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ganggangscenarios · 3 months

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Diamond Heart

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: You finally decide to utilise your gym membership. Personal trainer!Jungkook

Genre: Romance, comedy, smut, angst

Warnings: Body image. Negative language. Heavy smut scene at the end.

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This is the second time I've uploaded this story. The first time, I received some pretty mean comments and messages. SOOOOOO I have to say, if you don't like. my writing, that's fine, just exit my page lol. Do not leave mean comments please.

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New year, new you, right? Your new years resolution was to get your body right, eat healthily, drink less and most importantly; get in the gym. However, it had been months since the new year had begun and you still hadn’t utilised your gym membership. The fee was regularly from your bank account every month and you had yet to step foot into the establishment. You frowned every time you saw the transaction on your bank statement, but you did absolutely nothing about it.

But the influence of social media made you feel like you wanted to try and be a gym girlie. So you took your gym bag to work, placed It under your desk so you didn’t have any excuse not to go. Plus, the gym was quite literally in your work building.

You sigh change into untouched gym clothes that you had bought all the way back at the end of December, preparing for your new year’s resolution. Shame rushes over your body as you tear the tags from the tight fitting clothes and chuck them into the sanitary bin next to the toilet. Huffing and puffing you slide your socked feet into new exercise shoes. Stuffing your work clothes into the bag, you exit the bathroom stall and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You didn’t look too bad, you looked like someone who was ready to workout. If you looked the part, you could play the part.

Lugging the bag over your shoulder, you head to the gym.

It was pretty empty, you were surprised, as the majority of colleagues held a membership, considering all employees got a ten percent discount as your employers owned the building.

You guess that people don’t usually come straight from work, they most likely go home and come back. But not everyone suffers from severe procrastination like you do.

Heading to the changing rooms, to put your bag away, you pass a very good looking man, you almost trip over as your eyes stick to him. He dressed in a baggy white shirt and shorts, his feet adorned in similar shoes to yours. His hair was cut in a cool way, it was kinda long, considering all the men at work and currently surrounding him, all sported cropped haircuts. His ears and his lips were embellished with piercings, you almost walked into a wall when you saw him playing with his lip piercings, the tip of his tongue, just grazing the shiny metal. Your gaze fleetingly drops to his arm, his tattooed arm. How was a man like this working here? He should be on the cover of vogue or something.

Tearing your eyes away from him, you manage to make it into the changing room, unscathed. You quickly lock away your bag and head back out onto the main floor, phone and AirPods in hand, ready to tackle the gym. And then it hits you a ton of bricks. You have no idea what you’re doing. You didn’t know where to start, what equipment does what, what part of your body to focus on.

You look around at people lifting weights, running on the treadmills, using the equipment like pros.

Your eyes focus in on the 'smoke show' of a man that ‘briefly’ caught your eye earlier. He was now sitting behind the front desk and under a large poster for personal trainers. The poster read ‘In the body gym: PT sessions available; first 2 sessions are free’. And if a sign from the universe, it doesn’t fail to mention how the offer is time limited. You take it as a sign, plus you were most likely going to try the gym twice before never going again. Might as well get free personal training out of it.

With determination, you walk towards the front desk, before stopping in front of that man of a man. And that’s when the words on your tongue freeze.

Jungkook notices a presence looming over him and he puts the finishing touches on the next promotional poster. He looks up and smiles. He noticed you when you first came in, you were a new face, he knew all the regulars who attended the gym and he had never seen you before. He would definitely remember a face like yours. He stands up.

“Hello, how can I help you?” He rests his tattooed hand on the desk and he notice how your eyes grow larger at the sight.

Your words are still finding it hard to get out of your mouth. You probably look like such a weirdo, standing there and staring at him. You manage to lift your finger and gesture to the poster behind him.

He smiles and his smile is the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.

“You want to book a PT session?”

You nod and swallow the lump that had been lodged in your throat since you walked up to the desk.

“Sorry, yes, I’d like to book five.” You fumble to pull out your credit card from the back of your phone.

“I can just add the fee to your account. You don’t need to pay directly. The fee won’t be noticeable until the third session, on the account of our offer.” He leans forward to adjust your account.

You can see down his shirt from the angle. And by the sight you can tell that he works in a gym. Hell, he might even live in it.

He clicks a few times and quickly straightens back up, you swiftly divert your gaze.

“You are free to start your first session today.” He comes out from behind the desk and he towers over you, your knees buckle. Maybe that’s something you need to work on. Do your knees have muscles? Can you make them stronger?

“Okay, should I wait here for the trainer?” You ask.

He goes behind the desk, ducks down and then comes back out.

He extends his hand and you stare at him in confusion.

He retracts his hand, and rubs the back of his neck.

“I don’t know why I did that…” He awkwardly chuckles, shaking his head.

It can’t be. There’s no way that he’s your P-

“I’m your trainer. I hope that’s okay, the other guys are fully booked and I had a cancellation today, so I thought it’d be a cute joke…” He trails off, taking note of the smile growing across your face.

You feel kinda at ease seeing him get a little awkward attempting to joke with you. He looked like he should be the cockiest motherfucker ever, but second by second he was proving that he was the complete opposite of that. It was endearing but there was no way he could be your personal trainer, not like you had a shot with him anyway, he probably had a really fit and hot girlfriend. You digress, you didn’t want him to see you all sweaty, breathing hard and struggling to complete simple moves.

He looks at you, his eyes doubling in size. He can tell you’re slightly uncomfortable, he could almost visualise the Neurons firing off in your head. He was attracted to you, that’s for sure, he wasn’t trying to come off as creepy. Maybe he did, and now you don’t want to train with him, maybe you’ll cancel your membership too.

He rapidly looks around the gym, hoping to catch the eye of one of his colleagues, so he could offer to trade clients. He catches Namjoon’s eye, but before he could call him over, you speak;

“It was funny, I’m just a bit scared.”

His gaze meets your eyes again. He internally feels a huge rush of relief. Thank goodness he didn’t scare you away.

“Oh good.” He tucks his hair behind his ear.

Cute. You think.

“Why are you scared?” He quickly follows up.

Shifting your weight between your feet, you answer, your voice barely audible over the EDM base leaking through the speakers.

“I don’t want to embarrass myself. You’re a professional and I don’t want to make a fool of myself.” You play with your earbud case, avoiding eye contact.

You wouldn’t be his first client who had that same fear, it was completely natural to be scared of embarrassing yourself. He felt the same way when he started boxing, the first session was nerve-racking, scared of getting anything wrong. But all you need is a good and supportive trainer. And if says so himself, that’s what he thinks he is.

“Don’t be scared. I’m here to help you. We’ll start slow, okay?” He offers a warm smile and places his large hand on your shoulder.

You almost fall from the feeling of his hand on your bare shoulder. Yes, you were acting like a teenage girl who had never interacted with a man before. But look at him. You were a grown ass woman who had never interacted with a man that looked like him before.

He leads you over to a room separate from the rest of the gym, closed off with glass doors, allowing you to see the whole place. Inside the room were a few exercise balls, foam roller and weights. The floor was soft and covered in mats.

He takes you over to the furthest mat in the room.

“Just me and you here, so don’t be nervous. This section is pretty discreet.” He reassures you.

You smile and place your phone and earbuds down on the floor next to the two mats you were currently occupying.

“We are going to start with stretching, so please sit down. I might have to help you with some of the positions. I hope you don’t mind being stretched…” His voice quietens as he realises how it sounds.

His cheeks flush a pretty pink. A hot flash that runs through you, leaves a thin layer of sweat on your hairline.

And so it begins.

The next morning you wake up sore as fuck. All that extra stretching at the end of the session seemed useless now. Your legs feel like lead as you swing them out of bed and headed to the bathroom. As you sit on the toilet, your thighs scream at you, it was almost as if you could feel every fibre of your muscles tear.

Your phone buzzes on the countertop. Finishing your business, you wash your hands and run the shower.

You tap the screen on your phone to see a message from Jungkook. He said it was important to have direct contact with each other, just incase he wanted to recommend some gym wear or if you had any questions.

Jungkook (Gym): ’Hope yesterday didn’t tire you out too much. You did great 👏 ‘

Another comes in as you finish reading.

Jungkook (Gym): ‘I hope to see you at the gym (or outside) soon! Make sure to book another session! 😊’

You quickly pick up your phone, steam fills the room as the water continues to gush from the pipes.

It vibrates in your hand.

Jungkook (Gym): ‘Sorry if that was unwarranted.’

It vibrates again. You didn’t want to risk opening the messages just incase you were unsure of what to say. You really didn’t want to leave him on read unintentionally.

Jungkook (Gym): ‘Please ignore the last two messages 😣 .’

Jungkook (Gym): ‘Lets pretend that didn’t happen. Sorry for the spam 😔

You click on the notification and unlock your phone.

You: Its okay 😆 My body feels like its on fire every time I move, is that normal?

You fire off the text.

Jungkook (Gym): ‘Yes 😂 completely normal. You should buy a foam roller to massage your muscles~ But more stretching should help in the mean time. Here is a video to follow (its me btw 😳)’

He sends a link to a Youtube video. You’re intrigued. The gym seemingly had a YouTube channel. The link loads and then you see Jungkook on your screen. Holding the phone in one hand, you quickly turn off the shower and head to your bedroom. Careful not to walking into any walls, you sit on your bed.

He greets the audience cheerfully, informing them that this was a tutorial for stretching to relieve muscle ache. He is wearing the gym’s merch, not like when you saw him the day before, it wasn’t a baggy t-shirt, no. This time it was a form fitting sleeveless, lycra shirt, with the gym’s logo nestled between his sculpted pecs. His vibrant tattoos more on show than they were in person. His legs were wrapped in shorts, that fell just above his knees.

He encourages the viewers to get an exercise mat or find a soft surface. You follow his instruction. A loud groan escapes your lips as you struggle to sit down.

He sports the brightest smile as he guides the (most likely thirsty) watchers through the exercises.

You strain your muscles as you attempt to toe touch. And then he says something that brings you back to the previous day, during your session.

“You might need a partner to stretch you, if you can’t get far enough. It’ll feel really good.”

You were being advised on how to stretch and then when it came to this specific stretch. You were laying on your back, hands clasped around your knee. You knew that you weren’t flexible, but you didn’t know that you were this stiff. You tried your best to pull your leg into your chest, but you couldn’t anything.

“Its not working.” You say, letting your leg drop to the ground with a thud.

Jungkook chuckles and looks down at you, arms crossed, his biceps bulging. The strength it took to not stare was more than what you used to lift the weights.

“I think you need help.” He kneels down in front of you.

He pauses.

“I can help you, if you want.”

You nod.

He mutters an ‘okay, great’, before asking you to resume the position. He moves forward, putting his body over yours, placing his hands on your calf and pushing your leg up and down.

You almost moan with how good the stretch felt. You try your damn hardest not to concentrate on the man who was currently on top of you. You tried not to take notice of his scent, or the small scar on his cheek, or the mole under his lip.

“Can you feel it now?” He smirks.

He knew you could feel it, he heard the noise you let slip. He tries not to think anything of it, but his mind runs wild. He had to be professional. Plus you hadn’t indicated that you were interested in him in the slightest.

You nod again. He sits back on his heels and lets go of your leg.

You’re pulled out of your reminiscent state by a notification and the sound of the phone vibrating against the floor.

Jungkook (Gym): Did it help? 😢

You quickly reply with no thoughts. Empty headed.

You: Its not the same without you

He was gonna think you were like all those other woman in the gym who thirsted over him. You needed to fix it.

You quickly send another message.

You: *your help ☺️

Jungkook’s heart sank at your correction. Maybe you weren’t interested. You probably in a relationship and the last thing you wanted to deal with was a creepy PT harassing you. He doesn’t reply.

You spend your whole shower thinking about being left on read.

Your closest co-worker, Bethany, sits across from you during in lunch. She notices how you barely make conversation, or keep the conversation. You check your phone every 5 minutes.

“Who are we waiting for?” She asks, her fork digging around in her bowl.

“Huh?”

She chuckles.

“You’re obviously waiting for someone to text. You keep on looking at phone like every two seconds. So, who are we waiting for?”

You didn’t know you were being that obvious.

“Well… My personal trainer is a total twenty out of ten. And he messaged me this morning to give me some stretching tips, and I may have ended our last convo on a creepy note. And now I think that he’s ghosting me because I was a creep. He probably blocked me. I’m probably banned from the gym.” Words rush out of your sauce covered lips. Maybe spaghetti wasn’t the best meal to have in the middle of the day.

Bethany shoves a napkin in your face, which you accept gratefully. She request to see the messages. Embarrassed, you hand your phone over to her.

She remains silent as she scrolls down the screen.

“He has a crush on you.” She finally speaks, her eyes fixed on the screen, her thumb pressing down. She was doing more than looking at the messages.

“You better not be sending another message.” You warn her, hand reaching across the table.

She swiftly moves her chair back, so your phone is out of reach.

“If you don’t snatch him up, someone else will. Oh my God, he is…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, she turns the screen towards you. And you freeze. It is a picture of a rather muscular man’s bare back, the hair at the nape of his neck was wet with sweat. And the tattooed arm… You knew that arm. It was in your dreams last night.

“W-where did you find that?”

She smiles and her thumb resumes the swiping motion.

“It was in his previous profile pictures.” She leans back in her chair.

“His picture is a brown dog.” You sit back, the image burnt into your eyes.

How were suppose to act now that you’ve seen that? All you can imagine is digging your nails into that back as-

See? You’ve been corrupted. No, you must be ovulating, that why the impure thoughts plague your mind. You’ve seen good looking men before, but you’ve never had such a primal reaction before. You also didn’t know him well enough to like anything besides his looks. His very, very, very good looks.

“He has a ton of pictures. He may be the first guy ever who’s good at taking pictures. Damn, look at this.” She turns the screen towards you once more. This time he was standing in a mirror, hair slicked back and in a black button down.

“I can never go back to the gym. I guess my new years resolution is not going to be fulfilled.” You sigh, leaning forward to put your head in your arms.

Suddenly, Bethany gasps.

“He replied.” She smiles.

Your heart drops to your stomach.

“I can’t look. You read it.” You close your eyes, not wanting to look at her face.

She clicks on the notification. It felt as if seconds were taking hours to pass.

“Aww~”

Your head pops up, eyes shoot open.

“Aww?”

She nods.

“He said ‘I’d be glad to help, I like you.”

You lunge forward and grab the device out of her hand.

It shakes in your hand

Jungkook (Gym): * your company 😜

Your heartbeat quickens and a smile spreads across your face. He was nicely making fun of you, recalling back to your little save earlier.

“If you don’t go for it, I will.” Bethany jokes, her engagement ring, glistening under the lighting of the restaurant.

You sit back in your chair, clutching the phone, thinking of a reply. The phone buzzes again.

Jungkook (Gym): I hope I didn’t ruin my chances of asking you out for dinner after our training sessions. I hope it didn’t come off as creepy 🤢

You didn’t dwell on a reply, you thumbs swiftly move across the screen as you type out a reply.

You: Why wait? 🫤

Jungkook didn’t want to rush anything just incase the attraction was purely physical. You still had four sessions left. He didn’t want to put either of you in that uncomfortable position of feeling like you were stuck with someone you had a bad experience with. What if you found him boring, or strange, or creepy? Oh he was so stupid, luckily you seemed interested, but he didn’t even ask if you were single or not, he just pounced on you like some sort of predator.

Jungkook (Gym): I want you to keep on coming to the gym. I want it to go well.

Your heart melts. It was endearing. That someone that looked like him could be nervous.

You send a heart emoji and lock your phone, placing it screen down on the table. As you’re about to open your mouth to discuss your messages with Bethany, your phone rings. Flipping it up, you see the name on the screen; Jungkook.

You show Bethany. She snatches the device from you and answers it, shoving it to your ear.

“Hello?” You say.

“Hi. How are you?” His silky, yet raspy voice bleeds through the speakers.

Your eyes zero in on the left over food on your plate, your finger mindlessly tracing patterns into the table.

“I-I’m good. You?”

You could hear the EDM music that played in the gym come through the phone. It must be at work.

“Same. Uh, do you want to come in today? I could help the soreness go away? Well, not completely, but feel better?” He suggests, shyly. You practically see his tattooed arm raise to go behind his neck to shake through the back of his hair.

You didn’t have any plans to go to the gym for another 2 days Your sweaty clothes were still stuffed in your gym bag next to your front door. You hadn’t even bothered to put them in the laundry.

