this heat was the fact that you could see the builds of all the guys, and your friend was no exception. "Is that the heat making your eyes wander or...?" Your friend let out a light-hearted chuckle when he saw the way your eyes drooped down to peak at his body. Damn, were you really that much of a pervert? You playfully nudge his shoulder in embarrassment before he offered to buy you icecream from one of the food stalls, and you follow him more than willingly.

"Who's that?" Adrien witnessed you get swept away and he couldn't help his jaw from clenching. Without a word, he left the wave pool almost immediately to tail after you, leaving his friends confused by the sudden mood change.

You and your friend bought ice-blocks and sat down together on a nearby bench, unaware that Adrien was watching from a distance. The bystanders shuffled away from him and some mothers even pulled their children away from Adrien. You bought the raspberry flavoured one and your friend bought the pineapple, and surprisingly it was better than the ones you bought at the store. "Hey, let's switch, I wanna taste yours," and before you knew it, your raspberry flavoured ice block was replaced with his pineapple one. You didn't mind too much since you were friends so you shrugged it off and tasted his, the tangy and sweet taste twirled on your tongue with the hint of sourness pricking your taste buds. Not bad, but the raspberry one was better, "I like mine better—" a hand grabs your collar and tugs you off the seat like a kitten being held by its scruff. You knew exactly who it was from the way your friend's eyes widened with slight fear — he was a deliquent after all, people were naturally afraid.

"What is your problem?!" You struggle in his grasp as Adrien dragged you into one of the bathroom stalls, slamming the door shut and locking it. You wince when your back is shoved against the wall and caged in. Adrien really did have a thing for pinning you to a wall in public places huh... "What are you doing with that guy?" You can hear the anger rumbling in his voice as his eyes pierced straight into your soul, his hand gripped your jaw, preventing you from looking away, "Sharing saliva like that? You know that's an indirect kiss right?" You could hear the sand on the floor crunch under the weight of Adrien's foot and you only really noticed now that he was wet. Droplets of water hung at the tips of his hair and created a layer of shine that glossed over his abs.

"If you want a guy so bad, I'm right here you fucker," Adrien's breath hitches at his own statement and he found his hand prying off his swimwear, groaning at how the water stuck to his skin and made it a slight bit more inconvenient to take off. He was impatient, could you really blame him? "He's just a friend," you retaliate, doing nothing to stop him but nothing to encourage him either, "Are you really upset over that—" And once again he's cut you off, flipping you so your back pressed agaisnt his chest. You grimace at your clothes getting damp from the water on his body and you flinch at the sudden coolness that pooled at your back. He doesn't respond to you, rather, he clasps your belt and slides it off. Was he really planning to fuck you in the bathroom of a water park?

"You looked at that guy like you were dating him, are you?" Adrien bit back. Literally. He latched his teeth onto the curve of the side of your neck to your nape, sinking his teeth into your skin, laying his tongue flat agaisnt it. You wanted to respond, you wanted to tell him that you were dating him and that you weren't exclusive. But were you really in the position to speak up when Adrien's pulling your boxers down and rubbing his cock along the line of your ass? As much as you tried to contort you body into turning to look at him, his body pressed you flush against the wall. You couldn't see his face but from the little groan he let out, you could tell he craved this as much as you did if not more.

He spat on his fingers, coating them in his saliva as make-shift lubricant before lining the tips of his fingers to your rim. "Does he know your body like I do, huh?" He skipped the initial step of 'one at a time' and pushed two fingers inside you; the slight burn caused your body to squirm uncomfortably. Your palms lay flat against the wall for stability as Adrien rocks your hips along with his fingers that curl inside you, eliciting a small groan. The way his fingers have already found your prostate was insane and he certainly wasn't going to let this discovery go to waste. Repeated thrusts of his fingers bullied your prostate, your voice spilt out like water, filling the room with lewd sounds. "Fuck," You cursed under your breath; your teeth catching on your bottom lip, biting down in a futile attempt to muffle the noises.

You couldn't see his face but you knew damn well Adrien was grinning like a Cheshire cat. He removed his fingers from your ass, slipping them out with a small pop before slapping his dick agaisnt the curve of your ass connected to your back, "I don't care if we aren't together. I don't care if you don't want me, I want you more than my next breaths and no one can take that away from me." Adrien's voice was heavy and sultry as he spoke to you, and his breath fanned your ear, causing goosebumps to run down your spine. The shuffling behind you indicated that Adrien was moving and suddenly you felt a hand grasp your nape while another found its comfort on your hip. You could barely make it out through Adrien's heavy breathing but he whispered under his breath, "perfect."

The anticipation was eating away at you. You knew Adrien loved taking his sweet time to savour you. Adrien seemed to read your thoughts — or the way your body involuntarily rocked against him — and he finally prodded his tip at your entrance, sliding in slowly with a low growl that reverberated in the tight bathroom stall. Fuck, it felt heavenly. He was able to fit inside you so perfectly, like you were moulded and made just for him. A whine ripped through your throat from both the pain and the pleasure of Adrien thrusting into you. He buried himself to the hilt, circling his hips when he was filly sheathed inside you before pulling out just to pound back into you which pulled out another moan from your lips. All these embarassing noises were saved for him. Just for him.

Adrien had pressed you so close to the wall that every so often the underside of your cock would brush against the cold wall, sending a shock of pleasure up your body. At first Adrien was confused, almost concerned how your body would jerk and his hips stuttered, unsure if he was hurting you. But he later found out the true reason behind it and a grin plastered across his face, "Is it too cold for you?" He cooed with faux concern, "I'll help you warm up," Adrien's voice dropped an octave as the hand that was placed at your nape snaked down to your cock, sliding it between the wall and your poor dick. The sudden warmth was no better, in-fact it was probably worse as now your cock was engulfed in the heat from Adrien's palm. Your mind began blanking when he slid this thumb over your slit, rubbing it repeatedly as he pounded into you from behind. The slow, gentle movement of his thumb contrasted with the harsh and fast thrusting of his hips which didn't help the overstimulation. "Adrien— not both," You whined, trying to pry his hands off your dick weakly but ultimately failing in the end as he pinned your hand back agaisnt the wall, intertwining your fingers with his, "You can take it, c'mon, I know you can," he groaned loving the way you squirmed, trying to escape from the pleasure but also not doing anything to seriously stop it.

Except... you couldn't take it. Adrien rolling his thumb over your tip while he hit your prostate at the same time made you see stars and you couldn't stop yourself from cumming on the spot; white fluid spurted onto the bathroom wall and your moan came out high pitched and shaky. Your voice had always been a turn-on for him so naturally he came too at the sight of you reaching your climax. His hips stuttered before he wrapped both arms around your waist, bear-hugging you as he held you close to his body while he stuffed you full.

The bathroom was now filled with heavy breathing and the slight musk of sweat and sex in the air. "Can you let go of me?" Your words broke the awkward silence and you found yourself unable to move from Adrien's iron grip, "Mm... I wanna stay like this," he groaned like a needy little kid, tightening his grip around your waist as if you were a teddy bear. Adrien grabbed your chin and turned it to the side, allowing him to lean in for a quick kiss which you groan at. He pulls up his swimming shorts and helps you put your clothes back on too, "Don't do that again if you still want your full ability to walk," Adrien warned before swinging the door open and walking out without turning back. Another frustrated groan leaves your throat as you follow him out but in the opposite direction with a slight limp.

"God, do you see him limping?" "What do you think he did for Adrien to beat him up like that?" "Damn, I hope he's okay, that looks like it hurts." You could hear the soft murmurs and whispers of your classmates when you walked out of the stall, they really were clueless, huh?

notes ,, long awaited... more adrien...

[lucrezianoin]

Here is how to get astarion approval so high he will proposition you before the tieflings party. No evil choices, just some chaos. The score you want is 40.

Not all of these are necessary btw, if you di all of this you'll get over 40. Avoid what sounds too evil and check that you're getting up to 40. Also remember that for the party romance you actually only need 20.

- When Lae'zel is in the cage, talk to her before releasing her and ask her to say "please"

- Attacking the thieves at the ruined temple

- When Shadowheart mention needing a cure (at camp) make sure to choose the option about being cautious

- When you meet with Zevlor, refuse to help saying you have your own problems. (you can help anyway, don't worry)

- When Lae'zel meets the tiefling and ask him to bow, go along with her at least once, then you can stop her and apologise to the poor man

- When you meet Wyll, you can talk with the guy training the children. Tell the children that they will all die

- After saving Arabella, tell the druid woman that you just wanted to see what would happen

- When you meet Auntie Ethel at the refugees' camp, let her fuss over you and then tell her about the tadpoles

- You know the kid with the magic ring trick? Pocket that ring

- When you meet the two siblings mourning their dying brother, Astarion will approve of you send them to face the owlbear (but I never choose this, because it makes me sad). But I think the big approval comes in the dialogue just next, where you can say that using the tadpole seems like a great idea

- At the blighted village, when the goblin spots you, you will get approval if you attack them back

- Say boooo to Volo

- Open the door where the sexy moans are happening

- At the entrance of the goblin camp, if you can, thow shit at the guard

- There's a goblin that will ask you to kneel and kiss his foot. Uno reverse it, and intimidate him

- Let the cleric at the goblin whip you

- After you free the owlbear, pet them at camp

- Get the necromancy of thay, and the amethyst that fits in it and give it to Astarion

- Recruit Karlach with him in the party

- Killing the monster Hunter will also shoot up your approval of TEN POINTS. I usually never kill him, but if you're close to the party and you really want to get to 40, this is also an option

- When you meet Raphael, agree with Astarion that you should not trust him

- If you decide to do auntie ethel too, make sure to convince her to free Maryna and get the deal at the same time

Now, I think the majority of approval will come with how you talk with him at camp.

- Go along with his dialogue about killing you if there's any tentacle showing. Just play along, don't shut him down

- Go along with the "whose blood would you drink" dialogue. Your answer doesn't really matter as long as you don't shut him down

- When he bites you, of course, offer to give him your blood

- During the mirror dialogue (sometimes it happens pre-sleeping together) you can insult him a bit (you're not aging gracefully), but at the second reply reassure him. The last reply is fine for all the lines and they seem to all get approval, as long as you don't just leave.

In general this is usually all I need to get to 40, which is pretty high. In my last playthrough I managed to also get to 40 without doing many of these.

But as I said, you only need 20. Just remember that he likes being petty and asserting dominance over others, he loves the tadpole, he is cautious, he's a little silly and chaotic, he's selfish, he likes joking and talking so don't shut him down.

Just remember that he's much more explicit about sex being an exchange if you get the proposition before the party, and you end up missing the scene of the party. Up to you! If you see that he's at 40 he will proposition the moment you talk to him, so if you accidentally got his approval too high and want to see both scenes you can technically kill the goblin leaders and free halsin, talk to him, then when you sleep you get directly to the party where you will have the party scene too.

[jackdaw-kraai]

I think there’s something rather strange going on with all the folks who insist that the Jedi Order in the PT was right and didn’t forbid love and Anakin should just have followed their teachings when the whole point of the prequels is that they are prequels. They come before the OT, and the OT proves the Jedi wrong. They literally do not make sense if they don’t do that.

Luke, in the original trilogy, gains his ultimate triumph, his ultimate victory, because he loved in defiance of the teachings of the old Order. He quite literally had the ghosts of the past telling him, explicitly and without ambiguity, that he has to put his love for his father aside and kill him, as is the duty of a Jedi. Luke has the weight of millennia of teachings weighing down on his shoulders, telling him they knew and know better than a young, inexperienced man barely out of his teenager years. That he should follow their teachings or be destroyed. That is an immense weight to carry, and many people would and explicitly have given in to it in-universe. What are your feelings and ideals in the face of such immense legacy, after all?

But Luke doesn’t give in.

He doesn’t bend.

He says “I may be young, and I may be new, but I believe to my heart and soul that love matters more than this legacy. Matters more than your teachings.” And he says this to the ghosts of his mentors. That is such a powerful moment and one I can’t believe George Lucas didn’t create deliberately for even a second. This young man, being told he has to kill or die trying for a system that is dead or dying itself, that couldn’t survive itself, and refusing to do so. He is the living refusing to continue the violence of a dead generation. He is the young man refusing the draft into a war the old generation started, saying “peace and love matters more than you being right.” He is the embodiment of breaking the cycle.

And the movies vindicate him.

The main villain vindicates him with his last dying breath.

Darth Vader, dying, says “You were right.” and admits he and his were wrong. The main antagonist, Luke’s nemesis, in the face of his son’s immense, defiant love, gives way and does the impossible: he comes back to the light and dies a Jedi. The very thing the old Order says was impossible.

They were wrong. They have to be. The narrative demands it, the movies don’t make sense without it.

The solution was never to continue the cycle of the old Order, or Luke would have failed there, would have failed when he said “I am a Jedi, like my father before me.” And claimed that defiant, deviant, condemned definition of being a Jedi over the one presented to him by the Grandmaster of the old Order. If the old Order was right, Luke would have to be wrong. Be wrong about love, be wrong about laying down the sword, be wrong about refusing to fight. He would have to be wrong.

But the old Order is dead, explicitly killed by a monster, in some part, of their own making. It’s members only existing as bones in the ground or ghosts speaking from beyond the grave. They did not deserve it, it should not have been inflicted on them, but the narrative is clear on this: “The old way is dead, and was dying for a long time before that. Long live the new.”

Luke is that new. Luke is the breaking of the cycle, the reforging of swords into ploughs, the extended hand. Luke says “I don’t care how much I was hurt, I refuse to hurt you back, and you don’t need to hurt me either.”

“We can end this together and choose love instead.”

And Darth Vader, killer of the Jedi, End of the Order, lays down his arms as well, and reaches back as Anakin, saying “You were right.”