“Uh… I don’t have my gym clothes today.” You lean back in your chair.

Jungkook was unsure of how he was going to come off but he had to try. He really wanted to see you, he felt pathetic having a crush like this. Pursuing a crush like this.

“We have gym apparel here.” He says.

You almost scoff. Not meaning to come off as condescending. You try to disguise the scoff as a cough.

“I’m not really a gym girlie. So I’m not into buying gym clothes like that… I’ll be come in on Friday tho-“

He cuts you off.

“I’m looking at the system now and your membership actually expires tomorrow. You signed up for a 6 month contract and well… its been 6 months.”

He was telling the truth, but he was coming off as desperate.

“Oh. Um, Its my lunch break right now, I guess I could quickly come in to renew. I’ll be there soon.”

You both mutter a quick farewell before ending the phone call.

“Sounds like he really wants to see you.”

You walk into the gym, feeling slightly uneasy dressed in your work clothes, your heels sinking into the padded floor. You immediately spot Jungkook who was currently with a client at one of the machines, a young woman who looked like she didn’t really need to be in the gym, but thats probably what hard work and dedication gets you. Results. He was dressed casually as always, a t-shirt and baggy shorts. This time a beanie encased his raven locks. You rip your gaze away from the two of them and head to the front desk. A young man greets you, you read his name tag ‘Namjoon’. He was tall, buff and oh so handsome. Was that the requirement to work at this gym?

How can I help you today?” Namjoon asks.

“Hi, I need to renew my membership.” You start.

The man smile, his dimple becoming more prominent with every tooth that displays.

“Sure, what’s your name?” His fingers ready to enter your information into the computer.

You give him your name, placing your handbag on to the counter to find your ID just incase.

Namjoon’s eyebrows reach his hairline and his yells for Jungkook. You’re startled at the sudden outburst. You look up at him in confusion. He gives you a curt smile before backing away from the counter and jogging over to Jungkook. You follow him with your eyes as he approaches Jungkook. You’re unable to hear their conversation as a count of the the loud music and the distance. You see Jungkook turn to his client and she dismounts from the machine and takes a swig of water. The two men exchange a few words before Jungkook heads your way. He approaches you with a gleaming smile on his face. You return a shy grin.

He jogs behind the counter.

“Is there a problem? Couldn’t Namjoon, is that his name? Couldn’t he do it?” You tilt your head in wonder.

Jungkook felt a pang of jealousy in his chest, he didn’t enjoy the fact that you seemed to want Namjoon to assist you when he was right there.

You notice his eyes flicker and his smile falter.

“You looked busy, I didn’t want to bother you.” You reach your hand out in defence.

His smile returns at its luminescence.

“Its no bother. I was expecting you.” Types in your information into the system and prints out a new contract. He quickly turns around to grab the sheet of paper from the printer. You take the time to admire his back, the image of his shirtless back flashing through your mind.

Your thoughts are interrupted when he puts the contract down on the counter and gestures to the pen perched in it’s stand. He tells you where to sign. You quickly sign and date on the dotted line before handing it back to him.

“Do you want to grab dinner tonight?” He asks.

You’re taken aback by the sudden invite.

Before you could respond, Jungkook’s client saunters over to the two of you.

“Kookie, are we going to finish the session?” She leans on the counter, and you take the opportunity to take a glance at her body. She had the physique of a dancer, or a model. She was definitely on someone’s (your) vision board.

You weren’t an overly insecure person, but thats was mostly because you kept to yourself and limited your use of social media. But in times like these, when you unintentionally comparing yourself to another woman who was just simply existing in the presence of a good looking man. You wrap your blazer around your waist trying to shield your shape as you feel her eyes dart up and down your body.

“Yeah give me one second.” He doesn’t turn away from you.

Jungkook was about to open his mouth, when the lady interrupts;

“He’s really good. He’ll get you into shape in no time! He also offers meal plans, if he hasn’t told you already.” She gives you the once over one more time.

You feel yourself fold in. Your shoulder slump and chest caves in. You suddenly become aware of your body and how different it was in comparison to all the people in the gym. In comparison to Jungkook, who was seemingly trying to ask you out right now. You thought of his intentions. Was he trying to garner more business for the gym? Was he going to take you out and suggest that you sign up for more PT sessions? Or maybe he was simply doing his job? And he asked all his clients out to dinner so he could monitor their eating habits?

Or MAYBE it was worse; and he got a kick of leading innocent woman into thinking they had a chance with men like him. And all the people at the gym knew it?

“Clara, I’ll be over in 5 minutes. Namjoon is gonna take over for a while.” He gestures over to Namjoon, who was leaning against a machine, patiently waiting for her to return.

She scoffs before walking away, making a point to sway her hips as she walks away. Jungkook rolls his eyes and looks back at you, a smile resting on his visage.

“Are you free tonight?” He asks, his eyes grow with hope.

The hope soon dissipates when he watches your face distort with uncertainty.

“Look, I don’t want you to go above and beyond for me. I just want to get used to coming to the gym first. Um… I know I’m not a supermodel but-.” He stops you.

“What?” He brows furrow in confusion. He runs through the past few minutes in his head and wonders where he may have misled you. He knew he sometimes had the misfortune of mixing up his words and confusing people, but he honestly didn’t think he mixed up his words this time. He barely spoke.

“I appreciate your help, but please don’t feel obliged to go outside the boundaries of the gym t-.” He cuts you off again.

“Boundaries?” He questions.

You swallow the hard lump that had formed in your throat, you already felt small, but you felt yourself becoming smaller.

“Yeah. I know you offer ‘meal plans’. But we don’t have to go out for dinner in order for you to sell them to me.” You choke out.

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise and his mouth drops open.

“I-I. No.” Is all he can say.

“No?”

“No. I want to take you out because I like you. Well I like what I know of you. I want to get to know you. I think you’re gorgeous by the way.” The last part comes out under his breath.

You’re lost for words, you don’t know whether you should apologise or question his response.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I wanted to wait until after our sessions were done so you didn’t get the wrong impression.” He looks down at his shoes.

You felt so bad, jumping to conclusions, you were the one who forced to ask you sooner. He was trying to make you comfortable, he never said anything about your appearance or made you feel any less than. You forced your insecurities on a really nice guy, who showed a little interest in you.

“I’m sorry. Maybe I should get another trainer. And I’m-“ His gaze meets yours, eyes wide.

“No, no! I still want to be your trainer and take you out! I just hope I didn’t give you the wrong impression. I really like you.”

You shift in your spot, clutching your bag.

He pulls his phone from his pocket and taps the screens a few times. He shows you the screen.

“Look, if you don’t want to get dinner, which I understand. Lets go here. Its a painting cafe, its open til late night and they have drinks. Its really chill. You mentioned in our first session how you wanted yo do something creative, right?”

You smile, he was seemingly trying so hard.

“Okay.” You say, coyly.

He beams.

“Okay?”

You nod.

“I’ll meet you outside at 6:30?” He locks his phone and slides it back into his pocket.

“Okay!” You smile before turning around and walking away.

This time, Jungkook watches you walk away, failing at containing the smile that had exploded on his face.

Jungkook knew his last client of the day felt rushed, he didn’t bother with the final stretches like he usually does, he didn’t even bother to jokingly flirt with the 75 year old woman like he usually did either. He aided her in putting the 2kg weights back on the rack before running into the men’s changing room, stripping and jumping into the shower.

He scrubbed his body head to toe, making sure to get rid of the grime from the day.

Before he knew it, he was waiting outside of the building, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He catches a glimpse of his reflection and he immediately fixes his hair, one strand would not stay in its place, he knew he needed to use more hair gel. He should’ve asked Jimin if he could use a little more.

Staring through the glass, he saw you coming, caught up in the crowd of people who were dying to get home.

Finally, you come through the doors and walk up to him. You greet him brightly, hoping he can’t hear the nerves plaguing your voice.

He beams at you and asks about your day. He informs you that the place wasn’t too far away and was in walkable distance.

The start of the date was awkward, as expected, no more than a few words at a time being exchanged. He was ever the gentleman, before picking out a design for your canvases, he helped you out with your apron. You fought to keep your knees from buckling as he came in close from behind to tie the back. You do the same for him, the height difference, between the two of you becoming ver present, as well as the broadness of his back.

The host lead you two a secluded room, as you both clutched your chosen designs in hand. The room was quite romantic, low lighting, except for the luminous light surging each easel. There was a table separating the two chairs, displaying the paint and the brushes. You glance at Jungkook and see the look of glee.

You both place the canvases on the easels and take your seats. The host, takes place in front of the two of you.

“You have 2 and a half hours, you are free to use all the material here. If you need anymore, please press the call button.” She gestures to the button, stuck to the end of the table, covered in the paint bottles.

She continues;

“This is an evening painting session, so we now serve wine at the bar. Selective dishes are also available to order. Coffee and snacks are still available. And… please refrain from any inappropriate behaviour, or you will be asked to leave and banned from the premise. We do have CCTV in each room.” She offers an awkward smile and swiftly leaves the room.

Jungkook hopes you don’t think that he brought you here for illicit reasons. Maybe you’d think he was one of those sleazy guys who take women to private rooms and try it on with them. Shit. You haven’t said anything. Shit. He hasn’t said anything. He’s been in his head for the past few seconds.

“I hope I’m not bad at this.” You say, breaking the silence, with a light laugh.

He turns to you and smiles, picking up a paintbrush and offering it to you. You take it and return the smile.

From then on, the date runs smoothly. You both decide to order a bottle of wine and share a plate of pasta. One bottle turned into two, and the room was filled with laughter and stories. The misunderstandings of the afternoon long forgotten. Before you knew it, a voice came through a small speaker, you didn’t know was there, reminding you that you had 10 minutes left.

In a burst of tipsy laughter, the two of you hurriedly finish your paintings.

Picking up your painting and Jungkook to the ‘drying station’, located, near the entrance. You both remove your paint covered aprons before attending to your paintings once again. You take a peek at his masterpiece before you flick on the hairdryer.

“How are you real?” You ask in disbelief.

He tilts his head in confusion.

“You look amazing, you’re nice, and you can paint. What can’t you do?” You giggle.

He laughs and shakes his head.

“No, no. I- You- I mean thank you. But I think the same about you.” He says quickly turning on his hairdryer, aiming it at his picture.

The hum of the machines fill the room, echoing your laughter that once filled your ears. Your ears, that were now flushed with flattery.

The hostess takes both paintings, wrapping them up carefully, and handing you both your respective bags. She taps on the register, reading off the total bill. You reach in your bag to find your card, yeah, it was a date, but you felt strange standing there as Jungkook paid for something that could’ve easily been a platonic date… Your thoughts are interrupted.

“Do you want the receipt?”

“Huh?” The sound slipped out.

Jungkook looks at you before answering.

“No thank you. Thank you, have a nice evening.” His free hand grabs yours and he guides you both outside.

So… not a platonic date then.

The street was much busier than it had been than when you had arrived. It was filled with people unwinding after a long day at work, ready for the weekend. It was also littered with loved up couples, holding hands, looking for places to eat, talking to each other about who knows what. If anyone were to look at the two of you, they would think you were one of those lovelorn couples. The way your hand fit in his, pace matching his, laughter mixing harmoniously with his.

“Thank you for tonight. I had so much fun.” You pull him to a stop, pulling him into a side road, away from the foot traffic.

Jungkook feels his heart swell, he was so happy. He felt like it went well, but to hear you say it? Made him feel like he was flying. To think that a few hours ago, it was all almost slipping away from him. He found himself drawn to you, he couldn’t explain it. He always believed that that’s how he’d find his ‘person’. It would just feel right. And it does.

“Me too. Thank you for giving me a chance.” He takes both your hand in his, eyes growing double in size.

You didn’t think it was possible for a man like him to look cute, but here he was, with his eyes shining, looking down at you. Looking as adorable as ever. You move closer, you were aware of your actions, but you also knew that the wine you drank was giving you the courage to do what you were about to do.

“I would like to k-“

“Yes.” A puff of air tickles your lips, as he closes his eyes.

He doesn’t feel anything.

He opens his eyes and steps back.

“Oh I’m sorry, I as-“

You pull him in and plant you lips on his. Its not perfect, you miss slightly, you feel his lips curl into smile. His hand leaves yours and meets your waist, bringing you in closer, he readjusts his lips on yours. His lip rings indenting into the plum flesh of your bottom lip. You have the sudden urge to feel it on your tongue. You swipe your tongue along his bottom lip, letting it tease the metal accessory for a few milliseconds before slipping it into his mouth. A low growl rumbles in his throat and he tangles is tongue with yours. Your hand finds its way to the back of his neck, fingers delving into the hair at the nape of his neck. His hand wonders from your waist to your lower back, fingers inching closer to your behind.

The sound of a throat clearing brings you to a halt.

You separate, the rustling of your bags, sounding like teens laughing at their peers being caught making out at a high school house party.

“We should uh… get going.” You say, using your fingers to wipe the saliva from your mouth.

Jungkook licks his lips and nods. You were more than ready to go about being awkward and distant but that was never his plan, he grabs your hand and walks with you like he’d been kissing you like that.

He walks you back to the work building and calls you a taxi. You both bid each other a sweet goodnight, exchanging smiles and hugs before parting ways.

Jungkook makes sure to text you as soon as he watches your taxi drive down the road, telling you how much he enjoyed spending time and how he hopes he could do it sometime soon.

Your heart jumps at the sound of your phone vibrating in your bag. It does backflips as your eyes take in his words. For the second time that evening you ask him;

You: How are you real? 😂

He smiles to himself as he heads home, he snaps a quick picture of himself and sends it.

Jungkook 💕: Very real and all yours lol

He immediately regrets sending it. Fingers scrambling, he sends a second message.

Jungkook💕: If you’ll have me 🥴

He must be playing a joke on you, right? What does this tall, handsome, funny, sweet PERSONAL TRAINER want with you? He’s seen you, right? He’s seen the other women who go to his gym, right?

Jungkook looks at his message and sees the ‘1’ disappear. You read it. And you weren’t replying. He came on too strong. Great, he ruined the perfect evening.

Just as about he was about to type out an apology, your message pops up.

You: Do you have a fetish or something?

He furrows his eyebrows. Figuring texting is messing up true feelings, he presses the voice call button.

Your eyes widen when you see his name on your screen. You pick up.

“Hi.”

“Hey. Fetish?” He gets right to it.

“Yeah. You know…” Your voice comes out as a whisper.

He stops walking, he sits on a bench.

“I don’t know. To be honest, I’m very confused.”

You felt so embarrassed. You let your insecurities get the best of you and sabotage this relationship before it had the chance to even start.

“Jungkook. You’re you and…”

You pause. You feel your eyes water.

“I’m me. I’m not in the best shape and I’m not skinny or have a perfect hourglass figure. I’m definitely heavier than you.” You let out a dry laugh.

“I’m struggling to understand and believe that you like me. And that this isn’t some sort of sexual thing.” Your breath shakes.

Jungkook’s brows are now in permanent furrowed state, that never crossed his mind. Of course it didn’t because he didn’t think of you like that.

He says your name. It was different from the way you’ve heard it said by other guys before when you’ve brought up the same issue. He didn’t say with defeat or dipped in grease. It was usually followed by ‘you should take it as a compliment, I think big girls are sexy’. ‘I wanted to see what it was like’

Jungkook said nothing of the sort;

‘I’m me and you’re you. I like you. I like everything about you. Well, what I know so far, I want to know more. I want to go on more dates, I want to see where this goes. Hopefully it can go far. I’d really like that. And you may not understand why I like you, but you don’t have to right now, I’ll show you. I’m sorry if a guy has made you feel like you’re a plaything and not likeable. I wish I could punch him.”

You laugh.

“I like hearing you laugh. I want to be the reason for that. Thank you telling me how you feel and not just ghosting. I appreciate it. “ You could hear him smile through the phone.

He couldn’t be real. But you had to tell yourself he was or you’d fuck it up.

“Thank you for not being weirded out.” You sniffle.

He laughs.

“After kissing me like that? I’m locked in.”

2 months later

Jungkook was a very understanding and patient boyfriend. He must’ve gotten a lot of practice from his job as a personal trainer. He pushed you to try new things, go to new places, but he always made sure you were comfortable. He was a living manifestation of your dream man.

He had asked you to be his girlfriend during your 5th and final training session. You were stretching together, he had your leg stretched out and next to your head (definitely not gym approved), when he ‘popped the question’. You agreed very quickly and kissed him, only for the kiss to be interrupted by ‘Clara’, the client who was convinced that she was playing the long game with Jungkook.

She lets out a loud gasp before storming out of the room.

“I think I may have lost you a client. Sorry.” You giggle.

He pecks your lips and releases your leg.

“But I gained a girlfriend.

Jungkook invites you over for a movie night after work on a Friday night. He’s ever the gentleman, he waits outside the building, takes your bag and holds your hand the entire walk to his house. You had been over to apartment on several occasions. But never for an overnight stay, for a moment or two before heading out. You head to the bathroom, taking your overnight bag, you wash off your makeup, change out of work clothes and into a oversize shirt and sleep shorts. Neatly folding your clothes back into your bag, you head back out into the living room.

He looks up at you as you place your bag under the breakfast bar.

“You look cute.” He smiles, cutting up strawberries into a bowl.

You walk up next to him, your brushing up his broad back and wrapping around his waist. You kiss his cheek.

“Thank you.” You kiss his jaw.

You were both quite wary when it came to physical intimacy, you’d cuddle, hold hands and occasionally kiss, but things were moving very slowly. You wondered if he was even attracted to you (you tried to push the bad thoughts to the back of your head) , as he rarely ever initiated contact. You were still trying to come across has chill and nonchalant, but the truth was… you were horny. You wanted to jump his bones every time you saw him, he was gorgeous. He had been bragging about a delicious dish that he learned to make, and how excited he was to show you. You were a bit reluctant about accepting the invite, you’d been to his apartment before, but for only a few minutes at a time. You had never spent time with him in his house with access to a bed.

You help him cook, despite him telling you to sit down. You both sit down and enjoy the meal, sharing laughs and stories from the day. After eating, you wash up together, feeling very domestic.

Drying your hands, you shyly you ask;

“Should we watch a movie?”

Jungkook dries the last bowl and smiles, that shy smile that you adored so much.

“Sure, the remote is on the couch. Pick whatever.”

You place the dish towel down ever so carefully, the silence lingering in air before you speak.

“I uh was thinking we could uh watch it in your bedroom. If you’re comfortable of course.” You pick the towel up once more, wringing it in your hands, palms turning red.

He notices your hesitation, places the bowl in the cabinet, gently pulls the towel out of your hands and wraps his arms around you. You immediately relax into the hug.

“Don’t be nervous to ask for things like that. I want to cuddle with you wherever. It’ll be nice.”

Before you knew it, you were under the sheets with Jungkook on top of you, lips locked, legs too, entangled in a heated position. One arm was around his neck and one was around his tiny waist, sneaking up his shirt. He moaned into the kiss, the deep guttural sound causing a pool arousal to soak your underwear. His large hand had naturally made its way on to your breasts, he has growled at the feeling of your braless tits in his hand. His other hand was above you, resting on the pillow. He let his body rest on you a little, increasing your temperature ever so slightly. You gasp into his mouth, feeling something firm pressed against your stomach. He kisses your lips once more before moving to your cheek, down to your jaw and then your neck, sucking your skin slightly. You weren’t a particularly vocal person in bed, but his actions were making hard for you to keep quiet, involuntary whines escaping your body.

“I-I’m h-hot.” You whimper.

He smirks.

“Yeah, you are.”

You snort.

“No~ I’m literally hot, can we take off the blanket?”

“Oh.” He laughs and flips the blanket off, rolling to the side of you, leaning on his elbow.

He stares at you. Before you could ask a question, his lips are on yours again. His hand cups your jaw. You kiss him back fervently, your hand

He pulls away, lips a hairbreadth from yours. His hand travels down your body, caressing your breast, squeezing your waist. Which makes you tense up. Your waist and stomach were areas that you were self conscious about, it felt like he was squeezing your flaws.

Think about something else. Thinking about something else.

He feels you go stiff.

“Are you okay?” He asks, lips pink and swollen.

You nod.

“Just touch me.” You grab his hand and place it on your waistband.

He bites his lips, without breaking eye contact, his fingers disappear into your shorts. He touches you over your panties first. He moans at the feeling of the soaked material.

“You’re so wet. All for me?” He smirks, eyebrows raised.

Your breath gets caught in your throat as he moves your panties to the side and his thumb meets your clit, fingers gliding over your folds. He takes his time before curling his long fingers into you, causing your to moan out in pleasure, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. He slowly fucks his fingers into you. The room is filled with the crude wet sound of your heat and the murmur of the voices of the long forgotten movie playing on TV.

You’ve never sounded like this before, unintelligible sounds tumbling from your lips as he pumps his digits in and out, hitting that place deep inside you.

“Y-your’e gonna make me c-“ You kiss him and place your hand on his bulge that had been growing.

He hisses, bucking into your hand. He takes his fingers out of you and hurriedly removes your shorts and underwear. You barely have time to think when his mouth meets your centre. His thick tongue licks you up, sucking on your pearl, like the best candy he’s ever tasted in his life. Your hands shoot out to grab his hair as you shake. You grunt out his name as you cum, eyes rolling to the back of your head, you try to catch your breath.

Jungkook rises to his knees and rips off his shirt, you catch a glimpse of his adonis like body before his kisses you. How were you in bed with someone who looks like that? Even though you had just felt like jelly, your brain tells your body to tense up. You kiss him back, trying your best to push the thoughts away, but as your hand feel up his toned, muscular physique, it was getting harder to fight them away.

Jungkook feels you tense under his touch. He pecks your lips before pulling away.

“Are you okay?” He asks, brown eyes glistening.

You nod and try to push the intrusive thoughts to the back of your mind. He raises his eyebrows, non verbally questioning you. You nod once again and presses your lips against his. He moans and kisses you back passionately. His hands wonder again, gripping your waist and pulling you closer to him. Your muscles tense once again. He feels you go stiff, he pulls away again.

Your eyes remain closed, scared to look at him. You’ve really fucked up now, he probably thinks you’re weird, and he probably regrets giving a ‘fat’ girl a chance.

“You’re not okay. Tell me what’s wrong baby.” He moves closer to you and brushes hair out of your face, but then he quickly retracts.

“Do you not want me to touch you?”

You open your eyes, not daring to look at him, your stare tasering in on every detail of his bedroom ceiling.

“I’m sorry if I m-“

“No! I just have- I’m just… All I keep thinking of is what you must think.”

He looks at you puzzled.

“What I think?”

You take a deep breath and sit up, pulling your legs into yourself.

“You must’ve been with girls who have insane bodies, and you work at a gym for god’s sake! And now you’ve got to tolerate me. I don’t wanna put you off by taking off my shirt.” You ramble.

Jungkook barely keeps up with your words, he wants to grab you and tell you that you’re beautiful, and that he is more than attracted to you. But he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, you were literally telling him how you were uncomfortable you were with him touching you. Well, you didn’t say that explicitly but he didn’t want to push you further.

Him just sitting there was making you more anxious, maybe he had been hiding his true feelings. He did find you repulsive, maybe he was being kind and didn’t know how to let you down gently.

Without sparing a glance his way, you attempt to get off the bed. He stops you, hand gently landing one your thigh. You stare down at his tattooed fingers, slightly gripping, leaving dents in your skin.

“Don’t go. I think you’re gorgeous. L-like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. That I’ve ever had the privilege to meet, to date, to kiss… To touch.”

You scoot back on the bed, eyes never leaving his.

“N-now I understand if you don’t wanna stay the night anymore, but.. I really want you to stay. And we don’t have to do anything, I won’t even touch you. I can sleep on the couch if that would make you more comfortable.”

He moves his hand towards your face, fingertips hovering over your cheek, scared to brush your hair out of your face.

“Even if you want to leave, please don’t leave thinking that I don’t want you or that I’m not attracted to you. You are perfect to me and it sucks that guys have made you feel like you aren’t the most beautiful woman in the world. “

You look into his eyes and you can feel his sincerity. You lean into his open hand, letting his palm warm your cheek.

“I-i want you to touch me. I want you to want to touch me.”

Jungkook grabs your face and kisses you.

“I do want to touch you. I want to do more than that. But I want you to feel more than comfortable with that.”

You kiss him, deepening the kiss before he even has the chance to pull away. You wrap your arms around his neck and you fall back, pulling him on top of you.

He rolls you both onto your sides and places his hands firmly on your hips. He moans into your mouth, sending heart down between your legs. You clench around nothing and rub your legs together, in an attempt to relieve yourself.

Jungkook’s hand brushes your thigh, as if he was asking for an invitation inside. You spread to let him in, his fingertips once again dance along your folds, becoming slick with arousal. He toys with your hardening nub, making you twist and turn. His mouth detaches from yours and land on your neck. He licks and kisses a spot that makes it impossible to keep quiet. Your arms wrap around his body, nails digging into the taut skin of his back. His fingers tease your opening before plunging in deep. His fingers move smoothly and quickly, pulling egregious noises from your lips. He feels you tighten around his fingers.

“Are you gonna cum for me again? Soak my fingers?” He whispers in your ear.

You feel a burning flash run through your body as you let go and experience release. You come undone and as you do, he presses his lips against yours, licking into your mouth. He gently pulls his fingers out of you and brings his fingers to his lips, alternating between kissing you and tasting your release.

Breath heavy, you snake your hand down between your bodies, fingers brushing his hardness in his boxers. He shudders. It had been a while since he had had sex. People perceived him as a hardcore fuckboy but he was truly the opposite. He wanted to be in a relationship, truthfully, that’s the only way he could cum, knowing the person beneath him was ‘his’.

“I don’t think I’m gonna last. I-I’m sorry.” He breathes out.

You smirk before pushing him back onto the bed and kneeling next to him. You bend at the waist and place a kiss over his boxers. His breathing gets heavier, chest heaving, abs clenching.

You palm his length before pulling him out and taking him into your mouth. You both moan as you sink deeper and feel him it the back off your throat. You suck gently, pulling off to lick at his tip.

His hand lands on the back off your head, slowly coming around to stroke your cheek. You maintain eye contact as you bob up and down. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he throws his arm over his eyes, unable to control his body as the pleasure takes over.

Suddenly, he gently pulls your hair, forcing you off of him.

“I’m gonna cum. I wanna feel you.” He confesses.

He sits up and reaches over to open his bedside table draw. You watch as he pulls out a foil packet. Expertly, he rips it open and slides the condom over his length. He turns back to you, encouraging you to lay back on the bed.

You lay back, and part your legs. He lines up with your core and gently pushes in. He hisses out a few curse words as he feels. You tighten around him. He almost collapses with how good it feels.

“So fucking tight.” He says through gritted teeth.

His grip on your hips tightens as he rocks back and forth. His tip hitting a spot in you that makes you scream in pleasure. He leans over you, encouraging you to hold on to him.

You both find a steady rhythm, moans reaching a crescendo as you explode. He follows shortly after, you feel the warm fill the condom. He rolls off you and next to you on the bed.

“Y-you are so sexy. Fuck.” He breathes out, chest heaving.

You laugh and turn to look at him.

“Thank you. I think you are too.” You reach out and brush his slightly damp hair out of his face. The angles of his chiseled face glisten more with the assistance of the tin layer of sweat that had formed on his skin.

He scoots closer to you and pecks your lips before getting up to get rid of the soiled condom that has become baggy with the deflation of his length.

You watch his figure as he heads into the bathroom.

You sigh a sigh of happiness. You might never be completely happy with yourself but you hope you can be happy with him and learn to love yourself as much as he might.

Hope you enjoyed this! Once again, no mean message please :)

#jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #jungkook x reader

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bettysupremacy · 7 months

Note

hi love ! could you write a fluff!rafe where the reader is a workaholic and ends up getting a cold and rafe takes care of her? 💌🍄

my boyfriend!!!!!!!

“I need to go in today.”

You gaze at Rafe, who returns your stare. It feels futile, yet you persist. You try to sit up, pulling the covers off your legs, but retreat under them when the overhead fan reaches. A dull ache permeates your body. The cold seeps into you, but the blanket is suffocating. Your body feels warm, but the air is biting.

You concede. “Nevermind.”

“Yeah.” Rafe moves to help you gently, he’s fixing the blanket.

“It’s fine.”

“Seriously,” Rafe warns suddenly. “I’m gonna make you cut your shifts down.”

“But-“

“No, this is a ‘I want to pass the time’ job, and you’re treating it like you’re employee of the month.” He’s annoyed, with you surely. “Shit, are you employee of the month?”

You frown, ignoring his question. He’s right. Though, he usually is. He already provides for you through the big money of the company his father passed down, you just don’t wanna be bored. You don’t want to contribute nothing, and you’re treating it like there’s rent to pay and mouths to feed. Well, there is, but not in the demand you

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he huffs. “I just can’t stand seeing you like this.”

“I know.”

He helps you sit, moving the pillows behind you. Your chest feels fuzzy and so do your eyes. Dully, your nausea makes you cough.

“I’m nauseous.” You tell him.

“Jeez.” He murmurs, his eyes round and concerned. “You want zofran?”

“Yes.” You whisper.

Tears pool in your eyes as he sits up, collecting at your eyelashes as you try to blink them away. You bring your hand to swipe at them, sniffling. Rafe’s brain lags.

“What?” He asks, kneeling down again, hands in desperate search of your face. “Baby, what?”

“I’m embarrassed.” You cry.

“Why?” His rough hands swipe at your tears gently. “Everyone gets sick.”

You turn away from him,

“If this is about me being upset earlier, I swear it wasn’t at you.” He stresses. “I-I had a bad day, and seeing you’ve succumbed to illness makes me sad.”

You giggle wetly. “Succumbed to illness.”

He beams proudly. “I knew that would get a laugh.”

You smile up at him, fever working through your veins slowly. You shake again miserably, working yourself up into a fit of fat tears. They roll down the hills of your cheek heavily, pooling under your chin. You blink out three at once and Rafe nearly has a conniption. Why are you crying?

“It’s not.”

He works his hand over your hair, gently, but not cautiously. “Then what?” He pleads. “Help me understand.”

“I just love you.”

“You’re crying because you love me?”

“I don’t feel good.” You correct.

“You don’t feel good?”

“And I love you,” You admit. “but you’re here,” You moan. “seeing me like this, and you’re so pretty.”

He laughs, quickly recovering to a sympathetic face when you frown at him.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He soothes, lips near your ear. “Sometimes I look at you and I want to cry.”

“But you never do.” You wallow.

“Have you ever seen me cry?”

“Once.”

“Forget that.” He grimaces. “The point is, you’re stressed and sick.”

“I don’t see the point.” You murmur.

“You’re vulnerable right now, to your.. feelings. If I were sick, and stressed, and I saw you, I think I might cry too.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“Did the people cry when the angels came down in the Bible?”

“Did the angels.. come down?” You ask. “I’ve never read it.”

“I’m not sure.”

You laugh. “Maybe we should ask Scar.”

“Scar?”

“She’s smart.”

“I think she’s Jewish.”

“So?”

“Different book, my love.”

“Duh, I’m not that sick.” You laugh. It drips with sticky sticky cough syrup. “But still, she’s smart, maybe she’ll know.”

Rafe sighs lovingly. “Maybe. We got off track.”

“We always do.”

Rafe snorts. “You’re feeling better.”

“Get on track.”

“I don’t remember the point I was making with angels.”

You laugh, tilting your head up to look at him. “You’re useless.”

“Abominable girl.” He chastises, sitting up anyways.

“Go get me medicine.” You’re smiling. “Useless, useless doctor.”