It wasn’t Obi-Wan, Yoda, Mace, Qui-Gon, or even Ahsoka who achieved the ultimate victory in the end, following the tenants of the old Order. It was Luke. Young, inexperienced Luke, who saw that the age of legacy handed to him was only history, that the sword handed to him as his life was only a tool, and that the decrees of the dead were only advice. And he took it all, said “thank you for your experience, but I’ve got it from here,” and laid it all down to instead extend an open hand towards his enemy.

And his victory, his ultimate triumph, his vindication, was that he was proven right when his enemy reached back and became just another person. Just another person, just like him.

The Jedi did not deserve what happened to them, and they did not deserve to die. But the story is clear on this: the Jedi of old were wrong, and the Jedi of new, the Last Jedi, was right. No sword or death will ever end the rule of the sword or end the bloodshed. But love?

Love can ignite the stars.

[greenglowsgold]

The List.

Based on the Cass Apocalyptic Series.

The first part of this has been rumbling around in my brain ever since that Super Sad Scene a month ago, but yesterday’s update gave me the other side of the coin, so to speak, and finally pulled it all together.

@somerandomdudelmao thanks for the fuel, friend

                              -----

                              Donatello’s days have become a series of checklists, as of late.

No, that’s not exactly true. His days have always been about lists: what he’s done, what he can delegate to someone else, what still needs doing. But these days he’s been doing less and listing more, piling tasks from the first category onto the second as fast as he can manage, hoping he has enough time to empty the queue.

The full catalog is written out in a series of files, reorganized for accessibility to the layperson and meticulously up-to-date as of yesterday. He meant to run through it again this morning, ensure all the relevant instruction manuals were attached to each item and double check his protocols, but he wasn’t… he couldn’t…

He’s going to die tonight.

It irritates him, his own miscalculation of the timing more than the stark presence of his oncoming demise. The latter has been inevitable for quite some time, long enough that he’s gotten used to the idea. But he thought he had another week or two, and he doesn’t like being proven wrong. He wonders if his brothers know.

Probably not. They know it’s bad now, obviously, because they’ve piled him with pillows and blankets and surrounded him on all sides, and Leo has finally gone quiet. But they trust him, they’ve always trusted him, even when they shouldn’t, so if he swears he’ll last a few more days, they’ll believe him. He thinks. He’s pretty sure. If they knew it was tonight, he doubts they would choose to sleep through it. Donnie thinks about waking them up, but only for a moment. He’d like to say it’s a noble act, to leave them in peace a little bit longer, but the truth is he’s just too fucking tired to move.

There’s something settled bone-deep in his chest, a heaviness that sits on him like a stone, a peine forte et dure pressing him down and down, stopping his voice and his breath and his heart. He wonders if this is what dying usually feels like, or if it’s unique to the Kraang. Raph would know.

He cranes his neck to the right, to catch Raph’s face out of the corner of his eye. Raph’s working eye is half-open, staring down at the floor. Donnie could ask him. (He won’t. Let him fall asleep.) The movement of his head is so slight it doesn’t even catch Raph’s attention. He’s too tired for anything more. He’s so goddamn tired.

His lists are out of reach at the moment, with his physical interfaces back in the lab and his ninpo locked behind a wall of oh-god-it-sounds-too-exhausting-to-even-try, but he memorized them all long ago.

Raphael: Maintenance (delegated to Casey, who has it well in hand). Plans (tucked away in a dedicated folder, long term, but someday they’ll have the materials, and Raph will have a proper body again, someday). Honey (yes, he passed that along last week).

Raph has access to the tracking programs, so he can keep an eye on everyone himself, even when Donnie can’t pull up locations or vitals for him anymore. He has his own space in the base once more, somewhere to close a door when he needs to (he insists he doesn’t, but Donnie isn’t a fool). He has more excuses to spend time with Casey, who’s taking over his upkeep. Donnie hopes it fills in some gaps for both of them.

He runs through the list, double checks each item. It’s his last chance to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything important.

He looks down, finds Mikey.

There’s a stockpile of the anti-aging serum in his safe, the formula in his database, plans for the permanent solution clearly labeled. As long as they have his lab, his systems, Mikey will be as young as his years. He’s walked him through the greenhouse, even if most of it is controlled by the computer system. Mikey misses the world being green; it’ll do him good to spend more time around the plants. He has his tea, his candles. He has Draxum, who by now should have received a — mildly — threatening message warning him not to pull any disappearing acts anytime soon. He has their ancestors, just a short call away.

Donnie’s sure Mikey will call on him soon. He doesn’t plan to stray far.

Up a bit. To the left. Leo.

The arm — Leo knows how to take care of it, as does Casey.

The passwords — reset, something even Leo will be able to remember without resorting to blackmail.

The schedule — reshuffled for the next few days, he’ll have a hard enough time sleeping as it is.

The photos — everything they have, even the embarrassing ones. He even managed a couple of prints, and one precious shot from their pre-apocalypse days, something for Leo to tuck into a pouch and carry with him, when they’re not around.

Raph, Mikey, Leo. He doesn’t think he’s missed anything. Donnie lets his head fall back, too exhausted to hold it up any longer.

Is it enough?

His mind stretches further out. He’s unraveling.

What about April? Her prescription is up to date, they just checked a month ago. She has the latest in his combat tech, which has kept her safe in the field this long, so he has no reason to think it will falter now. He’s leaving her a few extra pieces, since he won’t be able to use them anymore. Leo will find the time for a movie night once in a while, he’s certain, even if his taste in Jupiter Jim movies is horrendous. They still have coffee; he’d die before he let that particular supply run out. He will, actually.

Casey. Fuck, Donnie’s gonna miss his birthday. But he did plan for this, his protocols will kick in. The mask is finished, everything is in place. He’s reconfigured his workstations, fit them for a tiny human instead of a seven-foot turtle. Casey has a better head for mechanics than any of his brothers ever did. Kid likes to be useful, so Donnie’s left him as much use as he can. He’s taught him everything Casey can learn and left instructions for more, when he’s a little older and wiser. His family will take care of him, they’ll make sure he gets there.

The base. It has to hold, to give them somewhere safe. The infrastructure is sound, and they have people to manage repair work. Supplies are decent, the most critical items in stock, everything that can be made renewable is. Their allies — Leo handles interpersonal issues and leadership, but Donnie’s checked the list with a pragmatist’s eye, left notes and rankings for priority. Security is the largest concern, but he’s spent nearly half his time with his assistants since his self-diagnosis (he could have spent it with his family), running them through the programs and adjustments, trying to bring them up to somewhere in the realm of his own expertise (a fool’s errand, but still). They’ve been rigorously instructed, they understand that the little things like sleep are secondary concerns. It has to hold.

Is it enough? For them to be okay?

He’s done everything he can. He can’t do any more. So it has to be enough.

Donnie blinks, and for a moment isn’t certain his eyes will open again at the end of it. But they do. At least one more time, they obey him.

Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Home. He rolls back through the list. It’s his last chance. He can’t miss anything.

Mikey’s hand tightens unconsciously around his wrist, fingers meeting easily on either side. Donnie feels only the echo of the pressure.

Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Home.

Something bright sparks at the edges of his vision before it fades. The last gasps of a dying brain, he supposes. Synapses firing one last time before they’re snuffed out.

Raph.

Mikey.

Leo.

                                                            April.

                                                                                                                        Casey.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Home.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    Light.

                                                                                                                         There’s light.

                                                            It hurts.

                                                            He thought dying would stop the pain, but it’s risen to a fever pitch instead. His brother’s arms are gone, but the disease wraps around him in their place, consumes him. It rages like a wildfire, burning through his center until pieces start to flake away like ash.

Oh, this is what it does, what it was built for. The Kraang could have killed him in a lot of different ways. He’d wondered why they chose this one.

He hasn’t planned for it. This is something he didn’t even know to fear.

It’s bright and it hurts but it’s quiet as he crumbles, folds in on himself like a black hole in the utter silence of outer space. It’s quiet enough that the voice that breaks through does so clear as a bell.

His head turns to follow the sound, instinct. He’s lost half his field of vision, but what’s left is enough. He looks, and finds Casey.

Casey looks at him, at him, not the body. Donnie opens his mouth to ask a question — What are you doing here? How? Why? — but something else sloughs out instead. Not blood. He doesn’t have that anymore.

Casey calls his name once more and starts running.

Donnie’s questions fold back into his mind. His mouth clicks shut, he swallows back the putrid rot and pushes himself up. His arms are shattered but they’ll have to hold him. They have to. Because Casey is here and he needs something, which means Donnie missed something, which means he isn’t done.

His spirit disagrees with him, doesn’t see the logic. His arms don’t hold.

Casey reaches to catch him as he falls, and the touch ruptures him instead. He scatters. Into the air and the ground and Casey. For a moment, he’s just pieces, fumbling around and latching onto anything that welcomes them, and Casey does that. They flow into him. They’re him. They’re…

He’s…

Casey, he’s…

Donatello pulls himself back together. Most of himself, anyway. The infection hasn’t followed him but the damage persists. He’s run through with cracks and crevices, shaking bits away into infinity with every movement. But there’s more of him here than not.

Unexpectedly, Donnie is not gone. He’s still dead, but that’s fine, he planned for that one.

                                                                                                                         Casey has him now. He wraps himself around Donnie in layers, helps hold him together with a kind of sheer will that makes up for any lack of mystic knowledge in spades. Casey asks him to stay, and Donnie takes up the task like Sisyphus sizing up the hill. This time, this time I’ll do it right.

Even better, Casey has taken him to another time, one where all of Donnie’s long-term plans are now completely-fucking-reasonable plans. Casey’s going to fix it, so Donnie can fix everything else. Whatever else needs it. He hasn’t really asked. And he knows he’s missed something, but he doesn’t think too hard about what, not yet.

First thing’s first: he needs a body.

It’s so simple to accomplish that it seems like the universe is mocking him. Just a quick 1-2-3, ticking off the list. It feels almost stupid, like running back through the early levels of a video game after unlocking all the ultimate weapons and burning through enemies and obstacles, laughing, shit, did I used to think this was hard?

In no time at all, his own face has formed in front of him.

In no time at all, he’s gasping.

It’s only been a few hours since he last breathed air, but he’s missed it.

Another thing he’s missed? Functional musculature. Casey slams into him and Donnie is startled to find that it doesn’t knock him over. His arms and legs look like actual limbs again, not fragile little sticks disguising themselves as such. He stands, dragging Casey along without a second thought. The weight barely registers. It’s amazing.

The power trip is heady, but it only lasts a few minutes before reality kicks it in the ass and pulls him back down to earth.

We lost, Casey says.

They’re dead, Casey says.

It wasn’t enough, Casey does not say, but Donnie hears it just as clearly.

All those plans, the preparations, the precautions and protocols, they only borrowed a year or two before they fell apart. He sees the timeline spiral out before him, tighter and tighter until it collapses in on itself, rendered all the more insignificant from his own point of perception. He was alive yesterday. His family is dead today.

Everything he did, it wasn’t enough. Of course it wasn’t. He was stupid to think otherwise.

(Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Casey’s still here. It was enough for him, at least.)

It cuts at him a little, to have been so wrong. But he’s strong again, now. He can take the wound. More importantly, he has another chance to get it right.

Donnie breathes. His chest expands smoothly, easily. The air doesn’t rattle in his lungs. He’s alive, he’s a genius, he can fix anything.

He pulls up a list.

[thatbookwhore]

***Iron Flame SPOILERS****

I am so incredibly disappointed with what everyone is choosing to talk about with this book. Everyone is concentrating on what happens with Xaden but you know what to me was the absolute most gut wrenching storyline in the whole book? General Lilith Fucking Sorrengail.

From the moment we see her again in the beginning of the book she is nothing but supportive and proud of her daughter. Yes, she absolutely made the wrong decision where she stands in the war, and what she did to Xaden was absolutely inexcusable. (Although I do think if she hadn’t done that they would have killed all the marked ones.) But she made all those decisions for her children. Because she did what she needed to to keep them safe. You can’t convince me that even after Violet leaves, that even after Mira leaves, that she wasn’t incredibly thankful for the fact they were together and with Xaden who would never let something happen to Violet.

Lilith went into the dungeons to get her daughter out of there and I am not unconvinced that had Violet not already been mid rescue the General wouldn’t have turned traitor right there to get her out. The scene when Brennen reveals himself to her?? She’s cracking and can hardly hold herself together and my heart felt so sorry for her in that moment. It made me mad at Brennan because he threw it in her face like ammo when Violet spent all of fourth wing describing how his death ruined their mother.

One of the most heart breaking quotes in the whole book is at the beginning of chapter 65:

“Most generals dream of dying in service to their kingdom. But you know me better than that, my love. When I fall, it will be for one reason only: to protect our children.”

General Sorrengail didn’t support the war, she didn’t fight for Navarre she made it clear fron the beginning that she was just a mom protecting her kids, and she did so without second thought. Without hesitation. She didn’t do what she did for the war effort, or even to help everyone on the battlefield. She did it for Brennen, and Violet, and Mira.

Lilith Sorrengail was just a desperate mother and everyone glossing over her sacrifice is bullshit.

[silv3rswirls]

Fawn

warnings: 18+, age gap(reader is 18), coercion, corruption, praise, humiliation, dirty talk, hair pulling, gaslighting and manipulation, alcoholism, some religious themes/talk, virgin/innocent reader, dark thoughts/fantasies, very vague mentions of familial abuse, shamming, obsession, overall yoongi is a ✨creep✨

Note: sometimes I piss myself off because I've been dying over this fic for days and now I don't even like it much anymore- can I have nothing?😭idk might start writing more smut now??

You were a fawn in headlights when he first saw you in that clearing. Your back had been to him and at first, he had swore and scoffed at you because who hangs around in the woods disturbing his peace? Everyone in this town knew he lurked behind the tree line, drinking himself stupid and doing whatever fucked up activities they rumored him to. Yoongi never minded being the talk of the town. He’d been an outcast since his teenage years. Since he stopped going to church with his family like every other prim family populating the place. They took some fun teenage rebellion and ran with it- he liked to think himself not as messed up as people whispered he was. He’d always thought himself not to be until he met you.