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eddiediaaz · 19 days

Text

hi guys, i am kind of ashamed and embarrassed to have to do this, but i figured it can't hurt to ask. basically i am really struggling right now (i know a lot of us are). i need financial help, so i set up a ko-fi page ☕

any kind of help would be so appreciated and i am so grateful for anyone taking the time to read this little post.

long story short: because of situations completely out of my control, i lost my job in vfx after almost 8 years and i am now forced to switch careers. i'm going back to school and can't find a part time job even tho i have been working non stop for 15 years. financial aid will only cover my rent, so i absolutely need to work 20 to 30 hours a week to cover the rest of my living expenses, but it's really hard to find a job. i am also currently over 10k cad in debt from my film school loans and credit cards.

signal boost would be appreciated, if you can 💕

my situation in more details under the cut for those who are curious

i was working in the vfx industry as a 2D compositor since 2016 (i have worked on over 40 films and tv shows), but in december of 2023 i lost my job due to the hollywood strikes (as expected, and as it should—i fully support the strikes). this was supposed to be temporary for a couple months where i could get unemployment benefits (only 45% of my usual salary though). unfortunately, on may 31st 2024, my government announced that they are significantly cutting the funding & tax credits for the vfx industry where i live. what does this mean? mass lay offs. thousands of canadians and other people in the world working in the industry are losing their career, including me. there will only be about 20% vfx jobs left where i live by 2025. vfx shops and production houses have already started to close doors here. i'm still mourning this career i have been working in for 8 years and loved, even tho it's been difficult and demanding at times (lots of overtime), but there are just no jobs right now (unless you are a senior vfx artist with decades of experience) and the future will only get more bleak. i could move abroad and follow the industry that is already moving somewhere else, but i don't want to do that on my own (i am already super lonely as it is!!) and i can't afford it.

my unemployment benefits will run out by the last week of september. in 4 weeks. i've been sending resumes everywhere, both online and in person, but i am just not getting anything in return. even tho i have over 15 years of experience working in various jobs and i have never been fired from anywhere. even tho my resume and cover letters are solid because they have been approved my professional counselors (a free service for people under 35 where i live). so much for they're hiring everywhere...

since my vfx compositing skills are very niche and not really applicable to much else, i decided to go back to school, taking college classes in the admin and excecutive assistant fields, since it's something that i think would be good for me and there are lots of jobs for that here. i will be getting some financial aid, but it's nowhere near enough to survive. it will only cover my rent, and that's because my rent is super cheap for my city. my college classes start on september 30 and i am excited for it, but also very stressed because i still don't have a part time job.

i've been living on my own with a small salary for over 10 years now, but it truly is the first time that i'm struggling this hard. i honestly don't have anything worth selling except some taylor swift perfumes, which i sold this week. i also have over 6k of credit debt and another 4.5k of school loans left to pay. at the bare minimum i will need about $1.000 CAD/month to cover my other bills and expenses after rent, hence why the need for a job ASAP. i am desperate and my mental health has been a huge mess. this is why i decided to open my ko-fi accounts. not that i'm expecting much, but anything can help, i think.

i don't have much to offer in exchange, except gifs? i'm wondering if (cheap, low price) gif commissions are a thing? i have no idea know, but i set up a poll on my ko-fi page to see if anyone would be interested.

thank you for reading if you've made it here, it's appreciated 💖

#little aesthetic gif just for attention lol #signal boost #i have no idea how to tag this #kofi

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ponderingmoonlight · 26 days

Note

Hi hi hi! I've been missing Levi content for a while now so I hope you won't mind if I request one. Like reader is a high ranking officer (higher than him obv) and they kinda hated each other bc of his attitude and stuff but then she kinda saves him and they started realizing their feelings and stuff

Btw I hope you enjoy your vacation!

You're so right honey, that's why we're doing this right now

Levi slowly but surely falling in love with his commander aka you

Pairing: Levi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: Levi never understood you, always hated the way you drag your soldiers around while carrying yourself with ease. Until you're out on another mission together, until he is the one who needs to safe you...

Warnings: None really, enemies to lovers in a kind of hurried way since this is a one shot, don't expect full on making out because again, this is only a one shot. Fluff fluff fluff with little errors here and there since I didn't find the time to re-read

I hear y'all, dearest aot fans! If you'd like to read more about attack on titan, feel free to push this fanfic and let me know 🤍

The tension is thick enough to slice through it with your gear as the Survey Corps make their final preparations before heading into Titan territory. The mission is risky, with the odds stacked against all of you as usual, but that has always been the life of a Survey Corps member.

Especially yours. Being the Lieutenant Commander meant taking a lot of responsibility for everything that happened regarding titans and your soldiers, always having to decide between the sake of a mission and those innocent lives that trust you with all their heart. The voices around you roam through the way too crowded room hectically, turn into a hot mess of different opinions and strategies.

In the midst of the chaos, Levi Ackerman stands with his arms crossed, his icy gaze fixed on the woman issuing orders just a few feet away.

You are everything Levi dislikes in an officer: confident to the point of arrogance, with a sharp tongue to match. Your strategies are always sound, often brilliant, but you have a way of getting under his skin like no one else. As a higher-ranking officer, you are technically his superior, which makes his hatred grow even worse.

“Are you sure this is the best course of action?”

Levi’s voice cuts through the chatter, his tone edged with scepticism like usual when he talks to you.

You don’t even look up from the map spread across the table. It would have surprised you if Levi kept his voice low when it’s always him who contradicts you the loudest.

“Unless you have a better idea, Captain, I suggest you stick to what you do best: killing titans”, you reply dryly.

Levi’s jaw clenches in the most uncomfortable way, a wave of anger rushing through his veins just by hearing your confident tone.

“And what you do best is risking lives for the sake of glory.”

You finally meet his gaze, your eyes flashing with irritation. But even though you know him oh so well by now, he never fails to get on your nerves.

“I’m risking lives to save lives. You, of all people, should understand that.”

“I understand that, Lieutenant Commander,” Levi retorts, the title spat out like venom,

“but this mission is reckless. We don’t need to take unnecessary risks.”

“The greatest risk is doing nothing.”

Your voice is cold, authoritative. Without gifting him another glance, you turn your attention back to the map, effectively dismissing him.

He storms out of the room in order to calm down his pounding heart, the images of the past missions with countless dead soldiers running through his mind all at once. Levi simply hates the way you talk, how someone so intelligent can be so infuriatingly stubborn and goddamn beautiful.

Beautiful?

“I’m losing my fucking mind”, he mutters to himself.

-the day of the mission-

Everything went smoothly. Getting out of the city, not meeting anything but a few 7 meter class titans who get wiped out by your well-thought line-up. As usual you lead the charge, your orders sharp and precise as you direct the troops with your eyes scanning the area like a hawk. Levi is forced to stay close, not out of any sense of duty to you, but because he knows he needs to be there when your plan inevitably goes south.

And it does.

The titans come out of nowhere, an abnormal horde larger and more coordinated than you anticipated. The battlefield erupts into chaos with your soldiers scattered all over the place before you’re even able to think about an order. Within a few seconds, some struggle to follow your orders while others acting on instinct to survive.

Levi’s instincts scream at him to keep moving, to cut through the titans as he always did. But his eyes keep drifting back to you, holding your ground in the middle of the chaos with your ODM gear flashing as you maneuver between trees and slice through titan napes with deadly precision.

For a moment, he almost respects you. Almost.

But then, a rogue titan barrels toward you, faster than you could react. An abnormal you didn’t have the chance to see coming, aiming directly for your delicate neck. You turn around, eyes widening, realizing too late that you are out of time. You won’t make it.

Levi doesn’t hesitate. In a split second, he is there, blades slicing through the Titan’s nape with effortless precision. The massive body collapses, narrowly missing your frame as it crashes to the ground lifelessly.

For a second, you forget how to breathe. Blood rushes through your ears violently, your whole body starts shaking. This was the closest you’ve ever been to dying. Right here, on a mission that was supposed to be easy. If it wasn’t for him, you’d be gone by now.

Him.

You look at him, breathless, a mix of shock and something else, something unspoken, flickering in your eyes.

“You’re welcome,” Levi says flatly, retracting his blades.

Fuck, he hates the way his heart almost beats out of his chest. Seeing you almost getting dragged into the disgusting mouth of that demon, that glossy layer of fear glistening in your orbs. Truth is, he can’t imagine what life would look like without you. To be honest, just maybe, he somehow needs you in his life.

You don’t respond immediately, still catching your shaky breath. But when you do, your voice is softer, almost reluctant.

“Thank you.”

He gives a curt nod, about to move on, when another wave of Titans emerges from the trees, cutting off their escape. Fuck, you are trapped with no time to regroup or plan. For a split second, both of you exchangd a glance, a silent understanding passing between you.

In the matter of seconds, that minor spark of weakness disappears out of your orbs, gives way to the hardness of your determination. He can’t help but stare at you, that gorgeous face, how fucking strong you look.

There’s no time to stare at you like an idiot, though. You fight back-to-back, moving in a deadly dance of steel and blood. Levi’s movements are precise and brutal, while yours are fluid and strategic, exploiting every weakness you can find. It doesn’t matter if they are abnormal. At the end of the day, all of them are nothing but titans.

And the man fighting by your side? You allow yourself a single glance at him, how effortlessly he slices through each and every neck. He is the humanity’s strongest soldier, an inspiration even though you’d never say that out loud.

Together, you are unstoppable, a force that tears through the wave of titans with an almost terrifying efficiency.

But despite your efforts, the numbers are overwhelming. Your plan was brilliant, but it hasn’t accounted for this level of resistance. And now you are paying the price.

As you fight, your movements begin to slow, exhaustion creeping into your limbs. Levi notices immediately, his keen eyes catching the subtle tremors in your hands, the slight delay in your attacks. You are reaching her limit.

“Fall back,” Levi orders with sharp voice.

“We can’t retreat now,” you argue, even as your breath comes in ragged gasps.

“We need to—”

“You need to survive,” Levi cuts her off, his tone leaving no room for debate.

“You might be the Lieutenant Commander, but that’s an order. I can’t watch you die here. ”

For a moment, she hesitate, your pride warring with the reality of the situation. But the second you catch that look full of worry on his face, notice the pleading tone in his usual so cool voice, you nod. Together both of you retreat, your ODM gear carrying you away from the swarm of dreadful titans.

You land in a small clearing, both of you breathing heavily. For a long moment, you just stand there, surrounded by the unnerving quiet of the forest, the distant sounds of battle fading into the background.

“You saved my life back there”, you finally mumble into the silence.

Levi doesn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the ground. When he finally does, his voice is uncharacteristically soft.

“You would have done the same.”

You nod, a small, tired smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

“I suppose I would have.”

You just stand there in silence for a while, the adrenaline of battle slowly fading, leaving behind an unexpected calm.

It’s strange, Levi ponders, how the heat of battle has somehow cooled the bitterness between them. Somehow, he doesn’t look at you with hatred filling him up to the brim anymore. Somehow, your beautiful appearance doesn’t provoke him like it did before. In its place, something else holds onto his heart, something he isn’t quite ready to name. Is that…blush creeping up his cheeks?

“I’ve misjudged you. You’re not just a killing machine”, you mutter, your eyes meeting his with an intensity that hits him straight to the core.

Levi raises an eyebrow, too busy to stop himself from blushing to prevent that hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

“And you’re not just a reckless strategist.”

You chuckle, a sound that is surprisingly soft, almost gentle. He never heard you laugh, especially not this sincere. What a wonderful sound.

“Maybe we’re both wrong.”

“Maybe.”

Both of you lapse into silence again, but this time more comfortable, less charged with those countless emotions. How is it that a single battle chased away that thick tension of hatred you felt for him just yesterday? Somehow, all you feel now is respect and…

You swallow hard, hungry eyes staring at the ground. Somehow, you feel attraction. Out of instinct, you shake your head in determination, force some sense back into your mind. You’re the Lieutenant Commander, after all.

“We should get back to the others. They’ll need our help”, you finally speak out while getting up.

Levi nods, but before you move too far away from him, he reaches out, his hand briefly brushing against your arm. Your eyes dart up immediately, heart almost pounding out of your chest.

“Don’t be so quick to throw yourself into the fire next time. You’re no good to anyone dead” he comments with low but firm voice.

When you send a beaming smile his way, Levi almost forgets how to exist. If he had known how gorgeous your lips look, how well smiling suits you.

He’s lost.

“I’ll keep that in mind”, you reply with a sarcastic but warm tone.

-Bonus-

“They give me the ick”, Jean mutters under his breath.

“What? You mean Lieutenant Commander (y/n) and Captain Levi?”, Connie questions.

“Yeah. Didn’t they hate each other? I always thought I might be able to pull her…”

“Something between them changed, I guess”, Mikasa adds, the whole friend group staring at the both of you in sheer disbelief.

“Why are these kids staring at us so stupid”, Levi mutters under his breath, already on his way to confront those brats.

“Don’t.”

Gently, you grab his hand and pull him back towards you.

“Stay with me. That’s an order.”

“An order? You really think you can order me around?”

“Despite being your girlfriend, I’m still your Commander”, you tease him, now placing your hands against his chest.

“Maybe I’ll have to think about that again...”

Tags:

@lees-chaotic-brain @sanicsmut @levislegislation @istglevi-gotmesimping

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 10 months

Note

Could you do a scenario about Nemona, Penny and Arven with a real who has type null please? Maybe something about it transforming in Silvally?

YES NULL/SILVALLY TIME

I have one in Sword who I call "Bestie", and it's carried me through the Crown Tundra DLC. I want it in Violet so badly aaaa

Also this just reminded me of my fic that I wrote prior to Sun/Moon's release. Ya'll can give it a read if you so desire <3

That being said, this scenario will be like a sequel of sorts

........

Revealing Type: Null--or "Nully" as you've affectionately called it--to your friends was something you were initially nervous about...

But today was finally the day.

Moving away from Alola to attend school here in Paldea was quite the stressful journey, especially for your masked companion who had never know any place besides stark white labs and sandy beaches.

People kept warning you about how dangerous it was, but you never listened...and now your bond with the mysterious normal type has never been stronger.

Ever since you rescued it from an Aether Foundation facility that exploded due to its rampage, it put its trust in you and loved you unconditionally.

Learning the truth behind that supposedly "good" organization and its leader broke your heart. Although nothing devastated you more than realizing Nully had been held captive there as both experiment and prisoner.

You've tried researching its species, checking for notes and hacking into secret files the foundation kept under lock and key--and you discovered that Type: Nulls were basically created as "tamer" versions of Arceus, even having memory discs similar to the plates manufactured. They were meant to kill the Ultra Beasts should they invade Alola.

Instead, they went on a rampage (of course, that's what happens when humans try replicating a god's powers) and were confined to masks and put into cryogenic stasis. The whole project was deemed a failure.

As tragic as it was...you were relieved to have found Nully when you did and get it away from that horrible place.

Even so the mask still made it feel absolutely miserable, but unfortunately you couldn't find any further information on how to remove it without causing your precious Pokémon serious injury. There were no visible clamps to unlock, pulling it off would only cause it great pain, and cutting seemed too risky.

The only benefit was that it made Nully immune to critical hits, but the cons definitely outweighed the pros.

Maybe one of your friends knew more about the Type: Null species, and so you decided to call them all over for a picnic if they had free time.

All you could do was pray that they didn't lose their cool and scare your companion.

That's the last thing either of you needed.

Arven was the first to arrive, with Mabosstiff at his heels as usual, but he stopped dead in his tracks upon seeing the bizarre-looking Pokémon standing by your side. You could tell he was trying not to look too worried, considering the poor thing was hiding behind you now.

Still, it's obvious that he didn't have the slightest clue what he was looking at, so you explained everything to him: where you found Nully, why it looked like a rejected Arceus, and the memory discs you kept in a small folder.

So far, you haven't figured out how to utilize them in-battle. But despite the space they took up in your bag, you refused to throw them away.

"Are you sure there isn't a slot for these somewhere on its mask?" He stared at one of the floppy discs, before glancing back up at Nully, squinting. "It looks like there should be one."

"We've been pals for nearly three years, Arven..I'm pretty sure I would've found the slot by now if there was one." Shaking your head, you took it from him, sighing. "My only option is to get that thing off. The slot's probably on its body somewhere."

"Right...maybe there's a stomach hatch or-"

"¡Mira! You were right, Penny! They do exist!!"

"Nemona, slow down!! They're not going anywhere!!"

Hearing the shouts of two certain ladies from afar, you and Arven looked to see both Nemona and Penny coming over the horizon. The student council president was dragging the poor girl by the arm, with her stumbling to keep up and not lose her glasses.

When they arrived, Penny was dazed and annoyed as she scowled at Nemona, tearing her arm free of her iron grasp. But her attention was quickly set on the peculiar Pokémon who was cowering behind you yet again.

"Wow...I..never thought I'd see one up close before.." Adjusting her glasses, she gazed at Nully with interest.

"You've heard about them before?" You asked.

"Back in Galar, I found some top-secret stuff about Macro Cosmos trying to make their own instances. They literally stole the blueprints from the Aether Foundation."

"...yikes." Nemona remarked, tilting her head as she tried getting a better look at Nully herself. "It seems shy. Maybe a battle will help it-!"

"No battles, at least not right now." You smiled apologetically, patting it on the head as you looked at each other. "I know you're nervous, Nully..but it's okay. They're nothing like the jerks back in Alola who used to pick on us. They're my friends. You can trust them, I promise."

Nodding its head, it relaxed its haunches as it cautiously stepped away from your side, gazing at the trio and seeing their smiles, too.

They weren't looks of pity.

They seemed genuinely thrilled to meet it.

It stood there for some time, taking in everything you've said to it and thinking about how far it's come since you rescued it that fateful day.

Somehow, it knew it was always meant to be your companion--from the very moment you held it as it cried in the Pokémon Center, reassuring it that it's not a monster, but a sweet creature worthy of love and care.

Ever since then, your friendship has grew...and now it feels stronger, willing to put its life on the line for you if need be. Even though most of its powers have been concealed, it didn't feel like some weak and helpless lab experiment.

Oh no.

It was far from that now.

Thanks to your bond, it felt unbelievably strong.

So much so that....the normal-type realized an extraordinary change was imminent.

And you were about to witness it.

"Look! Nully's glowing, [y/n]!" Nemona pointed, her eyes widening as your companion was basked in a familiar light. "Is it evolving???"

"Oh my god...I think so." You gasped, never realizing the possibility of it evolving, but you're now certain that friendship is what triggered it at last.

The most noticeable thing were the cracks that started appearing all over its helmet, pieces of what you assumed was indestructible alien material falling apart. Nully shook its head vigorously, trying to get rid of it as much as possible.

Then it turned its attention to a nearby boulder, letting out a cry before performing a move similar to a Headbutt, ramming into it and letting the rock shatter the helmet completely.

At last, it was free.

When the glow faded, you and your friends gazed in awe as Nully looked back at all of you.

With its mask finally gone, what lied underneath it was a beautiful creature made of both nature and machine, with a beaklike mouth that smiled proudly.

"Nully...?" You murmured, stepping closer.

"Ally." It chirped, walking up to greet you.

Tears began forming in your eyes as your grin widened. "I can't believe it...friendship was all it took to-"

Suddenly, your rotomphone decided to ruin the sweet moment by flying out of your pocket.

It displayed a new entry in your Pokedex, and you grabbed it to read what it had to say, while Arven, Penny, and Nemona checked their own phones.

"I see, you're Silvally now." You gazed back up at Null--Silvally, watching it bow its head respectfully. With a small laugh, you mimicked the gesture, before petting it lovingly as you sighed. "Wow..."

You noticed one of the metal bolts on its face open up like a CD player, indicating that something had to go in there-

"Wait.." Remembering the memory discs, you took one out and held it up. "Do you want me to use this?"

Silvally nodded, although before you could do anything, Arven interjected.

"Hold on, which memory is that?"

"The Dark Memory. It probably just changes its type, but I believe this represents all the pain Silvally had to endure while being trapped in that mask, not knowing what it did wrong or why people shunned it for simply existing." You placed a gentle hand under your companion's jaw. "But now I think it's ready to turn that painful memory into power. So let's see what happens.."

"Silllllv!"

Carefully inserting the disc into the open slot, you watched as it closed up. Then you stepped back, seeing the colors and spikes on its body turn smoky black.

Even its eyes changed, and when they opened they looked even more menacing than ever.

And they stared directly at you.

With a low growl, it crept closer to you, while your friends held back..tense and worried that the pokedex entries were correct: this wasn't something you could so easily control.

There was probably a very good reason for the mask-

Yet any hostility Silvally seemingly expressed disappeared, as it smiled and licked your cheek affectionately, causing you to laugh once more. "Hey, that tickles! C'mere you!"

Hugging its neck, you grinned as you received even more kisses, hearing it purr with happiness. You petted its feathery crest, relieved that it completely trusted you now.

"Wow..it's way cooler than Arceus!" Nemona laughed. "Do you think I can battle it-??"

Silvally just shot her a wary look, and she immediately fell silent, a nervous smile on her face. "Haha, you're right. Not yet. But I swear we're gonna have an epic battle one day!"

"Yeah, one day. But for now, I have something special for this big guy."

"Sill?"

You managed to regain its full attention with a simple yet supereffective move of your very own:

It's called "chin scritches", something that none of your other Pokémon could resist receiving.

The mask obviously made it difficult for Silvally to receive proper affection back then...and you vowed to find a way to break it so you can do just that.

Now it was free of that awful and heavy thing, having a brand new life to look forward to: battles, friendships with other Pokémon, and more.

Even better?

Your three closest friends in all of Paldea were here to witness its evolution--a sign that despite all the odds...your bond was unbreakable.

#clanask #anonymous #pokemon x reader #pokemon scarvi x reader #pokemon scarlet x reader #pokemon violet x reader #pokemon nemona #pokemon nemona x reader #pokemon penny #pokemon penny x reader #pokemon arven #pokemon arven x reader #nemona x reader #penny x reader #arven x reader #type null #silvally

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nu1lst4rs · 3 months

Text

doodled human designs for a few neutral aus! (pt.1)

(click for better quality)

can you tell i lost motivation... thank you to chandr for doing the last 3's lineart for me. legit couldn't get freshs colours to fit with the rest. eugh. its the best you're going to get out of us for these guys.

Nightmares gang, star sanses, neu au pt.2, extras

COLOUR, CLASSIC, PAPYRUS, EPIC and ANY REQUESTS will be in the next neu au post 3_^ so please please request me to draw neutral peoples... gonna open general requests in a separate post.

some hcs under the cut!

warning for alot... i mean.. alot of text..

> Ccino (he/they)

indian... ccino... mbghbgb. MAINLY BECAUSE I WAS EATING GULAB JAMUNS AND I WAS LIKE "huh this reminds me of ccino."

trans masc! you should be more surprised if someone wasn't trans at this point

just for individuality, i feel like he'd have cat features. toe beans, tail, but no ears. personal preference.

hopeless romantic. wants to fall in love so bad, like so bad. but doesn't have anyone to fall in love with.

his AU is a neutral where the player killed all bosses. because of this, ink had offered them a pocket AU with just their cafè. ccino still visits their old au from time to time, but otherwise lives in the cafè.

one of the youngest AU's/sanses, only a few hundred years old

> error (he/they/xe)

spanish + colombian

as a divergence from classic, he maintains a similar body shape. also the fact he eats nothing but chocolate.

^ similarly, his eye is covered by a star glitch. xe never equates this to the fact they were geno, and just see it as some weird cool glitch.

rocks an alliance with both NM and dream, so wears both the stars pin and gangs patch. he always choses the side of who benefits him the most in that moment. neither of the groups are happy about it, but see error as too valuable to deny.

has arthritis and bad joints. his strings usually dig into his fingers, causing scaring and pain. (bsp related: he gets taught how to relieve these pains by nms gang because they all have chronic pains of some kind)

taking strings from his eyes is PAINFUL. its basically his unraveled code and magic combined, glitching and stuttering.

illiterate. he cannot read anything but code.

brother of ink. annoying brothers that HATE eachother. but love eachother at the same time.

> cross (they/he)

spanish. it fits him. and its relatively canon.

cross is indecisive. they've jumped between nightmares gang and the stars several times, easily being swayed. as of my AU right now, they're with the stars.

they're colourblind! their AU was monochrome, and thats how they see everything. everything is just a shade of purple. he's never told people about it, but most people catch onto ir.

autism. cross has horrible sensory issues, and gets overwhelmed easily. also bad at social queues.

THIS MAN IS THE DEFINITION OF DOG POETRY. they would go on pinterest daily and cry about it.

is a great artist. ink taught him the basics when they were stuck in the void, so they built on it. they're really self conscious about it, and keep their sketchbook locked away tightly. (in their bedside drawer)

> reaper (he/him)

egytpian. i feel like he'd embody their idea of dying.

bird claws. bird wings. everything bird.

seen as a parental figure to dream and nightmare because of his extensive knowledge of the universe and balance n all that.

(THE GAY FLAG WAS A MISTAKE) he's bi. and loves his wife. (life)

aroace spec! completely ace, and demiromantic.

sorry guys i dont have the best hcs for him 💔

> geno (he/they)

spanish + colombian

needs a portable oxygen tube to breath. he can live without it, but its really painful to not have it.

some parts of his body are decomposed, while others are held together through determination. practically constant agony.

same reasoning as error for body shape.

> fresh (they/it)

parasite. its ass doesn't have a race nor nationality.

not the hotest with a few sanses. dream and nightmare don't like someone demeanour not being affected in the slightest by the amount of pain and agony they're in. error hates how the code overlaps and glitches. and overall they're just a bit crazy.

wears either heelies or rollerskates. refuses to EVER walk anywhere, and always rolls.

i don't got much for him.

eugh. i am so sorry if the hcs are lazy, i am not good hcing with aus im not familiar with. if anyone wants to input please do! i'd love to learn about them. <3 anyways i am sleeping because i need to stop staying up till 4am..

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notafunkiller · 10 months

Text

treat you better

Summary: Caught between playing the girlfriend of Bucky's younger brother and the unexpected allure of Bucky's genuine affection, you don't know what to do.

Pairing: (fake) boyfriend's brother!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: age gap (r is 26, Bucky is 38/39), teasing, pet names, language, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 3.7K

story masterlist

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: This story will have around 4 parts, so this is just the beginning. And I also want to thank @marvelouslizzie and @lavenderhaze967 for their support!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

It’s hard to ignore how loudly he chews or how some water drips down his chin as he drinks between bites. For someone educated well, he has no manners.

“Come on, eat faster. He’s gonna come any second.”

You drop your fork on the plate and give him a look. As if! “I am not gonna do anything like that.”

He is his brother, not the devil. And he actually seemed pretty nice when you met earlier. The fact that William is so scared is funny.

“You don’t ever listen to me.”

“I wonder why.” Your sarcastic answer gets a sigh out of him before he stands up, throwing a napkin on the plate.

“I’ll take a walk.”

“And? Do you want my approval?” You literally couldn’t care less what he does or doesn’t. He’s annoying.

“No, I told you in case he comes down...”

You can’t imagine dealing with this version of him for days, or however long The Devil decides to stay. You snort. “Go ahead, take a walk. Take three walks, I can handle myself.”

He leaves without saying anything else, and you smile, scrolling on your Instagram feed. Fucking finally!

You don’t know how your families considered this a good idea. You are close to hitting him every day, but it seems like things only become worse and worse. You just wish you could just run away and never come back.

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

You look up, jumping. It must be ridiculous to be so shocked since he’s the only one who could come here since William left. You let the phone down and wave to the chair in front of you.

“Please, this is your house.”

The Devil gives you a polite smile. Manners... at least one brother has them. “But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You won’t eat me, right?”

He gives you a look you can’t exactly decode, and that bothers you. You are good at reading people usually.

“No, love, I won’t eat you.” He sits down amused, and you stare at his arms as he reaches for the chicken plate without realizing. He’s... big.

“Bon appetit!” You smile.

“I didn’t say I won’t bite, though.”

You freeze, thinking he is flirting with you for a second. But it’s ridiculous, there’s no way. Everyone spoke so highly of him: how he is always serious, how he’d be against this whole arrangement. No way he’d flirt with his little brother’s girlfriend. “Is the chicken not enough for you?”

He laughs softly, and you can’t help but stare at him a little more. He shaved and has a small cut right under his chin. Jesus, he is really hot! The little dimple, the eyes and that nose...

“Do what do you do?”

“As in for work?”

“Yep.” He empathizes the p in a very childlike way, which makes you wonder even more how old he is. You should totally ask William later.

“I work for my parents’ company,” you whisper ashamed. You always hate when you say that out loud, but, somehow, it feels even more embarrassing now. You can feel his eyes on you, but you don’t look at him.

“What do you do there?”

“Basic HR work.”

“Is the payment that low?”

You snort. “What?”

“You sounded, so I assumed...”

“It is a little low, not gonna lie. But I mean, no nepo baby judgement…?” You hesitate because you realize you don’t remember his name. Fuck! You and your bad memory.

“What? Why are you blushing?” He leans in, placing his elbows on the table to get closer to you.

How horrible can this situation get?

“I just... can I ask something?”

“I don’t know, love, can you?”

You roll your eyes. You know what? He deserves it.

“What was your name again?”

He doesn’t seem surprised or bothered by your question.

“Full name? James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky. Should I write it down in case you forget?”

He gently takes out a pen out of his front pocket and grabs your hand. You tremble a little as he starts to actually write his name on your wrist. The letters get a little smudged, but they’re still clear.

Holy fuck...

He’s warm, but not too warm, so you wait for him to let you go.

“Do you always carry pens around?”

“Only on special occasions.” He winks and gets back to eating, letting the pen on the table.

“How old are you?” You ask before you can change your mind as you keep staring at your wrist. He looks in his early 30s, and since he’s the oldest one, it would make sense.

“Didn’t Will tell you?”

You blush again. “You can see my memory isn’t the best.”

He sighs, suddenly shy and reserved, and you wonder if this is somehow a weak spot. But how would age be a weak spot for a man like this?

“Old.” He smiles. “Thirty-eight.”

You try not to look affected as your eyes drop instantly on his left hand. No wedding band.

And he notices.

“He didn’t tell you I’m single, either?”

You take a few slices of cucumber and eat them fast. “Why would he?”

“I’m his brother.”

You throat feels dry as you nervously swallow. “And I am his girlfriend...”

Bucky nods and immediately starts eating.

“That’s all?” You ask. “No threat not to hurt your brother? No background questions?”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-six.”

“I would have guessed twenty-five.”

You snort. “Really? I was told I look younger than that.”

Bucky shrugs in response. “I assumed you’ve been working for a while, and my brother likes them his age or older.” He pours himself a glass of water, and you watch him drink without any shame, not even caring if he notices. You’re already flushed, and he’s a good view.

“I guess I fit the standard.”

He bites his lip while placing the glass down and shakes his head. “Nope, actually you don’t, this is why it’s really interesting.” He smiles. “How did you two meet?”

“The office. He came with his... your dad and we met at an event,” you answer instantly. Your parents have already made up the story for you, and you had to practice it a few times to make it sound genuine, which was a real struggle.

“Was it love at first sight?”

You snort. “That doesn’t exist.”

“Attraction?”

You try to subtly take a deep breath and pray you’ll sound as convincing as you could. “Look, he seemed like a nice guy, good looking and smart. And he asked me out-”

“He asked you out?” His eyes widen in sheer astonishment. “He always waits for girls to ask him out.”

This is when you snap. What is this? An interrogation?

“And? He asked me out. People make exceptions sometimes, Mr...” you pretend you forgot his name again before you look at your wrist. “Bucky.”

“I understand. My bad, didn’t want to make you mad.”

You puff because his tone in everything but apologetic. “I am not mad!”

“No, obviously. Just like you didn’t pretend you don’t remember my name a second ago.”

You bite your cheek annoyed. “Do you not have something more important to do than this?” You gesture between you two.

Not a smart move, but you are exposed anyway.

“But this,” he copies your hands moves. “is fun. And I am just getting to know my little brother’s girl. Since we’ll live together and stuff.”

What?

“You plan on staying?”

Bucky raises his eyebrows. “Of course.” He smiles. “Where is William? I want to know more about how he asked you out.”

You can’t say you’ve been avoiding William, but you’re not necessarily enjoying his company. Since Bucky came, he’s been like a bomb, scared, annoyed, always suggesting you to move in his room because his brother will notice, but you brushed him off constantly.

Unfortunately, you can’t tell him to go away now, too, as he drinks coffee in his gazebo.

“Do you want to go out? For a walk or lunch,” he asks, his voice carrying a hopeful note

“No, thanks.” You don’t intend to sound rude, but it comes out like this anyway.

His face falls, a subtle disappointment etched across his features, but he tries to hide it by taking a sip of his coffee. Instantly, a pang of guilt hits you.

“Look, I’m sorry, I just... I just don’t feel like going out.” With you.

“Well, you should at least try to make an effort, we should be seen together, you know?” he remarks, his tone slightly reproachful. You nod, realizing he must be also pressured by his family the same way yours pressures you.

“I understand. I assume they put pressure on you.”

He sighs. “Of course they do, but like I think it’s a good idea.”

“What’s a good idea?”

You know it’s Bucky not only by the way William stiffens, but you can also easily recognize his voice, and it’s hard to ignore how attractive you find it.

“To go out more often,” you quickly say, avoiding his eyes. “I told him he should have fun since work has been stressful.”

“What about you?” He casually drops on the chair between you two and takes a bite from his sandwich.

“What about her?” William asks, , his tension evident in his voice.

“Don’t you need some stress relief?”

“I’m alright.” You finally look properly at him as you speak. He’s wearing a white tank top and his disheveled hair adds to the casual allure. He’s so well-proportioned...

“Good.” He smiles and turns to William. “What’s wrong, punk?”