He found you picking berries and flowers, anything that looked pretty out in the forest. You were kneeling trying to choose the perfect dandelion to add to your basket when he stormed over; pissed that someone was in his usual drink until he couldn’t move anymore spot. He liked it because it was a short walk from where he liked to stare at the Sunday churchgoers leaving and freak them out. He could recall seeing you before, always glued to your mother's side wherever you went.

But he stayed away and kept to himself like always. He couldn’t say he had many, if any, friends around here. He’d been on his own since graduating and his family moved away shortly after. He hadn’t been close to them at the time so being left alone was welcomed at first. As for everyone else; if someone didn’t fit in around here they were an outcast without much care and it seemed that no one cared for him.

“What are you doing?” He barked, scowling as he approached you. Bottles clinked in the bag he was loosely holding and his cigarette was at the end of its life. You stood up, stumbling back a bit in shock. Yoongi wasn’t a kind person, so you’d heard, and his appearance didn’t do anything to help. He was scowling, his hair was frazzled from rolling out of bed an hour or so ago. Dressed in darker colors, a sweater and thick coat layered in him. You wanted to laugh over how tired and grumpy he looked, but the nervous swirl in your stomach told you not to.

“I’m just picking flowers” You straightened up, knuckles white as you gripped the basket and your free hand smoothing down your skirt. 

“Well this is my spot” he rolled his eyes. He didn’t want to hear your stupid humming or see that ridiculous frilly dress you were in. Something about it pissed him off, he couldn’t place it exactly, but whatever it was would put a damper on his getting shitfaced in the woods plan for today. Besides, you had just come from Sunday service, he didn’t need any annoying pestering about drinking or sinning, or whatever he was sure you would pester him about.

Your eyes landed in his bag, before flicking up to him a bit wide. “Are you drinking out here?”

“So what if I am?”

He watches you look around, pressing your lips together for a moment. “Could I try?” His brows raised in surprise. interesting outcome of all of this he supposed? “It’s just, I’ve always wanted to.”

“I know your mom, she’s crazy, you know? Where is she?”

“Still at service, she helps plan the food drive” You smiled a bit proud, “It’s next week.”

Yoongi hummed. She was a nutjob, he’d lost track of how many times she’d harassed him in the past month alone. “So while she’s planning to feed the needy you want to drink?” You nodded and he looked around in disbelief. Was this a joke? Was someone going to jump out and condemn him for even entertaining this? 

“Here” he fished out a bottle and held it out to you. He watched you smile, a curious twinkle in your eyes as you carefully set your flowers down and took it. He waited for you to try, there wasn’t anything better to do anyway.

Your sudden shyness poked him the wrong way. He watched you bring it to your lips for a moment before lowering it with a new nervous expression. Second guessing your rebellion? “Come on” he urged, moving to grab your arm and pull you over to him. You stumbled, kicking over your flowers and stepping on them as he dragged you over.

“Hey-” you cringed, the bottle clinking against your teeth as Yoongi held you firm in place and forced the drink into your mouth. “I don’t like it” You managed to get out between the burn of liquor and sputtering as you tried to breathe. You broke away, yoongi dumping the rest of the bottle onto you; dripping it down your hair and face, and soaking your pink cardigan. “Why would you do that?” Your voice wobbled, and your eyes were wet as you looked at him.

“You said you wanted to try, stop being a baby about it.” He rolled his eyes. He watched the heat of embarrassment color your cheeks, big wet streaks stained your face and your hair clumped wet against your skin. “Get out of here now and don’t come back.” 

He watches you grab your things and scurry away, and in the distance, he can hear your mother scolding you from the parking lot. 

“Why does everyone hate Yoongi?”

The already tense air between you and your mother grew thicker on the ride home. She was angry over the smashed flowers you brought her for her centerpieces and even angrier over your now damp and smelly clothing. The fact that you had come running back to the car in tears, crying like a child over Yoongi.  

“Isn’t what he did to you answer enough sweetheart?” She sighed, “He’s never been right, even when he was your age.” She cringed, “Ever since his parents left he’s gotten worse. He’s a creep honey, stay away from him.”

“His parents left him?” You perked up slightly, basically ignoring everything else she said. “Why would they do that? That’s so sad.”

“If he was my child I’d leave him too” She scoffed, “don’t feel sorry for him, he’s everything I’ve ever warned you about. You don’t want to get tied up in all that mess right?” She asked. You didn’t answer.

The second time you ran into Yoongi was in the same stretch of woods. You had nervously ventured out there a few weeks after the last time, unsure if you wanted to run into him or not. Your mother was right about him being scary. You’d never interacted with anyone so harsh before, everyone your mother kept in your circle was kind and caring, just as you were. All women, no men really got close thanks to her. Other than being intrigued about being around him and all the things he did that everyone had drilled into your head were wrong; you felt a bit bad for the older man. You couldn’t imagine being all alone like he was or listening to all the awful things people said about him. He couldn’t be as evil as people wanted you to think, right?

Maybe he just needed a friend?

When he saw you again he smiled in welcoming. After spending a few weeks mulling over what happened and being publicly shouted at for ‘harassing her poor child’, Yoongi had decided he wanted to get closer to you. What better way to stick it to your mom than to mess around with you some more? You were naive enough not to catch on, so what was the harm?

You just talked for a few hours with him. He listened more than opened up. He listened to you talk about what you liked to do, where to find all the best flowers around here, about how you were nervous about the little recital the church was having next month for the Holidays, and how they wanted you to sing in it.

He watched you fiddle with the robbins decorating your hair. Watched you kick your legs back and forth off the rocks you were perched on beside him. Watched how your skirt scrunched and rode up just slightly every time you moved. 

He went home that night feeling a bit odd over the experience. You seemed genuinely glad to have someone new to talk to. He wasn’t sure how he felt, because you looked so cute sitting next to him chatting his ear off. 

He was fucked to put it lightly. You were everything he hated about the people in this town. Stupid and blindly following the herd…but with more of an innocence. All Yoongi knew was that he was down bad and frankly, a little pissed about it. How many whores had he had in the past and how many could he go out and find at this moment? Too many, maybe they were getting boring to him because right now all he could think about was you. He wanted to poke fun at and just piss everyone off at first, but now…now he just wanted corrupt you. Odd, he’d never felt the want to do it before to anyone, but something about you was sticking to him. How could he not with how cute and innocent you acted around him? Your fault really...hadn't your mother already warned you about men like him? He wanted to take you until the innocent air surrounding you was gone until all you could think about is him and how good he fucked your little virgin cunt. How cute you’d be under him. Covering your breasts and trying to hide away from his hungry eyes. Your cute little moans, moans you’d likely never made before. The feeling of you stretching around him for the first time. A little too much to handle, but you’re eager to please him. How wet you’d be, how it’d be such a challenge to bottom out, and how you’d squirm and try to resist the urge to be run over the edge as his hips pressed into yours. Your thighs twitch and try to close, too overwhelmed by the new sensations happening in your body. He’d leave you ruined; never to be the same again.

Yoongi blinked himself out of thought, he was sitting outside of his house having zoned out thinking about it all. 

Well, change of plans he supposed?

Two weeks later snow began to fall and hanging out with you had become routine. Admittedly, it wasn’t that bad. Other than an insatiable want to get you in his bed, he couldn’t say he hated every moment spent hanging around you. It was refreshing not to be by himself all day, he hadn’t had a real friend since early high school, and every day since had pretty much been spent alone. Stuck with a family that refused to speak to him until he admitted his sin and went back to church to grovel for forgiveness; he’d never do that even now. To his surprise you hardly talked about your family or religion; he had part expected you to try and drill it all into him. But you were pretty quiet and liked to laugh at all the ‘silly’ things he did as you liked to put it. You thought the way he slurred words when he was drunk was cute, but wouldn’t touch a drink from him after what happened, not unless he sweet-talked you enough. Sometimes it felt like he could sweet talk you into doing anything he wanted. Sometimes you’d let him put a shot glass to your lips and pour it down, wincing at the burn and getting watery-eyed. Yoongi wasn’t interested in bringing you anything gentle, he liked the hard stuff that could send him over the edge with a few drinks.

“Yoongi?” You asked one night. He was sitting beside you on the park bench, wrapped up in a plethora of jackets and hoodies trying to fight against the bitter air. Obviously, he couldn’t go to your place, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted you hanging around his yet. Truth be told he wasn’t sure if he could contain himself seeing you sitting in his bed just talking with that sweet tone of yours. Your eyes looking up at him, wide and fully focused on what he was doing or saying. You’d be wearing one of those silly frilled dresses you liked; he was sure of it. He’d thought about it so many times. How you’d let him get close and run a hand over your thigh, then over your stomach, to your chest. You’d let him kiss you, he knew you would. You liked doing what he said. You were so curious to partake in all the things he liked to do; all the things you weren’t supposed to do. One night he passed you a blunt without thinking much of it, you took it but nearly choked trying to smoke it for the first time. So you settled on letting him blow smoke in your face because he wanted to and you kept lying that you liked the smell of it.

“Yoongi?” You repeated, pulling him out of his daydream. He hummed, “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Go for it.” He’d lie if he didn’t want to answer, he lied to you a lot and you never seemed to pick up on it.

“Have you been in love before?”

“No.” He looked over at you again. You were playing with your hands in your lap, your nose was red from the cold and your hair was covered in snowflakes. He was still damp from earlier when you made him do a snow angel alongside you. “Why?”

“I don’t know “your face flushed, “I just wish I knew what it felt like. I’ve never been able to have a boyfriend” you explained, “Mom said I have to wait longer, I think she wants to find someone for me.”

“Well, that’s what good girls are supposed to do, right?” He asked, rolling his head back to look at the street light above and watching the snow flurries cluster around it. 

You were quiet for a moment, “I guess. I don’t know I’ve just been thinking alot lately, questioning some things.”

Yoongi nodded, he could remember when he started to as well. Hearing how everything in your circle talked about Yoongi didn’t sit right. Everyone should love everyone and get along, that is what you had thought everyone preached around you your whole life. Now they spoke about him like trash, ever since he poured the liquor on you. You hardly even cared much after the fact. It had been thrilling in your otherwise mundane life. Everyone thought you were staying clear of him, but you liked hanging out with him. Every evening when your mother left for work you ran to him. And every Sunday morning people still talked about what happened. How Yoongi shouldn’t be allowed to stay around here, how he was nasty and unholy, and how he'd do horrible things to you if you got close again. 

“You want a boyfriend?”

“My mom would kill me if she knew I did.”

Yoongi wet his lips and tugged your jacket until you looked at him. You were pouting, eyes cast down as you thought about it. “Well,” he started waiting for you to look up at him with your little doe eyes met his. “I could be your boyfriend” it rolled off his tongue, music to your ears. “No one will know, we’ll do all the things girlfriends and boyfriends do.” He waited for your reply, “unless you don’t like me?” He couldn’t remember the last time he spoke in such a tone: a soft and nearly whiny one. 

“No, I do!” You blurted out. “I want you to be my boyfriend, please Yoongi?”

He could listen to you say please all night.

“You’re not scared about breaking your mom's rules?” He egged in, “Not very good of you to lie.”

You scooted closer to him, grabbing his hand and pouting. “I-I don’t care about lying to her. Really! I’ve always wanted a boyfriend and I really like you, so why not?”

“Okay” he grinned, “I’ll be your boyfriend baby.” You grinned, genuinely excited. “We should make it official though, give me a kiss?”

You picked at the edges of your sleeves, “Y-yeah…but I’ve never…done that.”

Good, he thought. He wanted to be your first anything and everything. To teach you how to be a good girlfriend for him. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you. Just follow my lead.”

He grabbed your face, encouraging you to get even closer. Your legs pressed against his and he held your waist tight. He could see the shine of your strawberry lip gloss and the pink ribbon in your hair tickled his hand as he held your cheek. You were enthralled, gazing into his eyes like hearts were exploding behind you. He kissed you, trying to start slow and keep the cute boyfriend appearance up, but he was ready to get heated and messy with you. He did- kissed you harder, nibbled your lip, and pressed his tongue into your mouth. You were so meek under him, trying your best to keep up.

Your lipgloss was smeared- most of it left on Yoongi. You made it just-in-time before your mother got home. You scurried upstairs to change and pretend you’ve been in bed all night. You still felt breathless over the kisses. How he held you and how he asked you to be his girlfriend. You didn’t know how it was supposed to go, but you were sure he did it well. He had to. You hurried yourself under the covers. 

You had a boyfriend!

You kissed him!!

You smiled thinking about his hands holding you- how big they felt against your waist and his sting against your cheek. His lips were chapped and a bit cold against yours. He said he liked your lipgloss- the one you begged your mom to let you get just so you could wear it for him. 

“You’ve never touched yourself before?” You weren’t sure how the topic had been brought up, but Yoongi had just become far more interested in your video call after you let your secret slip out. You’d been lying around in bed talking to him for the past few hours. He was at home while you were stuck in bed for the night. Your mom was sick and hadn’t gone to work in a few days. You’d been missing Yoongi so he promised to call you.

“No…we’re not supposed to…my mom always tells me I shouldn’t it’s not pure and good.” You explained. Yoongi rolled his eyes, what a fanatic. 

“I used to think that, my family taught me the same things.” He started, “But I don’t agree. It’s normal, we’re all a little dirty sometimes, right bunny?”

You flushed, you liked it when he called you that. 

“I miss you, I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day. I wanna teach you more though, do you want to learn more next time?”

You nodded, slowly as you thought about his words. “You like when I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” you giggled. “Of course I do!”

Yoongi hummed, looking over the nightgown you were wearing. He liked kissing you well enough but he was starting to crave more. It’d been a while since he’d had sex, fantasizing about you while getting off was getting boring. He looked over your crossed legs, a bit upset it was long enough to cover your thighs- he liked them. It was, however, just snug enough to give him a subtle outline of your breasts, your nipples a bit hard grazing the fabric if you moved the right way. “Why’d you stop talking?” You pouted.