“Just work, you know? Business, you wouldn’t understand.”

You and Bucky snort.

“Sure, buddy, I wouldn’t understand.”

“Are you having siblings time? Should I leave?” you ask, hoping for a positive response.

“Babe, no need.”

You try not to cringe at the way the word babe sounds coming from him and force yourself to give him a polite smile.

“Please, babe, no problem.” You stand up waving, toward Bucky. “Bye.”

Their brotherly time didn’t last long, though. You take a short shower, and as you finish dressing up, you hear a knock on your door.

“You can come in.”

You expect to see William's face when the door cracks, but no, it's not him at all.

“Hi.”

You freeze.

“H-hi.”

Fuck, what will you tell him now?

“Trouble in paradise?”

“What? No. Uhm...” you look around. “What happened?”

“You sleep here, right?”

“Yep.”

He leans his back against the wall, and you can't help but notice how good he looks in those shorts. Jesus, it's like you haven't seen a man in your life.

“Interesting.” He laughs.

“What’s so funny?” You cross your arms, annoyed. He thinks he’s superior or what?

“You are telling me you two have been together for less than six months and you sleep here?”

The judgement and amusement in his voice piss you off even more, as if the situation you are in isn’t bad enough.

“Yes, and?”

“And?” Bucky comes suddenly closer to you. “Are you seriously asking that?”

“Yes! I don’t see what’s your fucking problem. How does where we sleep concern you?”

“Can’t a man be curious?”

Fuck your curiosity!

“What if we didn’t wanna sleep together now and wait... does that make us less of a couple?” You let out your anger by screaming at him. You don’t think you’ve said anything more ridiculous than that because, sure, you respect everyone who wants to wait, but that’s not you. There's no way you'd get engaged or marry a guy without knowing what your sex life would be like. No way!

“I didn’t say that, but I know my brother, and he is not this type of person.”

You let a deep breath, finding it hard to take your eyes off his lips.

“What if I am?”

He doesn't answer you, simply moving his right hand to his back pocket and taking out a small perfume, then handing it to you. "I think this belongs to you."

Shit!

“Yes, thank you!”

“So you slept in my bed.”

The way he says it makes it sound like you had sex with him or something. But it still leaves you breathless.

You take the perfume from his hand. “Don’t worry, I changed the sheets.”

“See you at dinner, love.” He snorts, turning a little more toward you before opening the door. “You got taste, though. It smells wonderful.”

Maybe it’s the hunger or the lack of sleep. Otherwise, why would this make you angry?

“You look very well.” You roll your eyes as you imitate him before taking a sip of your water. Fuck him for coming here and disturbing you. It was enough you see him every morning and after work.

You hear a knock, then the door opens as soon as you put your bottle down. He didn’t even wait.

“Hi, love. How are you?” A few heads turn toward him and then you, and you groan.

“I’m well, thanks. Why are you here?”

Bucky shakes his head. “This is not a nice welcome.” And then he notices everyone. “Hello.”

You hear a few ‘hi’s, but he only focuses on you.

“Who are you waiting for?” You ask, and your thoughts immediately dart to Dana. He complimented her earlier, after all.

“My dad.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine, keep it a secret. I don’t care.”

“I’m serious.” He snorts. “What has gotten you so worked up? Did you eat your chocolate bar today?”

You puff, trying to keep your annoyance under control. “What’s this question? Are you my mom?”

You can't lie, though. The fact that he noticed your daily chocolate bar ritual makes you happy. Today, however, you didn't have time.

“I can be your dad.”

That makes you gasp.

“Bucky!” you whisper, and he leans in. “We are working here.”

“And?”

“And go away, you disturb us.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and gets behind your back, dragging your chair away from the desk.

“Barnes!”

Jessica laughs behind you. “Such an older brother behavior.” she says casually, and you frown. You don’t want people to consider him your older brother. Well, it’s obvious why they do, but it still bothers you.

“I need you to come with me.”

You sigh. “Don’t you see I am busy?”

“Come onnn!”

You tell Jessica you’ll be right back and manage to take your phone with you before Bucky drags you by the arm to the hallway. Dana looks up, surprised, but this time he doesn’t even turn his head toward her, guiding you to his dad’s office. Dana looks up, surprised, but this time he doesn't even turn his head toward her, guiding you to his dad's office.

“You brought me here to be your babysitter? You are 38, not 8. I am sure you can wait patiently for your daddy.”

He closes the door, and you try to control your breathing. Why does he make you blush so much? It’s been one month since you two met, and he still has this power over you.

“You have a big sassy mouth, love, that is for sure.”

You cross your hands. “And?”

“And what?”

“You won’t even deny you brought me here cause you were bored?”

“Nope. Why would I?”

And there he is, getting closer to you little by little. You have to fight the urge to step back.

“Instead you talk about how big my mouth is...” you murmur and he snorts.

“Quite a big mouth for someone with thin lips.”

Well, that is a low blow. You don’t even have thin-thin lips.

“You’re an asshole.” You try to leave quickly, but he stops you instantly, realizing that made you mad.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way at all. You have a spark.”

“I am working. I do actually work, Bucky. It doesn’t matter this is my family’s company.” You try not to yell, but it’s hard. “I get you’re bored, but-”

“I am sorry.”

“For what?” You voice is a whisper, as you’re still trying to calm down. You’re surprised he apologized so fast.

“For being like a douche. It’s the opposite, I wanted your company because you are really nice and smart. I love our conversations. And you having a big mouth means to me you have an opinion and limits.” He takes your hand and squeezes it.

As he speaks, you can't help but feel a mixture of warmth and confusion. His sincerity catches you off guard, and the tension between you begins to shift. Maybe, just maybe, there's more beneath the surface of his teasing and provocation.

You nod. Maybe you overreacted, he never said anything offensive to you. And you appreciate his company in that house.

“It’s okay, I understand. I am surprised you are here, though.”

He doesn’t let go of you hand, so you don’t either.

“He said he has an offer for the office renovation.” He shrugs. “I cannot refuse without talking first. It wouldn’t be fair.”

You want to answer him, tease and maybe fish for more, but you hear the voices right outside the office and you let go of his hand immediately. As if it burned you, as if you were doing something forbidden.

William steps inside first, followed by his dad and your dad, surprisingly.

Bucky immediately gives you a look and takes a step back.

“You came!” His father welcomed him before turning to you. “Thanks for bringing him to my office.”

You realize this is your clue to go and you slowly walk to the door, intentionally ignoring your father. What shocks you is William grabbing your hand, the same hand Bucky touched before, and kissing your cheek.You realize this is your cue to go, and you slowly walk to the door, intentionally ignoring your father. What shocks you is William grabbing your hand, the same hand Bucky touched before, and then kissing your cheek.

“Thanks, babe.”

You have to clench both of your fists not to punch him in the face, refusing to answer him. You don’t know what bothers you more: the fact that he touched you so casually and called you babe again or that he did this shit in front of your families, and more important his brother.

You feel Bucky’s eyes all over your back and face and you can’t help but turn to look at him. He’s expressionless.

You shake your head. What did you expect?

You get back to your office a little grumpy and upset. Jessica immediately asks you if you’re okay, and you brush it off. Fuck your family, fuck Bucky, and fuck his brother.

But the meeting is surprisingly short since you have Bucky back at your desk fifteen minutes later.

You just can’t take a break, can you?

“What?”

“Shouldn’t you have lunch?” He looks around to emphasize his words, and you roll your eyes. You know everyone left but you.

“I have to finish a few tasks. Why?”

“Your boyfriend left the meeting halfway through cause he was hungry.”

You almost gag. You’ve never hated that word more in your life, but you can’t let him know that.

“And?”

“What do you mean and? Why are you not having lunch with him?”

“Because I have tasks to do!” You snap, irritate, while looking him in the eye. You obviously don’t want to talk about it, but he continues, seemingly unfazed.

“Is he gonna bring you some food?”

“No, we didn’t even talk about it. Can you leave me alone now?”

You are so close to crying for no fucking reason. You can’t let anyone see you like this.

“Prick! He should have waited for you.” He strokes his chin as he speaks, clearly annoyed with his brother. “Want to come with-”

“I’m fine. Had my chocolate bar.” You interrupt him, your voice steady despite the emotional storm within. Finally, he takes the hint.

“Okay, love, I understand. I’ll leave you alone. See you home.” He smiles politely and leaves, giving you the space you need.

Alone in your office, you let out a shaky breath, your hands covering your face as you start sobbing. It’s really touching how understanding Bucky is, even if he’s teasing you. It’s a precious reminder that, amidst the chaos, there's someone who actually cares about your well-being.

You wait for William to return from his lunch break, and as soon as you see him, you drag him to his office quickly

“Easy! It hurts.”

“Good, it’s supposed to hurt!”

“What did I do?” He genuinely asks.

“You fucking touched me. You kissed my cheek. Did I allow you?”

“What?” He raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t remember seeing you so angry before.

“I asked you when I gave you permission to put your hands on me!”

“I’m supposed to be your boy-”

“But you are not my fucking boyfriend! You don’t have the option to touch me unless I let you by telling you that you can. And you don’t even have to display a shitty facade because guess what? He doesn’t care.”

“Look, I didn’t mean to...”

“You didn’t mean to what? Get in my space? Take advantage of the situation?” The bitterness in your tone echoes your frustration. “You’re just a man, that’s what you do.”

“Not all-”

You laugh humorlessly, not even a little surprised. “Not all men, right? Well, I heard that one before. But you are officially in all-men category.”

You leave like a storm, letting the door open, and before you can get back to your desk, Dana calls your name.

“Hi, what happened?” You try to sound calm.

“You got a delivery and a note.” She hands them both to you and you can’t help but ask:

“A note?”

Who writes notes anymore?

“Yes.”

You take them from her desk, but you don’t enter your office. You want to read the note first, without Jessica’s eyes on you.

If you don’t eat, I’m gonna punish you... with my presence. So think twice before refusing :)

You almost cry again right there in the middle of the hallway. Fuck him! Just fuck him!

How are you supposed to stop thinking about him when he does this?

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #boyfriend's brother!bucky barnes #fake dating #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes au #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #my stories #my fanfics #sebastian stan

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agendabymooner · 10 months

Text

SOMETHING MISSED !!! ALEX A. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: she missed him, that was why they got into an argument that led him to make it up after walking out on her.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), hurt/comfort-ish, argument + alex walking out, use of explicit language, p in v penetration, unprotected sex (a big no no to me but i can’t help it), cockwarming, mentions of aftercare, not proofread

song rec: 13 by lany

note: i said i was going to nap before pulling an all nighter. i’m also a bitchass liar and wrote this in the span of 40 minutes looooool! i pitched this idea to @daaiissyyyyy few days ago sooooo uh enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out!

they’ve never fought like that before and they couldn’t lie to themselves about that.

they were so used to being around each other for so long that “being busy for the other” was just a foreign concept for the two. and having an argument until one of them would walk out?

yeah. they hadn’t expected that either. she certainly hadn’t expected alex to walk out, of all people. he was usually calm and collected as much as she was, but everyone knew that he wouldn’t be the first to head straight to his friends so he wouldn’t lose it on her.

she blamed herself for how things had turned out. she knew all too well that he was busy, yet she continued to pester him and had given up and voiced her frustration. she hadn’t seen him for weeks— thanks to his triple header and her busy schedule at the university.

and when she finally expressed her concern, he didn’t hesitate to say how upset he was for the fact that she wasn't able to be there for his races— how going back to university had affected their relationship.

“you’re a dickhead for that,” george told alex after the thai driver arrived in front of his front porch and they spoke over a bottle of wine. george only scoffed at him, “she loves you despite your constant travelling for your career— and you’re unhappy for her decision to pursue hers? absolute rubbish, alex.”

and to be fair, george was right; alex shouldn’t be acting like she hadn’t been there for him since they were young. it was her time to choose her own path to success— and he shouldn’t be acting like a right asshole because she had a dream too. instead, he should be there to love her.

and that was how he found himself shutting the door of their flat quietly, trying not to wake her up despite being a heavy sleeper. he hoped to hop out of his clothes and into his pajama so he could get up tomorrow and speak to her.

but it seemed liked their conversation would have to happen now as a head popped up from the couch, frazzled hair and puzzled look on the woman’s face as she squinted lightly and called, “alex?”

“he- hi,” alex said softly, his brow raising as he wondered what she was doing on the couch.

now reading the expression on his face, she sat up and smiled sadly, “i- uh, i didn’t know if you were coming back tonight or staying at george’s so… i waited.”

alex nodded in understanding before he made his way around the couch. his eyes immediately trailed down the blue lace nightgown that she wore, her legs propped to the side as he realized that she’d been sleeping on the couch.

she immediately scooted and allowed him to sit next to her. alex pulled her legs and rested them on his lap.

he sighed, “i’m really sorry for walking out like that.”

“no, if anything i should say sorry,” she smiled apologetically, “i- i know the season’s been rough. the points are weighing down on you and i shouldn’t have been complaining.”

“you’re entitled to voice out your worries, baby,” alex’s fingers innocently traced over her legs as he murmured, “i was just being a dickhead about it.”

“i just— i missed you so much,” she said quietly, alex’s ears perking up in curiosity and worries as she continued to speak, “school work is draining and- i don’t know. i just miss you— i miss your cuddles and just… your touch.”

“i’m here now, my love,” alex pulled her on his lap as his fingers lightly gripped on her hips.

out of desperation, she immediately grounded herself against his lap as alex moaned lightly as the friction in his jeans. “fuck…” alex said almost breathlessly, “i’ve got to make it up to you, baby.”

“o— hah~ fuck alex~ ‘m so full,” she cried quietly, her legs growing tired as she continued to bounce up and down his cock. the sensitive spot inside of her overstimulated as alex groaned in pleasure, his hands were sure to leave a mark as he continued to grip on her hips.

“did you miss that, baby?” he said breathlessly, his hands now guiding her as his hips began to thrust up and his cock began pistoning inside her cunt. she only let out a whine as alex chuckled, “you miss my cock inside of your cunt, sweetheart?”

“fuck, baby, yes,” she nodded eagerly, her tits bouncing in front of him as she babbled, “missed your cock— miss your cock inside my pussy- i missed this— fuck! please~”

“what do you want, baby?” alex let out a low moan, “tell me what you want. god, princess, you feel so good around me.” he growled quietly as he felt her clenching around his girth.

he really had missed this.

“i’m gonna- ah! fuck, baby,” she sobbed, tears of pleasure falling down her cheeks as she babbled, “‘m gonna cum. want you so bad- please, please, fuck me harder alex i- hah! fuck!”

alex didn’t spend that much time considering her request, his hips were now off the mattress as he began to thrust rapidly and roughly. the tone of their moans and rhythms of skin slapping were making music, producing a sound of love to make up for.

she let out a high pitched chant of, ‘yes’ and ‘fuck’ as her walls clenched around his cock. alex’s groans tuned down to a lower octave as they both chased their highs.

“fuck, baby,” alex groaned as he finally slowed down, filling her cunt full with his cum as she let out a strangled whine. her cunt throbbed around him as they slumped down on the bed.

or rather, alex slumped down on the mattress while her body limped on top of him. she sighed, exhausted like he was.

he tried to pull her away from his cock as he whispered, “baby, we gotta clean you up—“

“no,” she murmured and pleaded, “just… just hold me.”

“are you sure? baby, ‘m still inside of you,” it wasn’t anything that alex would be against, but he was more worried for her at the moment.

“‘s okay, i- uh,” she looked up at him with a flushed face and a tired smile, “it’s warm— keeps me warm… i like it.”

“are you sure?” with another nod from her, alex finally accepted his newfound love for this closeness as he sighed and kissed her head. “okay. let’s… stay like this then.”

yeah… he could get used to holding her like this.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan

♡ moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1

#alex albon imagine #alex albon x reader #alex albon x you #alex albon smut #formula one smut #f1 smut #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #alex albon #aa23 #formula 1 #formula 1 smut #formula one fic #f1 #♔ something sinful ⎯ f1 smut

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artist-issues · 2 months

Note

Hi! First off, I want to say that I love how you analyze media and having really been enjoying reading all your posts :) I just wanted to ask—do you have tips for people who what to learn to think more critically about media and just storytelling in general? Like, are there questions that you usually ask yourself when looking at a character's journey or the messaging behind the movie? Just trying to learn how to better analyze the media I consume, as well as improve on pinpointing the specific reasons why I like the movies that I like, instead of just saying "Well, I liked it. It was great" and leaving it at that 🙈.

New favorite question!

I love that you want to know why you like something. I love it. I think so many people are ready to give a defense for why they dislike something, and the blood-sport of “picking it apart,” but then they don’t really know how to reverse the process and be like, “here’s why I liked this other thing,” or they can’t speak accurately and clearly about why they like something, which is a huge shame, and sort of raises other questions about critical thinking but you’re not doing that! So you’re already awesome!

I am not an expert. I could be 100% wrong about everything I do, and all the questions I ask. I only went to a normal amount of education for this. It does not mean I have all the insight and the good advice.

BUT you asked, and I love talking about it, so it’s going to be long, and here’s what I do:

Step 1. I Just Watch the Movie.

That’s it. Just take it in. No expectations. Do not try to figure out what’s wrong with it or what’s right with it. Don’t even assume there’s such a thing as “right” or “wrong” the first time you watch it. It is THE hardest thing to do, once you gain some “knowledge” of storytelling. But truthfully, if you go into a story with your eyes and ears open for flaws, or a checklist of “Right Things to Do,” then you’ve already lost any objectivity. You’ll be so busy going “good thing, bad thing,” that the movie will never be able to establish an “emotional train of thought,” with you. Because you’re already taking it piece by piece, like eating a burger one ingredient at a time, instead of taking a full bite. It’s meant to be one-successive-thought/feeling-on-top-of-another, but you’re picking it apart before it’s over.

Plus, you’re not letting the story do what it was meant to do—get under your mental guard. And that’s the whole point of stories. So in a way, if your Critical Analysis Cap is already conciously on, even the best movie in the world won’t come off as the best movie in the world. C.S. Lewis talks about this in one of his essays. I’ll try to simplify it:

You can’t decide if you like something or dislike something until after you’ve eaten it. You certainly can’t really experience “what ingredients it’s made of” before you’ve eaten it. You can make some observations about a food without ever putting it in your mouth and experiencing it—I can look at a brownie and go, “there’s chocolate in there.” I can cut into it and go, “oh, but it’s tough.” But I haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of experiencing that brownie until I just shut up and put it in my mouth.

That is the hardest part and the part I suck at the very most. My suckiness at this part is why my friends hate watching movies with me. But on some level, you have to suspend your worldview, your opinions, and try to just listen.

It’s also why (this is just an aside) I struggle when people recommend a movie to me. Because they usually go, “what do you think of this movie?” And then I say, “I haven’t seen it.” And then they go, “oh you should watch it!” And I know for a fact that they’re going to ask me how it was, and my answer needs to be prepared—so then I’m already handicapped before I even try it. But it can’t be helped. And that’s just food for thought.

Step 2: “What Are They Trying to Tell Me?”

The only thing you need to think, when you go into analyzing a movie, before anything else, is, “They are trying to tell me something.”

That’s it. It’s just active listening, but in a movie. I think that’s like 90% of it. And so many people don’t know how to do that—in life, in conversation—let alone when they watch something. It’s the movie-watching equivalent of “stop thinking about what you’re going to say or how you’re going to respond to me, and just listen to what I’m saying.”

Remember, the whole storytelling team behind a movie or the writer of a novel sat down in front of a blank piece of paper. There was nothing there. They made several hundred thousand tiny and huge decisions to put something in front of you. Almost nothing you see in the story is there on accident. Because none of it would be there if they didn’t decide to transplant what they were thinking and feeling into you.

That’s all a movie is. That’s all a story is. It’s communication. It’s an essay. It’s a sermon. It’s a song. You can figure out what it means—but only if you start out by accepting, on good faith, that it means something.

I’m not saying every story of movie will have a well-thought-out meaning. I’m saying, you’re going into it as if it does. In good faith. And then the storytellers will either reward that good faith because they had something to say—or they’ll let you down. But you go in assuming they won’t let you down, that this is an agreed-upon conversation you two are having.

That takes a level of humility I don’t always have. Because if I know Christopher Nolan is directing a movie, at this point, it’s hard for me not to go into that movie with the story-version of this mindset: “well, I know he’ll have a lot of ‘big words’ to use, but nothing to actually say.” It’s hard to do.

But you have to do it, or else the risk of you projecting what you believe the movie is about onto it, or missing the meaning entirely, is astronomically high. You’ll watch a Disney Princess movie that’s total trash (I can’t stop coming for Wish) and you’ll see everything you’ve always wanted to see in it—because you’re projecting what you hope they’re saying onto the movie (when actually they were saying something very silly.) Or you’ll be like me watching The Dark Knight for the first time and trying desperately to wrestle my brain into “believe he’s trying to say something to you and not just snag your emotions on meaningless twists”-mode the whole time.

And the best way to figure out what they were trying to tell you is to start with where they succeeded in making you feel something. Wherever they succeeded, that’s where you’ll start looking for clues.

Step 3. What Did You Feel?

Sometimes you have to skip this step because you couldn’t get Step 1 right. You couldn’t just watch the movie, you were “out of the movie,” the whole time you were watching it. Sometimes that’s not your fault—sometimes a movie is so bad or so disingenuous that you can’t do Step 1, and you have to settle not for “What Did You Feel?” (Because you felt nothing) but “What Did They Want Me To Feel?”

…But if you were able to just watch it and it made you feel something, then this step is about analyzing that.

I recommend starting with a movie you watched when you were a kid—because kids almost never fail at Step 1. Their brains are sponges. Your brain was a willing sponge, you believed that the story was telling you something and you took it in without any conscious thought.

So like, if you felt like crying during the scene in Inside Out where Bing Bong fades away, or you did cry, ask yourself “why?”

The first answer to that question will be “because I liked Bing Bong and now he’s gone, and that’s sad.”

The second one will be: “because I miss my imaginary friend/because I miss my childhood/because I wish I didn’t have to lose memories of good things” etc. And all of that’s true.

But dig deeper. Because that’s exactly how the storyteller wanted you to feel. Reverse-engineer it. Figure out how they accomplished that goal.

Because we all had play-pretend characters when we were kids. We all had childhood friends who aren’t with us anymore. I guarantee you none of them looked like cotton-candy chimeras with hobo jackets. So why did you respond to Bing-Bong’s death as if you were losing something personal? How did they get you to believe that was happening, enough to make you sad, about a character you met an hour ago?

Because you got to know him well over the past hour. You got to know things about him that were easy to believe, things that were in common with your life experiences. You know what he wants, what he doesn’t like. You know where he was hoping to go, and what he was afraid of.

That ties into the next point, but you can do this with things that don’t have anything to do with the character—the other things that make up a movie.

What music was playing during the part where you Felt Something? Was that same melody or motif in another part of the movie—and if it was, what was happening in that part? Are they connected somehow?

What color predominates the screen during that part?

What is the lighting like? Does anything make the lighting different than what we’ve seen so far? Is the lighting creating interesting shapes—how would you describe those shapes?

Where are we? Is it a significant location? What makes the location significant?

Are we losing something? Why does it feel like a loss? Are we gaining something? Why does it feel like a gain? What was missing before that we’re glad is here now?

Those are just a few questions. Because remember, by answering them as honestly and simply as you can, you’re figuring out that the storytellers chose those things, and you’re figuring out why that was the right choice.

Do some compare-contrast: when Bing Bong fades away, what color is he turning before disappearing?

Deep blue, almost purple, right? If you can’t figure out why that would be a good choice, do some compare-contrast. What if the color he was vaguely dissolving into was green? That would look kind of sickly, or it would evoke feelings of “poison gas.” Weird for a moment that’s supposed to be sad. What if the color was yellow? Joy is yellow, in the movie. So pretty directly, that would be the wrong color because it would be kind of pretty, and it would make the audience feel a little “ooo” like they do when the Beast transforms in yellow light. But blue? Who’s blue in this movie? Sadness. Obviously. Sadness is blue—it’s very human to respond that way. You can do that same “what-if, compare/contrast” with the answer to every question on that bullet point list.

“When Genie is set free and I Felt Something, the location it’s in is on the throne room balcony. Well, why? Why’d the storytellers pick that? Because that’s where they were after the final battle, yeah, but that final battle could’ve been anywhere. Why didn’t the final battle with Jafar finish by having everybody in the throne room? Well, if it had been in the throne room, there would have been a lot of destruction from the final battle laying around. Having ruins behind Genie while he looks all sparkly and triumphant would’ve been a little odd. Plus, there would’ve been a roof. Would he have gone “I’m freee—hee!!” and flown out a window? That might’ve felt silly. But out on the balcony, he’s looking sparkly and triumphant against an open sky. Ohhh, an open sky makes you think of endless opportunity. That’s so smart. Even my subconscious was convinced, by the sky behind him, that something momentous and liberating was happening in this scene. And not just for Genie, but Aladdin is finally being “freed,” too, because they know who he is and love him anyway, and Jasmine is being ‘freed,’ too, because the law—“ Okay that’s enough, you get the idea.

Let’s go into the really fun part.

Step 4. I Look At The Characters

A good storyteller uses something that the audience can relate and empathize with for their main focus. And that’s usually a character (doesn’t have to be. You can describe a tree with personification in a poem, and a human will empathize with that tree’s “life,” or situation, and boom—suddenly you have a story.)

A super talented writer I know named @doverstar once wrote an entire story from the perspective of I think a paperclip? And I still remember it to this day. (Specifically I remember a crazy straw wrapper in the story, but you get my point.)

SO! Characters are the easiest and best way for a storyteller to get the person they’re trying to communicate with to engage. Which means, looking at characters is the easiest avenue to understand a story by. Usually, the storyteller jammed the whole message of the story into their characters in neat, interesting little packages. You just have to unpack them.

Here’s how I do it, roughly:

A. Figure Out What the Character Wants

In my post about The Lion King, I said Simba wants to be free to do whatever he wants all the time. And that’s true. But how did I figure that out? I’ll show you. It’s plain, because the storytellers wanted you to know.

Look At Dialogue - What a character says almost always gives you hints to what they want—even if they never say what they want out loud. Kids are most likely to say it, point-blank. So cub-Simba says, “But I thought a King could do whatever he wants.” But adults usually don’t say exactly what they want, because by that time, they’re either confused about what they want or they’re insecure about what people will think of what they want—whatever. The point is, pay attention to what a character says. Simba also sings, later, “free to do it all my way!” You can also find a lot out by what a character doesn’t say. Aladdin could’ve said, “yeah, well, at least I’m not a pompous jerk!” when Prince Achmed calls him “worthless.” That would’ve been more of his gutsiness, and he would’ve been right, like a hero should be when calling out a bully. But it wouldn’t have told you anything about what he thinks about what Achmed just said. Instead, he goes, “I’m not worthless!” …People who really believe obvious things don’t say those obvious things. Because they’re obvious. So when Aladdin says, to a closed door and an empty street, “I’m NOT worthless,” you realize that he’s just trying to convince himself. What he means is, “I don’t want to be worthless, and I don’t want to be seen that way.” Because on some level, he is afraid that he is worthless. See how you can tease that out based on what Aladdin says? Then it makes sense that, from that moment on, Aladdin does everything to prove he’s not worthless, or to make people believe he’s not—he goes to great lengths to preserve that image. That’s his motive. Just like Simba disobeys his father and Zazu because he wants to prove he’s a powerful Prince who can do whatever he wants. That’s his motive at the beginning of the movie. You can also learn a lot about what a different character says about another character. And whether or not they’re portrayed as right or wrong. When Prince Achmed says Aladdin is “worthless,” you don’t believe him. He’s drawn in gross curvy lines and he whips children and kicks poor people. You’re not inclined to believe he tells the truth, on top of all that. So the storytellers don’t want you to think Aladdin is worthless—they want you to believe that Aladdin thinks he’s worthless, on some level.

Look at Actions - Actions do speak louder than words. When a character is presented with a decision to make, look at what road they take.

Look at what that says about them. For example, when Andy Dufresne chooses to play music for all the people at Shawshank, even though it’s definitely going to get him in trouble, or when he dares to approach and talk to the abusive prison guard just for a few beers, you learn something about him. It might be confusing, and it might take cross-referencing that action with the fact that he’s digging himself a way out while everyone else is accepting their sentence. But you’ll see that he could have just done what everybody else did. Got through his sentence with the bare-minimum of work. Kept himself busy with any old thing. But that’s not what the storyteller has him do. The storyteller had him continue to bring new, life-lived things into the prison. He creates a space for people to learn and better themselves, he wheedles beers in just for the enjoyment of them, he’s beaten for the sake of music being played. The idea is that he’s going to keep pushing and living, reaching for more, instead of settling, like a man who’s already dead. So then by the time he digs his way out of Shawshank, you believe it. You’re like, “yeah, Andy would do that. I’ve seen him go to great lengths to live this whole time.” Through his actions, and the actions he doesn’t take even when he could, you figure out his motive.

Watch for the Change - Not every character changes. But when a character starts saying something that’s opposite to the kinds of things they said at the beginning, take note. When the character starts doing something they wouldn’t or couldn’t do at the beginning, take note. Miles Morales tries to jump off a building as his first test of being Spider-Man, and he can’t, he goes to a shorter building. Later in the movie, he jumps upside-down off of one. The change in action demonstrates a change in motive—he used to be focused on not-failing. Now he’s focused on taking action.

I’m sorry, I know this is already a long post, but wanna see it all come together?

(Dialogue) On Miles’ first day in class a girl points out that his shoes are untied, and Miles says, “I know. It’s a choice.” He leaves his shoes untied on purpose. (Action.) He also tries to fail in school on purpose. (Action and Dialogue: His teacher spells it out with her dialogue “You’re trying to quit. And I’m not going to let you.”) Then later when Mils tries to run and jump off a short building as Spider-Man, his shoes are still untied. Why? He does things sloppily on purpose. He leaves his shoes untied the same way he tries to fail tests he knows he can pass—because it’s easy. Because you can’t fail at something risky if you don’t try. So he trips and falls off the building. (Action.) That’s Miles’ motive. He’s got “Great Potential,” but he could succeed, but he chooses not to because he’s afraid of failure. Then later, when he leaps headfirst down a skyscraper, did you notice his shoes? They’re tied. (The Change.)

All from a pair of shoes.

Someone had to draw this kid’s shoes, before anyone knew what he would be wearing, and decide why it mattered. Someone had to pick what dismissive line a kid would say to him on his first day of school—and they had to pick exactly what words he would use to respond.

They’re trying to tell you something. All you have to do is believe that, and then you’ll start to not only hear what they’re saying, but appreciate how they choose to say it.

B. Figure out Who a Character Is

This one you can find clues for in the same three things: Dialogue, Actions, The Change. (If there is a change. There isn’t always.)

A character like Stitch is easy to analyze. Other characters straight up say (Dialogue) “You were built to destroy, you have no place among us, you wreck everything you touch, there is nothing inside you that is good.” Then he makes abominable choices (Action) pushes little girls down, rips up toys, chews on the heads of other aliens, actively tries to murder alien cops. But he also looks sad after a night of destroying things (Actions) and asks Lilo to explain to him a book about an ugly duckling (Dialogue? He sort of grunts.) So you’re starting to notice solid character traits: Stitch is evil, Stitch likes being evil, but Stitch feels empty being the way he is. Then when the Change comes, it’s meaningful, and it gives you a hint as to what the storytellers were trying to say.

You get a sense of what Stitch would do, what Stitch wouldn’t do—and you can ask why. With Stitch, it’s just because that’s how he was created by his literal creator. But with other characters, like Cinderella, you’re given background. Her parents taught her to be good and kind regardless of her circumstances. So then when her circumstances get worse and worse, and she chooses to hang on to what she was taught even when the parents are gone, that’s a big deal. And what happens as a result of that “big deal,” what happens as a result of “who the character is” and their “motive,” is our next step!

Remember, you can do this for almost all of the characters. And whichever character gets the most screen-time, what they’re doing during that screentime—all of those things matter.

Step 5: Look at What The Storytellers Reward & Punish

People mess this step up because they mess up Step 2. They forget that the storytellers are trying to tell them something—something specific, something with parameters—and they just start reading their own ideas and reasoning into the characters.

Prime example: people blaming Admiral Holdo for Poe’s actions in Star Wars: The Last Jedi. The whole movie, Poe is doing things that are understandable, but ultimately, foolish. His Character Actions are coming from his Character Motives—which are flawed. Poe believes he should always stand and fight and do what’s heroic. There’s a little pride that goes with that—that he has to be the one to make the stand, or at least to know that there is a heroic plan. But every time he takes these actions, something bad results from it.