“You like my voice?” 

You nodded, “I really like it.”

“Wanna hear me call you pretty some more? How vain of you bunny. That’s a sin” he snickered, “does my voice turn you on?”

“I think so” You grew quieter, taking one headphone out and setting it aside to listen for your mother. 

“Is she still sleeping?”

“I think so.”

“You wanna do something for me, baby?” You nodded eagerly. “Touch yourself for me.” His tone was almost demanding, and needy as he shifted in his seat.

“But I’ve never…I’m not sure.”

“Come on,  try it for me?” Yoongi asked and very slowly you got off of your bed, leaving your phone propped against some pillows as instructed. Yoongi smirked, watching you look around your bedroom and to the door, double-checking the lock and listening for your mother. He was already feeling warm, mouth a bit dry as he looked you up and down. He couldn't help but to slip down his pants and tug at his cock in anticipation. The fact that you were so nervous, anxious that you’d get caught and reprimanded…that cute little nightgown you were wearing. “Just lift your nightgown” he wet his lips, watching you pick at the thin fabric and shyly lift it for him. “That’s it just a little, there you go” he encouraged, eyes glued to your panties. “Not so bad, right?” He smiled, and you let out a nervous, breathy giggle. “Turn around now” he watches you do as told, he hummed “bend over.” He watches you check your door again, a bit hesitant. “Don’t disappoint me now…good girl. Just…” Yoongi ogled over your ass, how the soft white fabric of your panties stretched over it, and how your legs pressed together now and again. “Just touch yourself for me” he finished. You did it for him, snaking a hand between your legs and clumsily playing with yourself. 

“Feels good?” He laughed at the little moans you let out now and again. “Don’t get shy, you’re so cute. Just show off for me baby.”

“You said you wanted to see it” Yoongi bit back a laugh. 

“I know, but…not here.” Your nose scrunched as you took another weary look around the alleyway. “Someone will see.”

“That’s what makes it fun” He grinned. He was feeling himself a little too much after a few drinks in his favorite bar. They wouldn’t ID him, and he knew they wouldn’t ID you. It was across town, too much of a trek for anyone who knew who you were to see. He’d gone through a few beers and some shots with you following him. You didn’t like the beer and refused a second shot, so he rolled his eyes and got you something smoother, fruitier. You were more content sipping on it, kicking your legs off the stool, and begging him to come to see you in the Holiday service on Sunday.

“You want me to come Sunday or not?”

“That’s not fair” you whined. Yoongi shrugged, leaning against the brick wall with his hips jutted out slightly. “Get on your knees for me bunny.” He watched you sink down, complaining when the slosh of rain and snow stained your stockings. “I’ll by you new ones” He assured, watching your brow knit ever so slightly as you fiddled with his belt; loosening it and going for his jeans button. He could feel his throat getting dry, ever since that little show he talked you through a few days ago he had been plagued with thoughts of you nonstop. You pulled his jeans down a bit, looking up at him for reassurance before shyly going for the boxers. He was already hard, it didn't take much from you nowadays. His fingers twitched, he wanted ot grab your hair and go to town, but he tried to take in your wide eyes, cautious little touches, and overall curiosity of it all.

“I don’t know if I should be doing this” Your voice was small, torn as you looked up at him again with a frown. “It feels wrong, I don’t know.”

“It’s okay, it's normal. Lots of girls do it, don’t you want to make me feel good? I made you feel good the other night, it’s only fair.”

"I know you better than you think baby. I know those dirty little sides of you no one else does. You keep saying this is wrong and you shouldn't be doing it…but you’ve been saying for days how you want to please me. Now it’s time. Want me to help you?” He murmured. You nodded, a mix of excitement and nervousness in your stomach as you looked around one last time. He snaked a hand through your hair and guided you closer. His tip grazed your lips, pouty and slick from your lipgloss. Egairly you opened your mouth for him, trying to breathe through the new feeling and anxiety of having him in your mouth for the first time. 

Yoongi on the other hand felt like he could melt then and there. The feeling of your hot mouth against him sent tingles down his spine. “Just suck on it a little, grab the rest with your hand, and stroke it for me, baby.” your hand felt so small and cold against him, it made him shiver. He tugged your head a bit, he couldn’t help it. Your inexperience was too much for him. He loved the clumsiness, the little noise you made as you choked on him, how drool dripped down your chin and stained your blouse. “I know you can take it bunny, tell me if you can’t- fuck” he hissed, “you’re so good for me.”

He came in your mouth- he hadn't planned to but hadn’t been able to help it the moment you peered back up to him. Your face flushed, your eyes wide and teary, still looking at him in adoration. You pulled back, saying something about not liking the taste and wincing when more landed on your face. Yoongi was too immersed in trying to calm down to make some witty remark, he just took a moment to steady his breathing and look down at you. “Sorry,” he was quick to get his pants back up and get down to your level to help clean up. He sighed, watching you pick at your ruined stockings and skirt, “We’ll go to the mall tomorrow, and I’ll try to come to see you Sunday.”

He tried to seem indifferent to the way your face lit up, lunging to hug him. He smiled and took you home.

After taking you to the mall and replacing your clothes, Yoongi felt needier than usual for you. He was ready to take up, ready to steal that innocence away. 

“Stop pretending you don’t want to” Yoongi laughed. “Do you like it?” Yoongi grinned. You squirmed in his lap. He could tell you were trying not to like it, your brow scrunched slightly. When he grabbed your face and made you look at him he could see the concern clouded with lust in your eyes. “I know you like it, stop lying to yourself” He had taken you home for the first time, wasting little time before pulling you to the bedroom for a makeout. 

“I do” you whimper, “but…I’m not supposed to do stuff like this” You frowned, “Not until I get married and-”

“We’re not having sex though, we’re just playing a little, right?” He asked, grabbing your hips tighter, pressing his bulge against you. Your skirt rode up more, your knees pressed into the sofa as he guided you to grind against him. You were starting to get a little bold when you were with him, it was hard not to when he was constantly grabbing at you and saying all the right things to get you worked up. He was ready to take this to the next level- ready to fuck you.

“Come on, fuck yourself against me, baby, you’re already soaked and I’ve barely touched you.” He slipped back into his mindset fast. Your hips moved with his, he could feel the wet spot staining his jeans as you moaned and squeaked in surprise every time he pulled you hard against him. “Want me to fuck you? Seems like it, want me to ruin your insides?” He was into it, into how good your clothed cunt felt against his jeans and hard-on, how red your face was getting and the little beads of nervous sweat forming on your forehead. How your fingers clasped his shirt and nails pinched his skin, how into you seemed to be getting.

“I shouldn’t, but it feels so good” You cried, while Yoongi nearly came at your breathly little whines. 

“it's okay to be dirty like this, it makes you feel good, right? makes you want to cum like a good girl for me?” Yoongi went on, “Or we can stop, you can just pretend we didn’t do anything and go home, is that what you want?” “No” you cried, “It feels good. I wanna cum.” You shyly spoke, quickening your pace as he rutted against you.

“You gonna let me fuck you now?” He had been half serious when he said it, still content with sucking on and leaving hickeys on your shoulder. When you say yes? He felt like his brain short-circuited, he had you on your back in an instant; staring down at you like a hungry animal. Your shirt was unbuttoned, chest flushed and marked up from the groping. You were looking at him through lidded eyes, your legs still pressed together in anticipation as he moved in. 

“Fuck this is so wrong, isn’t it bunny?” Yoongi let out a shaky exhale, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long, god you feel so good.” You were flushed under him, biting back moans and trying to take the pain of the first stretch like a good girl, like you knew he wanted you to. “I’m trying to go slow baby, but fuck…You’ll forgive me if I can’t, right?” He leaned closer to you, peppering kisses over your neck and sucking dark marks on your skin. “Please forgive me, baby, I’m gonna ruin you.” He murmured. He knew you’d never hate him, he knew you’d forgive him for anything he did to you.

taglist: @aft3rhrs

[deviantly-inspired]

Dreamling concept

I absolutely love the 600 year slow burn to friendship and then wildfire romance that's in dreamling fics (it's IMMENSELY satisfying) but also, please consider:

after they finally (finally) become friends after 600 years they just... take their time, with romance. They spend years getting to know each other, genuinely, as friends. They don't know eachother, not really, until Dream has held Hob while he sobs over a loved one dying AND when he's seen Hob in his PJs eating ice cream out the pint because his students have stressed him out to the point of needing either ice cream or violence and Hob likes to think he chooses violence less often these days. And Hob doesn't really know Dream until he's heard that awful laugh, some unholy mix between braying donkey and the sound of magma shifting beneath the earth's crust OR until he's watched Dream scowl at the tele because they got to the last episode of "Game of Thrones" and Dream isn't any happier then anyone else is about a lot of those decisions.

And they spend days and weeks and years of being in one another's pockets. Choosing to come together again and again for a pint or a season binge or a silent supporting friend when the weight of living is a little harder. They earn each other's trust, and because they're both a little dense and maybe a lot more walking-wounded, the moment that each of them realizes that the other trusts them is, well, it's something that makes life worth living, for both of them.

Hob realizes Dream trusts him first, something small, something like Hob going to guide Dream out of the way and Dream just goes without any sort of hesitation. Not mountains or meteors could move Dream if he didn't want to, but he just goes to where Hob guides him out of the way so Hob can take the carrots out of the oven. It's enough to humble a man, and Hob might have a little cry over it later, in private, but for now he grins and tells Dream he has to try the carrots with the lamb, he hasn't lived until he's done so.

And Dream is a little slower to realize, I think. Because Hob is pretty open and friendly, it's a bit harder for Dream who's not so good with interacting with people face-to-face, to tell that Hob doesn't really get close to very many people for all that plenty seem to like him. There's a few exceptions, but even they are kept at a distinct distance. And it's maybe something small, like a small party or gathering of some of Hob's friends and it's late and folks are tipsy and Hob just kinda... dozes off against Dream. And Dream doesn't think anything of it, Hob does this quite often but Hob's other friends are immediately very surprised: Hob doesn't sleep in front of others, they explain. A relic from the war/traumatic past/whatever Hob's used to tell them. No matter how late or how tired or even how drunk he is, Hob would rather drive/bus/walk home then sleep where others can see him. You must be pretty special, one of them says. He even fell asleep on you like that: I've never seen him look so relaxed.

And I think that there's something beautiful about the slow, inescapable draw of it. It's like two meteors from opposite ends of the galaxy that have been on a collision course for eons. They both have moments of realizing that they're falling in love. They know it's going to happen, and the tension is slow and sweet and lovely. And there's no need to rush, because there's trust there too. Sometimes they'll meet gazes and they'll know, both of them, in that moment that they're in love. That, someday, what's growing between them is going to be a bloom unlike anything the universe has ever seen before. And they'll smile together and continue watching bad tv dramas or swapping gossip or sharing their pints and maybe their shoulders brush and their touches linger a bit longer that night but it's okay. There's no need to rush. They have forever after all.

And I think also that Dream is just a dramatic romantic enough of a bastard to confess to Hob on June 7, 2089 and i think Hob is just enough of a dramatic romantic to tell Dream that he certainly took his time.

I'm not late, am I, Dream will ask.

Of course not, Hob will laugh, you're exactly on time. We've plenty of it.

And in the Dreaming there will be a quiet warm breeze and gentle sunshowers as in the deepest heart of the dreaming a flower never before seen blooms awake. And in the waking two friends close the gap between them and talk about how Sally next door really needs to stop over watering her flowers she's going to drown the poor things, really.

And then they'll have the absolute longest courtship and engagement of anyone in the universe. There will be entire religions that will rise and fall before they get married. Pantheons will come into existence and be utterly dumbfounded when they're invited to Dream of the Endless and Hob Gadling weddings because weren't they already married? They've been together since the beginning of it all.

It's be great.

[moonstruckme]

Hey love! How are you? I hope everything is well. Could I request a fluffy fic where the reader is sick and the marauders dote all over her? I have been sick the past couple of days with high fever and I am in desperate need to be taken care of lol. It doesnt matter if it is a poly!marauders or one of the boys. You can choose whichever you are in the mood for. Thanks in advance <3

Hi sweetheart, I'm good, thanks! I'm sorry to hear you're unwell :( Soooooo relatable, basically all I do when I'm sick is fantasize about someone taking care of me. I've been dying to write a roomate!James fic so I took this in that direction, hope that's okay. Thank you for requesting and I hope you feel better soon lovely!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

James listens as the door to your room opens and closes again, his unease mounting. 

You’re typically quiet, but lately you’ve been quieter than usual. Normally, James can count on at least seeing you in passing, or hearing your comings and goings signaled by the ridiculously harsh creaking of the front door. You sometimes play soft music while you cook, or have a friend over to chat in your room, or listen to a podcast while you get ready in the morning. 

For the last few days, there’s been none of that. If it weren’t for the occasional sound of your bedroom door and your key still on its hook in the entryway, James might think you’d moved out. 

He’s been walking past your door more often today, curious and a bit concerned at what’s keeping you confined in there. Though he knows he should be more ashamed of his eavesdropping, who else is responsible for making sure you’re okay if not your roommate? Anyway, if one day he finds you dead in your bedroom, “I was trying to mind my own business” isn’t going to make a very good excuse. 

When he goes by on his fourth unnecessary trip to the kitchen that afternoon, James is stopped by the startling noise of rapid-fire sneezes from behind your closed door. He’s knocking before he can second-guess himself. “Hey, you alright in there?”

There’s a great snuffling sound, and then, “Yeah, thanks,” your voice muffled. 

James hesitates. He’s not sure what your definition of “alright” might be, but he doesn’t feel right going about his day when you’ve locked yourself away and are acting so strange. “Can I come in?”

“No.” 

Well, that’s about as much confirmation that you’re not alright as he needs. “Are you decent?”

“I—yeah, but James—” 

He cracks the door, sticking his head in just as you dive beneath the covers of your bed. The floor is covered in tissues and wrappers of some sort, dirty dishes stacked on your desk. The room actually smells like sickness, likely a result of your being in here without opening a door or window for days. 

“James, please go.” Your voice is muffled by the covers, but now James can hear how congested it sounds. “I don’t want to get you sick.” 

“We’re roommates, love,” he says, taking a few tentative steps toward you. “Whatever you have, I’m gonna get it eventually.” 

You sneeze, your form tensing under the covers. “Not if I stay in here and you stay out there,” you insist nasally. 

James crouches by your bed, careful to avoid the tissues and what he now sees are cough drop wrappers. He tugs at your sheets until you release them, pulling them down to reveal your very flushed, very displeased face. James can’t help it; his eyebrows come together and his bottom lip juts out in pity, and your glare intensifies. 

Of course, it’s hard to appear very intimidating when your nose is twitching as you fight off another sneeze. After a moment you give in, pressing a tissue under your nose as your shoulders hitch. James winces in sympathy. 

“How long have you been like this?” he asks, taking advantage of your distraction to touch the back of his hand to your forehead. He’s not surprised to find it warm, but the intensity of the heat that meets his hand has him inhaling sharply. He presses his palm to your cheek to be sure, but it’s the same. “Merlin, you’re burning up.” 

“S’not that bad,” you say, though your next sniffle undermines the claim. 

James brushes a sweaty strand of hair from your forehead, worrying his lip. “Seems pretty bad, love. I think we ought to get you to a doctor. You shouldn’t be this warm.” 

You’re shaking your head before he’s finished speaking. “James, no. I want to stay here, at home.” You pull your blankets closer about your shoulders protectively. “I don’t want to sit in some freezing waiting room for hours just so they can tell me I have a cold.” 

James looks at you for a moment. Your clammy forehead, your poor pinkened nose. A tiny shiver takes you, making you burrow under the blankets until just your pleading eyes are peeking out at him, and that’s what softens him to your cause. “Alright,” he sighs, “but then you need to let me take care of you.”

“But—”

“I don’t care about getting sick,” he cuts you off, leveling you with his sternest look. It’s not very well-practiced, but it does the trick, and you settle down. “You let me help, or I’ll take you to someone who will.” 

You look resentful at being given an ultimatum, but nod. 

“Great.” James grins, his usual affability returned. “Now when was the last time you ate?”

From that moment on, you’re on strict bed rest. James cancels his plans with Remus and Sirius for that night, both of them sending wishes that you start to feel better soon, and a call to his mum grants him access to her recipe for “get well soup.” You don’t have an appetite, but James coaxes you into eating a few spoonfuls, and the warm sensation in your throat proves too soothing to let a silly thing like appetite prevent you from finishing the bowl. James cleans your room as you eat, ignoring your protests and embarrassed groaning as he puts your tissues and wrappers into a bin, placing it beside your bed for easier access when you need it. Then, he gives you a steaming bowl of water, making you sit with a towel over your head in your own personal sauna. You complain about feeling disgusting as your sinuses empty themselves out, but admit to breathing a bit easier once it’s done. Soon you’re feeling well enough to sit up, propping yourself up on a few pillows with a full stomach and slightly clearer nasal passages while James takes your temperature with the thermometer he’d run to get from the corner store. 

“Can’t believe we didn’t have one of these,” he mutters as he holds it in your ear. “One of us was bound to get ill eventually, it’s a miracle it’s taken this long.” You hum, your eyes trained on the inside of James’ forearm. It hasn’t escaped his notice that you’ve been looking at him more today than you ever have before; he supposes he owes that to the glaze of fever he can still detect in your eyes. James would never embarrass you by mentioning it, but the warmth of your gaze is nice, and he’s glad you’re not sharp enough at the moment to notice he’s as flushed as you. The thermometer beeps, and he pulls away, the tension in his brow relaxing a bit as he reads the number. “Well, it’s not nothing, but it seems lower than earlier.” He feels at your forehead again, nodding to himself. “Yeah, definitely lower.” James leaves his hand on your face a tenth of a second too long, and your eyes raise to his.

“That’s good,” you say, giving him a small smile. He returns it heartily. “I feel better, thanks.” 

“Yeah?” he asks, his smile falling away when you give a small sneeze and then wince. “You sure, love? Is your head still hurting you?”

“It’s not as bad,” you sniffle, grabbing a tissue to wipe your nose. “I really think all this is helping, James, thank you. Sorry you have to be around me when I’m so gross.” 

“You’re not gross, you’re lovely,” he says dismissively, moving the box of tissues closer to you when you reach for it again. “You’re incapable of being anything but lovely.” 

You actually snort, the sound loud and wet. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you say.” 

“I do say,” James insists. “And I’m the only one here not delirious with fever, so I think that makes mine the final opinion.” 

Your cheeks get impossibly pinker, almost matching the hue of your nose, but your smile rivals James’ own. “Well, anyway, thanks for taking care of me. I really appreciate it.” 

James doesn’t bother to pretend he’s feeling for a fever this time, placing a hand on your cheek and rubbing at the skin under your eye affectionately. He thinks his heart actually turns to mush when you lean into the touch. “No thanks necessary, sweetheart. Happy to do it any time.”

[sxcret-garden]

1st Desire ღ Testing Limits [M]

ღ Aspects of Desire series ღ Ateez Jongho x fem!reader ღ words: ~5.9k ღ genre: established relationship, college AU, fluff, some humor, slice of life, smut (dom!Jongho, sub!reader, parts of a very awkward kink negotiation turning into a slightly less awkward kink negotiation asdjflka, choking (reader receiving), unprotected sex, thigh riding, fingering, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms) ღ warnings: (mention of him running his hand through reader’s hair)

Desc.: You and your boyfriend decide to take a step towards a new chapter in your relationship when a secret desire of yours finally slips through. What you didn’t know until now is that he’s more experienced than you thought he was, and that you’re not the only one who’s been dying to spice up your sex life.

Author's note: aaaa I'm really nervous about how this series is gonna do, now that I'm finally putting out the first chapter!! I've been working on it for quite a while and it's become a very important project to me, so I hope y'all enjoy reading as much I enjoy writing it <3

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If someone asked you about the thing you appreciate the most about your boyfriend (at gunpoint, because there’s no way you could choose just one trait under normal circumstances), you’d say it’s his softness. A softness that’s apparent in his smile and in the way he treats people, yet only selected few get to see fully. You remember the first time you felt he was opening up to you a bit, granting you permission to see what’s going on inside, and how that was the moment you started falling in love with him. 

It’s the kindness in his words, behind the sound of his voice when he was reassuring you that he didn’t mind you calling him late at night and out of the blue because you needed someone to talk to, and he was the first person who came to mind. And the other way around, it’s the way he suddenly seemed very small as he crawled into his safe haven that has unmistakably become you when he went through a rough time. 

It’s how he talks to people in general, treating everyone with kindness first of all, because it’s among his core beliefs that everyone deserves to be faced with respect. And it’s the warmth that inevitably breaks through the cracks and to the outside when he smiles, laughs at some weird joke, or simply when he steps aside to make way for a complete stranger rushing past him in the crowd.

It’s how you feel when he holds you, wrapping his arms around you, the warmth of his body warming you up too, and you can finally let go of the tension you’ve been carrying within your bones all day. It’s the way he kisses you - you remember your first kiss that was merely lips brushing against each other in a feathery light touch, and the bright yet shy smile that took over his entire face right after, and you still recall how this too made you fall for him yet a little bit deeper. 

So why is it that you can’t but feel yourself bursting with excitement when he isn’t being soft at all?

It started quite early, in the blink of a moment and definitely not on purpose. You were out with some of his friends and some of your friends, and though most of them could sense there was something going on between the two of you, you weren’t official yet. And so it happened that one of his friends drunkenly, after visiting a bar not far from the place you had spent an entire afternoon together, tried to get close to you. It wasn’t to the point you would’ve felt uncomfortable - he started talking to you like one normally would when attempting to strike up a conversation, asking questions that made it clear he was interested in you. You didn’t find his way of chatting with you overbearing or anything, and you didn’t think much of it when he touched your arm seemingly mindlessly, but the second it striked you that just maybe this guy was glued to you a bit unusually much, Jongho stepped in. You can clearly recall the anger reflecting on his face, suddenly making an expression that didn’t show a single trace of the kindness you were used to. You don’t remember what exactly he said when he told the guy off, you barely even remember the shock apparent in your other friends’ hushed whispers as everyone seemed to agree that his reaction was a tad exaggerated. What you do recall was how it made your heart suddenly skip a beat. Back then you appointed this solely to your budding feelings for him and that you were crushing on him bad. However, with each time the memory came back to haunt you afterwards, it became more and more clear that there was something undeniably attractive about this side of him that is anything but soft. 

You also felt it when you were play fighting, like that time he momentarily raised his eyebrows at you almost mockingly, looking down at your smaller frame while holding an item just out of reach to mess with you as revenge, after you had managed to mildly piss him off. And even when that expression was wiped off his face mere seconds later as he handed you what you were desperately trying to reach with an apology accompanied by a sheepish smile, the pounding in your chest wouldn’t cease. 

And then there’s another situation where these complex desires you’re keeping hidden away mostly because you just don’t know how to bring them up to him keep taking over and clouding your mind, like a fire that’s only waiting to be ignited, in order to burn you up whole.

His lips brush against yours, parting from you after what can barely be considered a kiss. You feel his weight on top of you, he has your hands pinned against the bed to either side of your head, supporting himself like that as he rolls his hips into yours. Smooth and slow movements meant to satisfy you, but not for long, and yet the pleasure keeps building up in the pit of your stomach. 

“Fuck…” you mutter a curse, squeezing your eyes tightly shut in the race towards your high, and still you know he isn’t giving you everything yet. 

“You look so pretty like this.” The words slip past Jongho’s lips, and you sigh at the way they make you feel, only to take a glance at his face, seeing the desperate chase towards his high reflecting on his features as well. He lets go of one of your hands without changing the pace at which he thrusts into you, fingertips dancing down your arm until he reaches your jaw, loosely cupping your face. The touch sends an electric wave through your body, and you remember a distinct thought that keeps creeping into your mind time and time again these days. And now that he has brought his hand so close to where you’re aching to really have it, you can’t but put your own palm on top of it. If it hadn’t been for these coincidences, this, and the fact that just before he had pushed you down onto his bed to make love to you, this thought came to haunt you once again, you wouldn’t do what you’re about to do.

You wrap your fingers around his wrist, and without any signs of resistance, he lets you peel his hand off your cheek. However, when you place it on top of your throat instead, extending your neck almost instinctively when you feel his fingertips grazing your pulse, your boyfriend slows down, and eventually his movements come to a halt.

“Are you… are you sure about this?” As you hear him whisper those words, your first thought is that he must not like what you just did. But when you take a look at his face, and you see the way his eyes have undeniably darkened, his lips slightly parted as he tries to catch his breath, you feel like the complete opposite must be true.

“Yeah,” you mouth. “Been wanting to try this for so long…” Your confession causes yet another emotion to spark behind his gaze that’s suddenly so intent, and so much more intense than you’re used to. It takes him merely a moment to process your words, then he moves away from you with a muttered “wait”. Depriving you of both the touch against your throat that you’ve been longing for so much, and the sensation of him filling you up so perfectly leaves you feeling unexpectedly empty, but when he instead sits before you, taking you by the hands and pulling you towards him, you follow eagerly while something connects in your mind - he knows what he’s doing.

“Come here,” Jongho whispers, inviting you into his lap, his gaze finding your lips while he helps you move closer. “Ride me?” You can only nod once before he kisses you, allowing you to sink down on his length as he releases you and then reconnects your lips, and without hesitation you can feel him putting his hand around your nape again. He starts with bringing his palm up to your chest, moving it up unhurriedly, yet not letting you wait, and as soon as his thumb brushes across your throat, you break the kiss to throw your head back and you let out a soft moan. Your heart is racing like crazy from the simple motion alone, and he places his other hand onto your hip to guide you into a steady pace on top of him.

“You like that?” he asks, curiously, and yet you don’t miss the amused spark flaring up in his eyes when you glance at him.

“Yeah,” you reply honestly as your whole body heats up. It really does feel even better than you imagined it, like this one simple touch has engulfed you in flames, making you feel a kind of sensation you’ve never felt before. Your boyfriend moves his hand to the back of your head, entangling his fingers with the strands of your hair now, and you immediately furrow your brows in protest. It causes a smirk to appear on his lips, and the thumb of his hand resting on your hip finds its way to your clit, starting to give the sensitive bundle of nerves some attention.

“F-fuck…” you stutter, arms thrown around his shoulders and you let yourself fall forward in order to bury your face in the crook of his neck. Tutting at you, he brings his hand back to where you wanted it, pushing you away gently in order to be able to look at your face.

“Let me watch as you cum,” he mutters, his gaze taking in your features, and when you whimper in agreement he too lets out a breathy moan. Applying some more pressure to your clit, he never once takes his eyes off you as you’re racing towards your high - you can tell he’s enjoying this newfound power he has over you, and it’s getting him off too. 

Only a few more repetitions of your movements on top of him and your hips start to stutter, and when he moves his hand resting against your throat just a bit further up, blood rushes to your head at once. You know you won’t last much longer, and so you mewl,

“G-gonna cum…” A sigh of approval falls from his lips, before he answers with a strained “me too”, and then your high comes crashing down on you. You dig your nails into the skin on his shoulders as your body is shaken, and the convulsions around his cock buried inside of you have him letting out a broken groan, before you can feel him releasing deep in your cunt as well. 

As you gradually come down from your respective highs, you lie down side by side, and when your eyes meet for a moment you both know it’s about time you two had a conversation about this. However, for now it’s too late at night anyway, and with him nuzzling his nose into your temple and pulling you close, you decide that it could just as well wait until tomorrow. 

“So…” Your boyfriend joins his hands together in front of him, his right hand clasping his left fist, and the second you look at him, he looks away instinctively.

“Yeah…” you answer, knowing what he’s trying to say, but somehow it’s hard to break through the air of awkwardness that has settled around you the moment you both sat down in the living room area of his flat. With him having made himself comfortable on the sofa (and then subsequently tensed up as you entered his proximity), you decided to misuse the coffee table in front of it as a seating opportunity, for the sake of being able to sit across from him, figuring that might make the conversation easier.

It doesn’t. You both don’t know what to say, and this is by no means a one time thing. You recall other occasions where you both sat down to talk and then the beginning of the conversation was similarly difficult, just that usually it’s about a problem you have, hurt feelings, or anything else one of you felt needed to be talked out. And you know that usually one of you eventually breaks the ice - admittedly it’s him who gets the conversation going most of the time, a skill you very much value in your boyfriend - but this here is very different. Sure, sex has been brought up between you two before, you are actively having sex with each other after all, but somehow the feel of a talk about it has never seemed this serious.

“Is it… supposed to be this awkward?” This time it’s you who starts the first attempt at smoothing out the mental obstacles that are undoubtedly there. And it seems to be working, because as Jongho lets out a soft laugh at your remark, you can see some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

“Ah, no…” he says, but then he quickly adds, “I mean, it can be, I guess. The first time I had this conversation it started the same, so…” Ending on an implication, he monitors your reaction to his words closely for an entirely different reason. You know he broke up with his last girlfriend not too long before the two of you started getting closer, but he’s never talked about their sexual relationship with you before.

“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows, now feeling genuinely curious. “What do you mean?” Your boyfriend straightens his back as he rolls back his shoulders, and with you watching how his gaze wanders from one point to the other on the wall behind you, he gathers his thoughts and becomes serious.

“You know… when you put my hand around your throat, I liked that. I mean,” he lets out a short laugh, “I think you figured as much.”

“I could tell, yeah,” you confirm, and when he looks at you to continue talking, you feel yourself gulping. His gaze seems more intense than usual, despite his otherwise softened features - or are you imagining things and it’s just your own nerves? You have no idea.

“I did this kind of stuff with my ex too,” he says. “Like… not just the choking, you know? We did other things too, dipped our toes into testing out what it would be like if I have more power over the situation,...”

“Like… BDSM stuff?” The question comes out more awkwardly than it should’ve, and you can clearly sense that you have no idea how to approach the topic in conversation. Then again, it’s just another thing people do - no need to be so uptight about it, right?

“Yeah.” He’s averting his gaze again, shyness creeping onto his face, and somehow you find the contrast between his words and the air around him endearing.

“Like… with whips and stuff?” you continue asking, because you’ve never thought about him in that context, but somehow you can see the association making sense.

“Ah, no, we didn’t go that far,” Jongho explains, waving his hands in front of himself to underline his statement. “We did other things, but… ultimately what we wanted out of that play didn’t align.”

“Oh,” you gasp, wondering whether that was part of the reason why they broke up, but you don’t pry for now.

“So… what I’m trying to say is… I’ve been thinking about how to bring this up to you. But I didn’t want to… make you feel uncomfortable. Since we’ve been keeping things very vanilla so far, you know?”

“You wouldn’t have-” you immediately try to refute, but you stop yourself. Really, you don’t know if you would’ve been intimidated by your boyfriend’s desires. It probably depends on what kind of stuff he wants to do to you. Expanding on the image you brought up earlier in your head, you realize you’re not sure if you’d be okay with whips after all. “Actually, what are the things you want to do?” You decide to pose a question instead, understanding that you shouldn’t give him any definite answers about this without being 100% sure about them yourself. And though you expect him to have a reply right away, he hesitates.

“Maybe… we should take this slow,” he says, voicing his thoughts out loud, and you can tell he really is afraid of scaring you off. So you reach out across the gap in between your knees, until your hands are resting on top of his.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “Let’s talk about it, and I tell you if I’m okay with the things you want.”

“Okay,” he agrees eventually, but then sinks into thought once again.

“What is it?” you chuckle as he doesn’t speak. “You’re taking this very seriously.” Your remark tears him out of his thoughts, and the complicated expression on his face tells you he isn’t entirely sure how to take your words. “I mean, isn’t it about fun most of all?” you add, and now he furrows his brows.

“It’s not that it’s not about fun, just… you need to be careful about these things. Even with what we did last time, if I put my hand around your throat the wrong way or apply too much pressure I can seriously hurt you. And I don’t want that.” Not just from the content of his speech, but also from the way he looks at you you can tell that there’s some very logical reasons behind his caution, and it causes you to think that maybe you’re not taking this seriously enough.

“You’re right, I think I get it now,” you answer, lowering your head apologetically.

“So maybe we should start with the things I’ve done before,” your partner continues. “That way we can test the waters, and I can make sure I know what I’m doing and can ensure your safety.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

“So… are you okay with the kind of dynamic where I take on a more dominant role?” he follows up with a question, and you swallow thickly at all the associations popping up in your head. Even just the thought of you submitting to him has your temperature rising, and so you nod.

“Yes, I would like that.”

You talk about a few things, mostly kinks and practices he brings up, and as he’s taking his time discussing everything, repeatedly reminding you that if you’re unsure about something you can just say no and bring it up at a later point if you happen to get curious about it again, you’re beginning to develop an entirely new understanding of boundaries. It’s like everyone talks about them and their importance, yet it’s hard to figure out how to have a conversation about them, except for the “say no if you don’t want something” part. And even that’s tricky, because sometimes people simply don’t respect a no.

You feel like that’s not the case here at all, and so your conversation becomes yet another reason for why you feel you can trust him so much. And at the same time you come to understand that he too needs to be able to trust you, if you’re going to try getting more adventurous in the bedroom.

“Let’s use the color system, just in case,” he suggests. “Have you heard of it?”

“Like ‘green’ for ‘keep going’, ‘red’ for ‘stop’ and ‘yellow’ for…”

“For ‘slow down’ or… as a sign you’re getting close to your limits,” he finishes the sentence for you. “Even if we’re just going to try one thing at a time, I’d like to use that to check in with you, just in case.” You agree with his suggestion, and at the same time you notice how you’re much more comfortable than at the beginning of the conversation. No trace of awkwardness left. Instead, you feel yourself getting excited at all the new opportunities opening themselves up to you at once. You’ve been fantasizing about spicing up your sex life for a while now, and having finally made that first step towards it affects you in more ways than one.

“So…” you mutter as you lean in, your hands reaching for his and fitting into them very naturally. “Wanna get right to it?” You ask, your lips merely an inch away from his, but Jongho just laughs as he leans back.

“Y/N, isn’t it about time you leave for your evening class?” Immediately, a pout forms on your lips, and you’re more than unhappy about him bursting your bubble like that.

“It’s not a class, it’s just a meet-up for a project…” you refute, though you shouldn’t skip that either. Your boyfriend gives you an endearing look, his gums showing as he shoots you a smile and he extends his arm to run his fingers through your hair.

“Go to that meet-up, Y/N,” he says, and his expression changes ever so slightly as he adds, “And when you’re back, we can see if there’s a way I can reward you for your hard work.” You can undeniably feel the shift in energy from his last words, the way you suddenly feel like you’re smaller than him, like he’s been elevated to standing just a step above you. It’s not like you haven’t felt this air of dominance radiating off of him ever before, but after your conversation just now it has been put into an entirely new context, and it causes yet another spark of excitement to sear through you. And so all you can do is nod and get up to get ready for your meeting.

When the sun has long set and you get back home, your boyfriend is already awaiting you, as promised. To the question about whether you have eaten dinner yet, you answer no, and to your dismay he makes you wait for the thing you’re really craving just a bit longer.

“You should eat,” he says, hand brushing against your back as he notices you sitting down in front of some leftovers with a disappointed expression on your face that you just can’t hide, and he adds with an amused chuckle, “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you this impatient.” You say nothing, and when you continue sulking it just makes him laugh some more. You know he’s being caring - and definitely reasonable - when he makes you do your evening routine too after that, but deep inside you really do wonder how he can bear the wait that you’re very much already tired of. And then finally you’re moving towards the bedroom, and if you’re not mistaken you can finally see a hint of impatience in the way he watches you walk up to him.

You take a step forward, to where he’s sitting at the edge of the bed and you place your hands on his shoulders, fingers playing with the collar of his pajamas. His hands find purchase on your waist, pulling you in closer yet, until your shins hit the wooden bedframe, and then his palms wander south to your hips. 

“I’ve made you wait too long, hm?” he mutters. You say nothing, instead running your fingers through his hair, and your boyfriend briefly closes his eyes as he leans into your touch. You move towards him, bowing down in order to press a kiss onto his lips, and when your fingers begin fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, you reply with a chuckle,

“You did.” Watching you as you finish undoing the button-up shirt, he allows you to sit in his lap to straddle him once you’re done, and without hesitation you connect your lips to his. You can feel him sigh into your kiss as your fingertips come in contact with his stomach, and you move your palm all the way up in order to place it at the back of his neck. His tongue swiping across your bottom lip, you let him deepen the kiss, and when you play with the short strands at the back of his head he becomes just a little more passionate in how he kisses you. Effortlessly, he takes the lead from you, and when you finally part you’re more breathless than he is. One of his palms now placed at the small of your back, he pulls you closer yet, applying some pressure to make you roll your hips on top of him. 

“That’s right,” he mutters, your faces mere inches apart, and you let out a shaky breath at the friction of your clothed cunt rubbing against his leg. He brings his free hand up to cup your cheek, gaze dropping down to your lips, but contrary to your expectation, he doesn’t kiss you. “Keep going,” he encourages you, and so you fall into a steady rhythm, a wave of heat rushing to your core with every repetition of your movements. “Feels good?” he asks and you nod.

“Yeah…” His gaze burns like fire as he watches you closely, making sure he doesn’t miss a single change of expression on your face.

“So, what’s your color?”

“Green…” you respond without having to think about it much, feeling the pleasure slowly building up. “You could tell though, right?” you add.

“Yeah.” Jongho smiles at you, letting his hands travel to the hem of your shirt and pulling it up. You let go of his shoulders for a moment to let him peel it off you, before he flings it somewhere to the ground and you throw your arms around his neck again. “Just thought I could bring it up once,” he then adds, and you let him hear a soft chuckle. 

“You don’t have to be that careful,” you whisper. To be quite honest, you adore him for taking your safety so seriously, way more seriously than you think is necessary - because as for you there’s no way you’d feel uncomfortable about something as tame as this, but you appreciate his caution nonetheless.

A curse falls from your lips as you’re able to feel your orgasm gradually building up somewhere in the depths of your stomach, and when you feel him running his hands up your torso once more, a shiver runs down your spine. He’s letting his touch come close to your throat, but not quite far enough, and yet you lean your head back instinctively, to give him access. You don’t miss the amused huff he lets out at your reaction, and instead of his fingers, you can now feel his lips attached to your skin there. Supporting you with his palm against your back, he kisses his way up along your pulse, the sensation making you moan, and when he lets his teeth graze your skin just below your ear your head starts to spin. Your hips stutter at the sensations overwhelming you, and he’s quick to reach for your waist to hold you down, making you halt your movements. He scatters kisses along your jaw before calling your name to make you look at him, and when you do, he brushes his lips against yours. Deepening the kiss, he simultaneously slips his hand past the hem of your pants, and when he presses his fingertips against your folds through your soaked underwear, you can feel him grinning into the kiss.

“Already made a mess of yourself, hm?” You shudder at his words, and at the tone of his voice that’s somehow different from how he usually talks to you in this kind of situation. You’re used to him speaking softly as he quite literally makes love to you, but this is different. 

Everything about it is different, right from the moment he invited you to sit on his lap. So this is what he was talking about, what you were so curious about, and now that you’re getting a taste of this side of your boyfriend, the only thing you know is that you want more.

“Y-yeah,” you can only whimper an answer, and you suck in a sharp breath when he pushes aside your soiled panties in order to touch you directly. He watches again, the look in his eyes making you feel small and helpless - but not in a bad way. It’s like you want him to take control of you, to do with you whatever he pleases - you feel yourself submitting to him. 

A finger pushed inside your wet pussy has you moaning, a second finger makes you curse and fall forward, attempting to bury your face in the crook of his neck, but he clicks his tongue and pushes you back into an upright position with his palm against your chest. 

“I want to watch,” Jongho says, it’s almost a whisper, the energy behind his words is very different from the last time this exact scenario played out, and his words ring in your ears loudly, only serving to amplify the pleasure his touches send through your body. Bucking your hips into his hand to see whether he would allow you to move, you become aware of the bulge in his pants, and the urge to touch him overcomes you.

“Can I…?” You ask, looking down on him and then back into his face, and his answer is short and clear.

“No.” He curls his fingers that are buried in your cunt, pulling them out only to thrust them back in, and when he finds that perfect spot inside you, you arch your back into his touch, your nails digging into the fabric covering his shoulders.

“Right there… don’t stop…” you beg, eyes shut tightly, as he continues fingering you at an unhurried pace. You roll your hips into his hand, your sensitive bud grazing his palm for some friction with every movement, and you can now undeniably feel your high approaching at lightning speed. 

“Look at me, Y/N,” he says, and your name spoken in this tone you’ve never heard from him alone would’ve almost sent you over the edge. “You look so pretty when you cum. But…” The broken whine you let out when he removes his hand from your core as you shudder causes a hint of delight to tug at the corners of his mouth. “You’re gonna look even prettier when you cum with my hand around your throat.”

“Why…” is all you can whimper at his sudden action, not having fully registered the meaning of his last words yet. Then he pushes you off his lap and back onto your feet.

“Take your clothes off for me,” he orders, his tone softening, yet his sharp gaze won’t leave you. You do as told, and he as well rids himself of his pajamas, before he makes you lie down flat and comfortably in the middle of the bed. He wastes no time to get on top of you, scattering a trail of impatient kisses from your sternum up to your mouth. His lips feel rougher against yours now, his tongue quick to part them and to find yours as your hands fly to his back, nails digging into his bare skin. Up until now he’s usually taken his time with you, no surprising movements at all, and so you understandably gasp in surprise when now he unexpectedly breaks the kiss to sit up, reaching for your thighs and bringing them up. Throwing your legs over his shoulders, he leans in closer, and you mewl when he rolls his hips against yours once, his cock grazing your folds and clit.

“That feel okay?” he asks, and you nod immediately, clenching around thin air as you feel yourself growing more and more impatient. 

“I’m okay,” you reply, desperately. “More than okay.” His hands resting on the underside of your thighs as he presses them into the sheets to your sides, he pushes up into you, making you cry out from the force behind his thrust. 

“Shit…” you curse at the impact.

“And that?” he asks. “How’s-”

“Please just keep going, please…” you interrupt him, and contrary to your plea, he does nothing but look down at your state with a big smirk on his face. He has you exactly where he wants you, you know that now, and to be honest? You can only wonder why you haven’t started having rougher sex like this earlier. “Please…” you whimper again.

“What do you want?” Jongho asks, placing one of his palms onto your stomach. “Want me to ruin you?”

“Y-yes please,” you whine. He moves his hand up a bit, slowly, but not too slow, and when he finally snakes his fingers around your throat, you let out an uncontrolled moan.

“Like this?” he asks, and at this point you’re sure he’s only dragging this out to provoke you for the fun of it. And yet, with his hand around your neck like this you don’t have the strength in you to fight back or to do anything but beg.

“Y-yes… baby please…” 

“Please what?”

“Please ruin me…” This seemingly being the answer he wanted to hear, he now starts thrusting into you, slowly at first. But his smooth motions soon turn into something rougher, something led not by self-control, but by his own lust, maybe his need for release, maybe his desire to see with his own eyes what he can do to you like this. And then there’s his hand around your throat, his touch feeling hot against your skin, even though it’s only resting there, not applying any pressure whatsoever. And still you find yourself unable to do anything but moan along with the pace he’s pounding into you, his weight pressing your body into the mattress. Groans fall from his lips as well, and you can feel a dull pain as he digs his nails into the flesh on your thigh. 

“‘M coming… close…” you mewl, and as if that was his cue, you feel his grip around your neck becoming just a bit tighter, and his fingertips press down onto your pulse. Your head starts to spin, your mouth falling open, one broken moan after the other coming out, and mere moments later your high crashes down on you. Your body shakes violently and you feel your boyfriend’s hand being retracted from your throat, and the second he does you moan his name, clenching around his length that’s thrusting in and out of you even faster now. It doesn’t take long until he as well finds his release, a hissed curse falling from his lips as his short hair falls into his face, covering his expression as he too is shaken from the pleasure.

He pulls out of you, reaching for the tissues he’s keeping beside his bed to help clean you up before doing the same for himself and then he thoroughly inspects your throat, making sure he didn’t accidentally apply too much pressure or leave a mark.

“Are you okay?” he asks and you nod. “No pain anywhere?”

“No,” you answer, giving him a tired smile, and then you sit up. “Actually… I really enjoyed that.” For some reason you feel shy as you speak those words, and he immediately picks up on your state of mind, reaching out to cup your face and run his thumb across your cheek in a reassuring motion.

“That’s good.”

“And you? Did you… enjoy it?” And now suddenly he looks away somewhat shyly as well, and for a second there it’s hard to imagine this is the same person who’s been fucking you like that just a hot minute ago.

“I did,” your boyfriend answers. 

“Then let’s try out more,” you suggest, but then you rephrase your words to make them come out sounding as sure of yourself as you are. “I want to know more.”

[the-crimson]

I need everyone to understand that q!Tubbo, q!Bbh and q!Aypierre spent seven hours fighting a psychological war today and they lost… but it prevented both teams from dying and no one will ever know.

(All talk about character not ccs etc etc)

Tubbo wasn’t there during the egg battle so he doesn’t feel the betrayal and humiliation that the other two do. He looks at green team and sees his friends. People he cares about. He doesn’t want them to lose especially not like this! He’d made up his mind the moment he learned of the event. No one was going to die.

Aypierre looked at green team and saw the snakes who broke their promise to tie the previous challenge. Why would they agree to tie this time when they’ve already proven to be untrustworthy? They betrayed him. They humiliated him and his entire team. This was his opportunity for revenge. Why shouldn’t blue team take it?

Bbh is much more in the middle. He agreed with the premise of a tie because he wanted to give green a fighting chance. He had a gut feeling it wasn’t going to work but he was willing to try. However, he didn’t trust green either. The whole time he was paranoid about green logging in at the last minute to scrounge together the quests to beat them. He was constantly reminding the group to stay together so they couldn’t be killed in case green logged in. He did not trust green to keep to the deal but he was willing to try.

For the first five or so hours of the streams the three had too many conversations to count where Aypierre would try to convince them to just say fuck it and turn in their tasks. To break the tie and be done with it! But each time bbh and Tubbo manage to hold him back and keep to the plan. It was only when bbh and Aypierre were in green’s secret base standing in front of green’s merchant that Aypierre finally caved and turned in his missions.

This was one battle lost. The next was Aypierre and Tubbo pulling bbh in two different directions and Tubbo choosing to give Green the quest items to rebalance the score. Two different battles that culminated in the single decisive moment of bbh claiming all of his missions. But what happened leading up to that moment? Chaos.

Various members of green team were logging in and out for the next two hours which only fueled bbh’s paranoia even more. Aypierre was trying to convince him to just claim the tasks the games already over! While Tubbo was confident they could still tie the score. It all went to shit in the last fifteen minutes.

Bbh and Aypierre discovered the quest items were gonna from the chest and Tubbo was lying to them about where he was. Tubbo made an executive decision to try and balance the score knowing the other two were too on the edge and chaotic at the moment. They’d discussed potentially giving green some items to tie the score but this was never agreed to and bbh and Aypierre had no idea what Tubbo was giving them.

They arrive at the center and the score starts changing and bbh starts panicking. Aypierre calls Tubbo a traitor for going behind their back and bbh is trying to mediate and figure out what’s going on - what did Tubbo do? Tubbo doesn’t explain fully so bbh assumes he gave both ElQuackity and Roier the quest items. Then Mouse logs in and bbh’s paranoia goes into overdrive. Did green have the items stockpiled and ready for Mouse to turn them in to sweep the victory last second? It’s happened twice before so it’s not out of the question. Bbh looked at the being Coco that acted so much like his son and asked, and it told him to cash in the quests. So he did.

At this point, everything was pure adrenaline. All bbh was thinking was save Dapper. “Run over anyone you need to to win”. If it ended as a tie or if blue won, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was he could not LOSE.

All three of blue fought so incredibly hard today it’s incredible. I wouldn’t be surprised if the ccs aren’t completely emotionally exhausted. Aypierre gave into his revenge after fighting it for nearly five hours straight. Bbh gave into his paranoia after fighting it for SEVEN HOURS straight. Tubbo gave into his need to do the right thing at any costs by going behind his team’s back which lead to the miscommunication that lead to that pivotal moment.

Blue failed today. They fought an internal war for seven hours and they lost at the very last moment. But in so doing, they saved their entire team. And they’ll never know. And no one will ever know. They will continue being the villains in this story even though no one on red or green knows what they went thought mentally today. None of them understand that it took seven hours of constant stress for them to break when they could have cashed the quests and secured victory within an hour.

In the end, Aypierre said it best “Either we win a fraud or die a villain.”

[dualdeixis]

[Image description: Digital drawings of two original characters in black and white. The Ferrier wears a black, wide-brimmed hat; a shirt with puffy sleeves and an embroidered collar, cuffs, and hem; a vest with geometric patterns; a black, sleeveless overcoat with two lighter stripes near the hem; loose pants; and black sandals. They appear to have short, messy black hair, and their hat casts a shadow over their eyes.

The Sacrifice's clothes are almost entirely white and intricately embroidered. They wear a loose, long-sleeved shirt; a cropped and wide-collared vest which is buttoned together; dimije (voluminous pants which are gathered at the ankle); a cap with coins sewn into the sides; a very long veil which ends in tassels and is pinned to the cap; a necklace of coins; a belt of large metallic roundels; and black shoes. They have long, curly black hair and several moles on their face.

In the first drawing, the Ferrier stands while wringing their hands with an extremely flat expression. The Sacrifice stands behind them and carries a bag, looking off to the side with a small smile.

Next is a comic featuring the two of them, with all of the speech bubbles being cut out from Discord screenshots. There are full descriptions of all of the pages under the cut. End image description.]

first drawing based on this painting of a peasant and nun going to the market by amedeo preziosi; comic based on a convo between me and @wildcatfourteen that reads uncannily like our ocs LOL. happy birthday my friend <33

[Image description: Page one. The Ferrier has a small smirk as they point to an image which reads, "some of y'all would melt down in this situation. ONE HAS GOT TO GO: THE EYE, THE FORMLESS, THE ECSTATIC, THE SUN, THE WOUND, THE EGG." The Sacrifice replies with a carefree smile, "how can you choose ?? are they not all as g_d ordained ??" The next panel shows that the two are sitting on opposite sides of a rowboat, which is stopped at the bank of a river going through a forest. The Sacrifice says, "i mean i guess if youre talking like which motifs i personally like to use in my hymns … i dont do much with the egg so that one" The Ferrier frowns and says, "I don't know if I can forgive u for saying that. Egg… U GET RID OF EGG?" The Sacrifice: "WHICH ONE WOULD U GET RID OF??" The Ferrier: "The ecstatic"

Page two. The Sacrifice stares in astonished silence for a moment, and then says with a cartoony vein popping from their cheek, "I think ur saying that on purpose to piss me off. to get back at me for saying ehg. Why do u hold such hate in your heart" The Ferrier closes their eyes and says nonchalantly, "I'm sorry it's not out of hate." They look off to the side and mutter, "Except u started this with ur egg slander" The Sacrifice glares at them with dismay and says, "THE HATE IN YOUR HEART IS OVERTAKING YOU" The Ferrier glares back, smiling through gritted teeth, and replies, "LOOK IN THR MIRROR"

Page three. The Ferrier pinches the bridge of their nose and says, "I can't believe this is what's causing an argument" The Sacrifice puts their hands on their hips and snaps, "I WASNT EVEN SLANDERING EGGS? IM JUST SAYING PERSONALLY IF YOU FORCED ME? I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST EGGS I EAT THEM ALL THE TIME" The Ferrier: "ITS NOT ABOUT EATINF THEM EVEN THO THEY ARE DELICIOUS AND VERSATILE." They roll their eyes and add, "Sorry for wanting to shatter my shell and be birthed anew" The Sacrifice clasps their hands together with a smile, their eyes hidden by their speech bubble, and says, "see thats the thing for me there is no rebirth only resurrection . its not dying and being birthed anew its about dying and then undying . coming back from death with none of the catharsis of newness just being forced to hold on to the old and what you once were ." The Ferrier pulls their hat down over their eyes and argues, "You say that and yet that is the whole point there is never any real birth of newness but just the illusion of it and the necessity to keep that illusion bc there is no coming back anew but taking whatever dead pieces u have and reconstructing some choppy form of a fresh creature"

Page four. The two sit in silence for a moment. Then the Ferrier says matter-of-factly, "Just like how ecstatic state is fake" The Sacrifice glares at them and says, "how DARE you say ecstatic state is fake ." The background turns black as the Ferrier's eyes go wide, gazing dramatically down at the viewer. They thunder, "ITS TEMPORARY" The Sacrifice, also on a black background, holds their palms up with an ecstatic grin. One of their eyes is teary and a bright halo flashes around their head. They answer, "AS ARE ALL THINGS."

Page five. The Ferrier, looking irritated with a cartoony vein popping from their temple, says, "fine. Fine whatever." They turn away with gritted teeth. "I'm gonna go in my egg shell and not come out EVER !!!!" The Sacrifice smiles with a thumbs up and says, "ok you do that im gonna be out here achieving union with the Beloved 👍" The Ferrier turns as far away from the Sacrifice as they can and crosses their arms. "U go do that. Hmph!" The Sacrifice does the same. "HMPH -_-" A school of black fish swims through the river. A line at the bottom of the panel reads, "THEY STAYED LIKE THIS FOR THE NEXT 24 HOURS." End image description.]

[enden-agolor]

weirdly specific idea but thoughts on jesskas angst straight after access denied (probably before a journeys end aswell) if jesse chose to save petra first instead of lukas...

I think about this… all the time…..

This is kinda long so uhh

It’s kind of idk… Insane?? That right after defeating PAMA, Jesse and his friends get absolutely no break time in between returning with Harper to the portal hallway, and down to the spleef match. Like I can imagine they were all already so exhausted, and for them to get sent into that with absolutely no warning?? I feel as though that definitely played a part in why Lukas, Petra, and Ivor (depending on who you choose) end up losing and being sent to the Nether mines.

But the reason I mention this is both Lukas and Petra have the opportunity to have two near death experiences in one single day. The amount of anguish either of them must be going through? I can’t imagine. I feel like Petra is more the person to kind of suck it up and deal with it on her own terms, keeping those feelings hidden, but Lukas has more trouble withholding his emotions. I imagine him constantly rubbing at the back of his head where he was chipped, messing with the spot the chip was implanted and feeling the grotesque hole it leaves in his scalp, and all the dried blood along with it. He, Petra, and everyone else in the Crown Mesa have to deal with this.

Okay my bad I’m realizing now I’m kind of rambling. But hear me out.

I like to imagine that when Jesse rescues Lukas and Petra (I always pick to save Ivor just for that scene where Lukas laughs at him in his underwear) and heading into the dorms, each room has like two beds, so each room gets two people. And uhm because I am smart and cool I say Jesse and Lukas get assigned a room together and Ivor and Petra get theirs together (which they both equally complain about but that changes nothing).

After everyone gets to their rooms and night falls, the entire place quiets down as all the contestants eventually fall asleep but Lukas is still very much wide awake, sitting up in his bed, worried about his journal, worried about the future, and replaying every traumatic event that unfolded as the day gradually progressed. That, and the pain in the back of his head is unbearable. Part of him is relieved he’s not competing, but another part of him feels tremendously guilty and disappointed in himself for losing the match.

Jesse, exhausted beyond belief, but kept awake by the visions of his friends dying, that, and the memories of his fight against PAMA, and seeing Lukas in such a moment of peril as he’s rapidly losing his grip on Jesse, while simultaneously trying to fight PAMA. Well, it keeps a guy up, no matter how tired he is. And tossing and turning in his bed, he eventually turns over and sees Lukas still awake, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head. Maybe it’s completely dark in the room, aside from the nearby window that a rift of moonlight casts through, lighting Lukas up just enough so Jesse can see he’s awake.

Jesse sitting up and asking Lukas if he’s okay, and how come he’s not asleep yet, Lukas can only really respond with a shrug and shake of his head. Just says to Jesse that he can’t sleep, and that’s when Jesse sits up fully and kinda shifts on the bed, letting his legs dangle off the side as he sits up fully, giving Lukas his full attention.

Long story short, Jesse will pry for more, then proceed to ask Lukas how he’s feeling after everything. Lukas hesitant, but trusting, spills his emotions about PAMA, about the ache in his head, about his frustrations with Harper and the old builders, and how guilty he feels about spleef. I feel like he’d definitely begin to crack under the pressure of finally saying everything out loud, utterly distraught as he begins to choke up, and that’s when Jesse stands up and crosses the room, settling down on Lukas’ bed and well, tries to match the emotions Lukas is feeling by confessing all of his own worries, and the turmoil he’s facing from the past, and what’s to come in the future.

Most of all though, he tells Lukas how thankful and relieved he is that Lukas is safe. And that’s when Jesse’s voice really begins to shake is when he talks about how he’d thought he’d lost Lukas twice in one day, and how terrifying each moment felt for him. Lukas by this point has gone silent, listening, shocked speechless by the depth and emotion Jesse’s words carry. Like the way he speaks about Lukas sounds as though he were someone meant dearly to Jesse. Like he was surprised to see how much Jesse cared when he begged for Lukas to be okay after he was unchipped and laying supposedly lifeless, and to see that kind of passion, so soon after, now alone… just the two of them.

Idk man Lukas is feeling a bit flattered. And kinda getting that butterfly feeling which he’d usually experience around Jesse every so often, but as of recently the feeling numbed do to the stress of the current situation. But now that feeling kicks back in full swing, and it is a lot.

It’s when Jesse says, “I don’t ever want to lose you.” Is when Lukas finally settles on an idea brewing in his mind.

I’ve always hc Lukas as someone who copes through trauma with touch and affection, or just nice feelings in general, so him nervously responding with “You won’t,” and hesitation when Jesse smiles tiredly back at him, slowly finding the confidence with “uhm… Jesse? If you wouldn’t mind,” and Lukas scoots over a little bit, patting the spot in bed next to him. A once in a life time opportunity.

Jesse is shook, also blushing like an idiot because wow Lukas is ethereal in this lighting, and he looks gorgeous, even with those tear stained cheeks of his. Jesse is kind of dumb though, specifically with this sort of thing so he just replies with an “uhm.. s-sure, Lukas.” And scoots over, settling in beside Lukas but on top of the covers. Lukas smiles at how dense Jesse is, and says something like “under the covers, Jesse.” And Jesse’s like “o-oh okay.” Still blushing, embarrassed like an idiot. Also Jesse is like. Big. He is a big guy so he takes up a significant amount of space in the bed. Also he’s like a space heater, and with the cold, snowy weather outside, and complete lack of an ac (it’s minecraft), Lukas is naturally drawn to that warmth, snuggling up to Jesse who is just kind of laying there, tense and unmoving, heart pounding. And oh god Lukas is wrapping his arms around his torso and settling his head right between his thick bicep and chest.

Then… only then can they fall asleep ☝️ Also this moment empowers Jesse like never before, and he wakes up the next day in a cuddly embrace, feeling every one of his hearts completely rejuvenated.

What an awesome thing that totally happens in canon because Enden says so.

[gemini-sensei]

My Best Friend, Really? | Jaime Reyes x Chubby!Reader

CW: spoilers for the movie, secret relationship, sneaking around, steamy but no smut. Request: What abt the reader being bsfs with Milagro and secretly dating Jaime? Tags: @elisiassideb1tch A/N: I love this but I'm not sure I did it justice, so I hope you all enjoy it <3

The Reyes home was familiar and homey everytime Reader came over, even after it was destroyed and needed a lot of repair. There was never a dull moment in that home, so of course Reader was there to help clean up and start over. No matter what, she'd always be there for her best friend Milagro.

It didn't hurt that Milagro's brother Jaime was smoking hot.

Reader was around so much, she knew about Jaime's secret. She was there to witness the Scarab choose him and it freaked her out. Everything that happened after - with Victoria Kord and Mr. Reyes dying - she saw them through it. She was there for Milagro and the whole Reyes family. She even helped save him.

It was also the even that pushed them together.

After everything, when they had a moment alone, Jaime approached her...

"Reader," he said, voice trailing off as he looked for the right words to say. "I know this has been a lot for you, trust me I know. But I'm glad you were there with my family, I mean, you're practically a part of my family."

"That's sweet," Reader had said, smiling. For a moment, it hurt. She thought he saw her as another younger sister, not something more. Her little crush on his was, well, crushed. But only for a moment. "Thanks for thinking of me that way."

"No, shit," he let out and licked his lips. "That's not what I meant."

"So I'm not like family?"

"You are but you're not."

"Jaime, you're not making any sense..."

"I'm sorry, this is coming out all wrong and- whoa!"

The Scarab, Khaji Da as Reader had come to know it, had used its connection to Jaime to push him into her. It's arms came out to brace against the wall, protecting him as always but effectively pinning Reader to the wall behind her. She stared up at him as he stammered an apology, but she wasn't listening very well. All she heard were the implications Khaji was trying to tell her. So, she took a leap of faith:

"Just kiss me already."

He smiled and did just that.

And while the beginning of their relationship was beautiful and bloomed into something fantastic and wonderful, there was one thing keeping them from sharing it with the rest of the world: Milagro.

She was rather vocal about her brother "staying out of their business" when Reader came over to hang out. When they were young, they'd go to her room and spend time trying new makeup styles to match their clothes, doing each other's nails as they talked about school and movies and whatever was happening in their lives. Jaime was never invited to such things. Whenever Reader took too long getting a drink from the fridge, it was because Jaime stopped her and Milagro would come in to drag her away.

"Go make your own friends," she'd say and stick her tongue out at him.

As they got older, the attraction between Jaime and Reader became too much to deny and they didn't try to stop it. They only hide it from his sister.

But as Reader walked up to the Reyes house, she realized how hard that becoming. When she sat with Milagro in the living room, watching TV, she realized how badly she wanted Jaime on her other side. The two laughed at the TV and made fun of the characters when they made dumb decisions, but deep down Reader wasn't having as much fun. She got too easily distracted when Jaime walked through the room.

Milagro caught her and groaned, rolling her eyes back in a dramatic eye roll. "You're not even paying attentions anymore."

"Sorry," Reader said and turned her attention to her best friend. She smiled even though he eyes wanted to cut back to Jaime. "Maybe we should watch something else? Or go out? We could go to the mall and make fun of all the poorly dressed mannequins."

Milagro hummed, giving her friend a strange look. Jaime walked through again and sparred Reader a look, smiling her way, making Milagro sigh. "Yeah, let's go. Are you driving?"

"You know it," Reader giggled.

That was only the beginning of everything coming undone.

As time passed, Milagro noticed her brother wearing stupid goofy grins whenever he was texting on his phone. He was out a little more than usual, aside from being the great hero Blue Beetle - though he definitely tried to use that as an excuse sometimes. She was keen on taking note of his avoiding questions about a girlfriend from their mother and nana. He was hiding a partner, Milagro just knew it, not that she could prove it though.

She tried to tease him for it but he brushed her off, saying things like "If I had a girlfriend, would you think I'd bring her around?" to which she'd say that if he did, she'd just tell his girlfriend all the embarrassing secrets she has on him. He'd rebuttal with "Another reason not to bring a girl here," with a heavy sigh.

One day, when Milagro was out, Jaime invited Reader over. They had the house to themselves as the rest of his family had gone shopping. They didn't have a lot of time, but it was enough for the two of them. They lay on his bed, entangled in each other as their lips melded together. Reader pushed her fingers into Jaime's soft hair and smiled into the kiss, almost breaking it. He nipped at her lower lip, making her moan.

Things were growing hot and Jaime pinned Reader to the mattress, straddling her hips to keep her down. He pulled away and muttered, "You're so beautiful, mi amor."

She smiled as he sat up on his knees and pulled his shirt off. Her hands wandered his slender waist and up to his toned muscles. He was too hot, burning her up just because she was looking at him.

"It should be illegal to be this hot," she told him.

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her once more. His hands slid up her waist and squeezed her sides, making her moan and giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. One of her hands went back into his hair, curling her fingers into the thick locks and tugging lightly. He moaned loudly, which would make her giggle if it weren't for his tongue exploring ever crevice of her mouth.

She gently bucked her hips up to further tease him, feeling his hard-on poke her belly. He groaned again and she knew she had him right where she wanted him, making noise and nearly whimpering for her, so she continued the motion.

He pulled away when it became too much. "Oh fuck, Reader, you're gonna-"

The door swung open with a lough exclamation of "Aha!" followed by a shocked "Oh my God!"

The couple turned to the bedroom door, where Milagro stood under its archway with wide eyes. They didn't say anything, shocked and embarrassed to have been caught like this.

They knew she was closing in on them, at least on her brother and his mysterious girlfriend. However, they had not yet figured out a way to tell her about them. Now they didn't have to worry about telling her at all, but this was exponentially worse than what they thought it could have been.

"My best friend, really?" Milagro asked, staring her brother down. Then she turned her attention to Reader. "My brother? Are you serious?"

Reader opened her mouth to say something, but closed it as she realized she didn't know what to say. Everything in her heart combatted her brain and she didn't know what was the right and wrong thing to say. She looked at Jaime, who had moved himself off of her to sit beside her. They were still very close, his bed only a single mattress which gave them little space to do much.

"Mili, I-" Jaime started, realizing that he needed to be the one to say something. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way."

She shook her head. "Oh, don't even try that."

"I'm serious," he said, grabbing his shirt and pulling it back on. "We wanted to tell you, but we just didn't know how."

"Well, let me help you out there," she said, smiling wide and obviously fake. She put on a pleasant voice. "Hey, sis, I just wanted to let you know that I'm fucking your best friend. Is that okay with you? What? It isn't? Well, about that..."

"It's not like that," Reader said, putting her face in her hands to hide the embarrassment she was feeling at that implication. She didn't blame her for thinking that, she'd literally walked in on them about to get it on, if they were even gonna go that far. She took a deep breath and looked up at Milagro. "We really like each other... we have for a while."

The sweet words Jaime had told Reader came to mind, how he'd always thought of her as beautiful. How when he thought he was going to lose everything, she was a part of that everything. She was a big part of his life and that wasn't going to change no matter what. They were close and it was an undeniable fact how that closeness had morphed into love.

"Please, don't be mad at her," Jaime said, looking back at Reader with soft, beautiful eyes. He stared at her for a moment before turning back to his sister and telling her, "I told her that you wouldn't like this. It's my fault it all happened like this. We just didn't want to upset you."

Milagro scoffed. "I'm not upset that you are together. I'm shocked Reader would wanna be with you. I mean, she was here for the kiddie pool incident. I'm more upset that you think I'd be upset about it. Yeah, you're my brother-" she looked at Reader next, "and you're my best friend, you didn't have to hide this from me."

"We're so sorry," Reader said, the guilt finally eating her up. However, with the secret exposed, it was starting to shift and disappear. Her heavy heart wasn't so heavy anymore. "We overthought it, I guess."

"Yeah, you did," Milagro sighed. She shook her head with a little eye roll. "So, how long?"

"Huh?" Jaime let out.

"How long have you two been sneaking around?"

"Four months."

"I knew it," she said and pointed a finger in her brother's face. "At least now you can't deny you have a girlfriend."

"Are you serious right now? That's what you're most concerned with?"

Reader giggled as she watched the siblings banter with one another. It brought some familiarity back to the situation and she was thankful for it. There was nothing better than having her best friend and her boyfriend getting along, well as much as they usually did at the very least.

"Just don't make out with me around, I don't need to see that," Milagro said. She stuck her tongue out in disgust to make her point. Then she moved her hands in circles to gesture to the room. "And whatever you two were about to do in here, don't do it when I'm home. O r actually, don't do it here at all. I don't wanna know you guys do it here."

It was Jaime's turn to roll his eyes. "Well, since you brought it up, you should know that we-"

"Ah! No, leave me out of it," she said and turned to leave. "Keep it to yourselves!"

Jaime smirked and turned to Reader, who was a little flustered after that. He eased it with a small kiss and sighed. "I guess we can always go to your place..."

"That might be for the best," she giggled. However, the mood was ruined, and all she had to say for now was, "She took that well."

They laughed together he hugged her, pulling her close to kiss the side of her face. She fell into a fit of giggles as he pulled her to lay with him on the bed, holding her close. It was all she needed at that moment and it was perfect. Though she expected a lot of teasing in the coming days, which was okay by her. She could take it so long as her boyfriend was by her side and receiving the same amount, likely more, of treatment.