Disobeys Leia and Bombs the Dreadnaught -> Every other Pilot dies, and the ship is being tracked anyway. Leia slaps him and tries to tell him to learn a different lesson. Sad or intense music plays. One of the other main characters is majorly negatively affected by the death of her sister in this bombing run.

Sends Finn & Rose on a Mission Without Trusting His Superiors With the Plan -> They Don’t Make It and Nearly Die. His Superiors Trust Him Less.

Staged a Mutiny Necause He Doesn’t Trust Any Plan That’s Not Heroic, Especially if They Didn’t Tell Him First -> The Real Plan is Almost Foiled, Leia Stuns Him.

But some people see all that and they don’t willingly accept that the filmmakers are telling you Poe is in the wrong. They impose the fact that they like him, and they don’t like the purple-haired lady, over the narrative—against all reason, against all odds. They’ve stopped taking in the story, and they’re writing fanfiction before it’s even over. They believe Poe is in the right—if Admiral Holdo had just told him the plan, he would’ve gone alone with it! None of this had to happen!

Actually, the storytellers prove the opposite of that: that Poe would’ve been furious and put a stop to a life-saving plan, because he hates running away. But people are spinning out into “what SHOULD have happened,” or removing one tiny piece of the story and blowing it up and out of context, and judging the whole story on that. If you’re not a big Star Wars fan, consider this: I’ve seen people argue that in Beauty & the Beast, the Enchantress is the real villain and the Beast and his castle are the victims. This is ridiculous. Clearly, the storytellers are telling you that the Beast was in the wrong and the Enchantress was in the right.

They’re telling you this because they design the Enchntress beautifully. They align her with virtues like “value love, be kind to others, be humble,” and they introduce the beast to you with “sneered, selfish, spoiled, unkind, no love in his heart.” They straight up tell you that in the narrator’s voice. You have to believe them, in good faith, if you want to understand what they’re saying.

What about when there’s no voiceover narrating what’s good and bad? No problem. Look at other things. Like I said, look at how Poe is made a fool of by a benevolent and beloved character (Leia) whenever he makes decisions that the storytellers want you to see as bad decisions. Look at the lighting, the location, the colors, and the music during scenes where consequences of a characters’ actions are coming.

That’s what you’re looking for. What does the movie say is good, and what does the movie say is bad? What does the movie say is true, and what does the movie say is a lie?

At the beginning of E.T., the main character is disliked by everybody, including his older brother, because he only thinks of himself and how he feels. By the end, when the kid has taken such careful care of E.T. and reveals it to his big brother, his big brother wants to help him. They’re all brought together. Because the main character stopped doing something that the storytellers disapprove of, which is “thinking only about how you feel,” and he started “thinking about how other people feel” for a change. In the beginning of the movie, he’s lonely, angry, standing in shots that are wide and empty. By the end, he’s flying, beautiful music is playing, and he’s happy. The storytellers reward what they’re trying to convince you is good and right.

Step 6: Are the Storytellers Right?

I always stress remembering this last part. It’s all well and good to lower your defenses and take in a story in good faith. You should not ask this question until you’re done listening, in most cases. Just like it’s well and good to listen to someone with a different perspective than you—you might be wrong, and a story’s main function, like I say on my profile’s pinned post, is to act as a Signpost that Directs You Back to Truth When You’ve Wandered.

But the problem is, fallible humans are telling the stories, and fallible humans are listening to the stories.

So you need to know what you believe, and after the storytellers tell you something, measure it against reality. When Greta Gerwig says, “You Can Be Whatever You Want to Be, Because You’re God,” and she says it with the Barbie movie, is she right? When Cinderella says, “Have Courage and Be Kind, and You’ll Have Hope in the Worst Circumstances,” is the movie right? What if you find yourself in the worst of circumstances one day—you better hope Cinderella didn’t feed you lies. What if there is a God, and it’s not you—you better hope Barbie didn’t feed you lies. I really enjoyed going over this! I’m sorry it was so long. If there’s ever anything more or like, follow-up questions, go ahead and ask! I’ll try to make it briefer next time. Thanks again!

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jakescakeislateforourdate · 1 year

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What Does Kaz Brekker do when you cry?

If it’s because you’re injured:

Kaz struggles to comfort because he doesn’t know what it’s like to feel comforted and therefore is terribly inexperienced at giving it.

Especially when you are in pain. What is he to do? What is he to say?

Well, he knows when you get mad about things you either like to brood by yourself or you come sit in his office and rant. Why is it that you come to his office?

Is it because everyone else is somehow busier than he is and can’t be bothered to listen to you? That idea upsets him because he knows his crows and he know they’d never do that to you and live to see another day.

Could it possibly be the proximity to him? Does his presence help you sort things out?

That sounds good. So he pulls up a chair and sits at your bedside if only to be near you. This seems to work a little.

As Nina works on cleaning a cut, you’re struggling to bite back whimpers and groans. He can clearly read the pain in your eyes and the set of your jaw.

Later, when it’s just you and him, he reads quietly as you nap. He’s slouched in the chair, one hand prodding his temple. Then you stir.

You seem to gasp a bit, and then you’re crying. Why are you crying? You clutch at your side where the wound is. And then it clicks. You need some pain medication.

Kaz administers it himself, making sure to give you the proper dosage. He can’t really touch you, but you may feel the drag of the leather tips of his gloves along your cheek as he ticks away strands of hair.

Injuries are difficult because he cannot remove the pain with just his words. It isn’t something you can talk through but rather something a hug and a kiss might help which he can’t give you.

If it’s because he’s upset you:

Apologies are rough for this man. I picture two instances: when he finds you crying, and when you cry in front of him.

Say you have an argument and Kaz says some very unkind things in the Dirtyhands fashion.

If you simply exit his office and leave him to consider his outburst, Kaz feels himself wither. He knows you are now very mad. He’s experienced with people being angry with him, they usually want to kill him and maybe you do which poses many problems for him. But he doesn’t know how to quell anger.

So he sits and schemes for an excruciatingly long time. Too long.

Because when he finally figures something out and leaves his office to attend to you, you’re crying. And he has to redo all his plans.

When you turn to him with watery eyes he just can’t—WHAT IS HE SUPPOSED TO DO!?!!!

It’s awkward because the two of you just stand there looking at each other.

Kaz tries to speak. He really does. But he’s no good at this. So he comes to another set of decisions. Pull himself together enough to give physical comfort or suck up his pride and apologize.

He musters up some courage and peace of mind, and steps closer. His gloved hands cup your cheeks and he thumbs away a few tears. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “Didn’t mean to make you so upset.”

Now if you start crying in his office, Kaz just wants to bury himself six feet under. Talk about instant regret. He goes pale as an icicle and starts to sweat.

He slaps himself internally and finds his way out of his desk chair and in front of you. His hands are on your shoulders and he’s budding you look at him. This actually goes a little better than the other instance because he has to work on the fly and doesn’t have time to over complicate things.

He just wants you to stop crying because he hates the idea that he’s made you upset enough to cry.

When he finally chokes out an apology it sounds half-assed but I’m actuality it’s the best he can do because he’s panicking and doesn’t know what to do about anything.

Miscellaneous:

Regardless of the reason that you’re crying, the outcome is the same. You’re met with an awkward and unsure Kaz Brekker.

In his heart he knows that he’s not doing this right and that he’s not comforting you how he should be. But there’s the small matter of his touching issue and his inexperience.

Kaz has never been face to face with difficulties regarding his weakness as often as he has been with you. He wants to do the things that normal people do but alas, he’s not normal.

So while you’re upset, know that he really does care and that he’s trying his best. Kaz would do anything for you within the proper time frame. He will find a way to make things better for you regardless of the situation.

Side Note:

I imagine that Kaz has made himself cry because he made you cry. He just feels so terribly awful about the whole experience and worries that he hasn’t helped.

He’s so overcome that when he catches a moment by himself, he might shed a few tears out of fear and shame.

#kaz brekker x reader #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone #six of crows #yourfellowfandomfiend #kaz #kaz brekker #kaz x reader

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dreamer1084 · 2 months

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Spoilers of Natsuyuu Ch.130

Not a summary, just something I think interesting.

Spoilers under cut.

Natori-san's sleeping.

"He can't exorcise youkai if he can't see them. If it's something he can't do, then just not to do it. Whether Natori sees us or not, My heart will not change." Hiiragi...

──Oh, who can help? This kid sees things that people don't see. He says he saw something like a gecko moving around in his body. No, no, Shuuichi definitely didn't lie. Can he never see that kind of thing again? ──Hey, please, someone, who can free this child from those terrible things── Natori's mother really loved her son QVQ

"Ah haha, of course. It's so ironic, my mother took me everywhere to save me when I was a child, yet there is such a perfect curse. But now I don't need it anymore. I have decided my path and have no plans to leave. "

"I'm imitating someone I respect."

Wow, cool.

"You seem troubled, are you jealous? Obviously that kind of guy is completely incomparable to you. Then why not make a trap in the warehouse? As long as the people in the house are told that there is a curse in the warehouse, they will definitely entrust that guy. He is not experienced enough, so he will be cursed. That's when it's time for you to show up. Rush over to help him brilliantly. "

"That way the people in the house will appreciate you again. Will come back to you again. "

"Hohoho Just think of it as a simple test given by a master to his apprentice. As long as he doesn't get cursed and successfully breaks the curse, it will be over. Is that alright? "

"If he is really cursed and you can't come over, Let me help him here instead of you. "

"Now, to that guy, to that Takuma, Let us play a secret prank. So stop putting on such a sullen expression. "

"Hey, Uryuu──"

She has this kind of gentle expression...

"Takuma" "Yes" "You should despise me." "Is it because you were late for the meeting?" "No" "Is it because you ate the expensive snacks that others gave me?" "Is there such a thing?" (LOL) "It's something that will disappoint you. I wanted to break it, but I couldn't get through it with my body, and I made my important Shiki do such meaningless thing… Now think about it, you wouldn't be fooled by that kind of trick, right? One day you will find out and know my mischief. Please despise me. For someone of your level, I am not worthy of being your master."

"Oh my, what a troublesome person. Obviously only I can be your apprentice ──Yes, okay As long as it is what my master wishes."

Sensei complained, "It's really troublesome! Being ordered around by some master!" I don't expect that Sasago, who usually quarreled the most with Sensei, actually agreed with him LOL

"──Okay Natsume, I have something I want to discuss with you. Should I report this matter to Takuma-san, or should I remain silent." "Huh"

"──That's right… If it were me──"

To be honest, I originally thought it would be longer. After all, the title uses "Part I, II, III", so I thought it would be more than four chapters. I didn't expect it to end so quickly.

I was super sleepy when I was reading it yesterday, so I just took a quick glance at it and thought, "Huh? Is it just like this? The master is jealous of his apprentice?" I was a little disappointed. But now I read it again and feel that interpersonal relationships are really complicated. Fortunately, everyone here is a gentle person…

By the way, I wrote Chinese summaries of Natsuyuu. The translation I put here is from what I wrote in Chinese and Google translated into English. If I see something odd in the translation, I'll try to change it. But I'm not a native English speaker, so I hope you don't mind if there's anything weird.

#natsume yuujinchou #spoilers #natsume's book of friends #natsume takashi #natori shuuichi #natsuyuu

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flagbridge · 8 months

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Q&A: The Phantom Broadway Proshot

Happy 36th Birthday to Phantom of the Opera's opening night on Broadway! We should be celebrating at the Majestic. The show never should have closed.

In order to create "new" ish POTO Broadway content, @or-what-you-will and I promised to answer your questions about the proshot on POTO Broadway's birthday. Find our summary of the Proshot here.

We got dozens of questions, which we've consolidated into 14 questions. Read them all past the cut!

Wait, what’s the Phantom Proshot?

The Phantom Proshot is an archival copy of the original Broadway cast and production of Phantom of the Opera, filmed at the evening performance with a live audience on May 25, 1988. The New York Public Library, Theatre on Film and Tape Archive at the Performing Arts Library at Lincoln Center has archival copies of Broadway, Off-Broadway, and Regional theater going back to 1970. You can’t view currently running shows, so since Phantom ran for so long, it was under lock and key.

2. How do I see the Pro-Shot?

Pretty simple how to guide here on the NYPL website.

We are both NYPL cardholders and made a reservation in advance. You are required to state why you are accessing the recording as they exist for archival and research purpose. Both of us are published authors and researchers under our real names.

Here's a picture of the room we were in from NYPL's website. We had an appointment and were set up in a room with lots of monitors. We were seated at monitors next to each other with two sets of headphones and had one set of controls to pause/rewind etc. There are 20 monitors in the room and it was pretty full that day. This was not my first time at the TOFT and it’s always had a good number of people around.

3. Can someone get a boot of it/send me the link to it? Pleeeeease?

No. Seriously, stop asking about this. Stop joking about this. It’s not online, and never will be. All of the recordings are on digital media (videodiscs or DvDs) in the basement and only library staff get to touch them. Don’t be the person who tried to do this and ruins the archive for everyone else. You can’t even bring electronic devices into the room.

4. Why won’t they release it to the public? And who the heck does it benefit to keep this locked away?

It isn’t. It was locked away when the show was actually running. It is available to the public. We are the public! We have library cards and went to a public library and watched it for $0! It’s owned by the library so the public can see it! At the library!

The availability of us to access it now that the show has closed is what constitutes public release. There were several other phans, members of the public there to see it after us, and the library allowed them to max out the number of monitors the library allows people to view on. They had a later appointment and were watching disc one when we were on disc two. I’m sure there was someone after them too. Were we all wearing Phantom gear? Also yes.

(@or-what-you-will here) The library is not allowed to show recordings of anything currently running on Broadway, presumably because of fears about economic loss from those who own the rights to the musicals. The library does not own the rights to the musicals in the archive, and there are likely a lot of stipulations the library has to follow to be able to have recordings like this.

As someone who works in a library doing digitization work, libraries and the media they contain are very complicated. TOFT likely has the rights to show it under a very limited license, and to make copies for preservation purposes only, but things like this mean they would not be able to do anything like put it online or charge for it or do anything that would be them acting as though they owned the copyright (as opposed to the physical media). This is why when a library or archive has a book or tapes they don’t usually have the right to photocopy the entire book or digitize the entire tape and put it online (unless it is in public domain), however, if you go in person you can see it all you want. Someone else (usually the creator) owns the right to distribute or copy, and libraries and archives can get in a lot of trouble for violating it.

The copyright is still owned by the holders of each respective musical’s copyright. It’s essentially like when you buy a DVD and you are technically not supposed to copy that DVD but you can invite your friends over to watch it at your house. Copying it and distributing it violates copyright. Putting it online violates copyright. If the library violated copyright it would likely lose the ability to archive musicals altogether. If you copied the DVD it would be a lot harder to find out who put it up because the DVD is owned by lots of people, though you could still be prosecuted by the law. If the library did, they would know immediately who did it because they are presumably the only ones with a copy of this recording.

Likewise if someone took a bootleg recording of a show and distributed it, the copyright holders wouldn’t know it existed. If they found out that individual would then be eligible to be prosecuted under the law. Because the library is a public institution, if they were found out to be doing this, it would be the library itself that would get in trouble and it would damage their reputation, their funding, and quite possibly the funding and reputation of libraries around the world. A lot of this is done on trust. The copyright holders trust the library as a public institution and the library has a lot more stakes in the game than a single person recording the show and distributing it.

It’s a very tenuous agreement at times, and likely the library is only allowed to even record because there are so many protections in place and they have a history of enforcing these rules. These agreements also usually cover digitization and preservation, but again, violating them could have those abilities taken away as well. It’s all tied up in copyright law and the library has no control over that. I have talked to archivists where I live who have to record performances with tape over the lens because it’s considered for preservation and they want to make sure it cannot be possible to profit off of it in any way.

When the show goes into public domain they will be able to put it online all they want without fear of repercussions, but until then, unless those agreements change, we are all limited by the whim of the copyright holders.

5. Hello! Is the pro shot you watched what this clip is from https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cp2_80CJqI3/?igsh=MWNja2wwYWw4OHUwbw== ?

I know all of us here on Tumblr were freaking out that they maybe had a copy of the pro shot when this came out. Thank you! (@imstillhere-butallislost)

Not the proshot, it's a press reel. It has its own cool story though! Answered this here.

6. How good of a shot was it? I know you said ProShot but is it a ProShot like Hamilton or just a camera recording the whole stage at once?

I’d definitely say it was Hamilton pro-shot quality as to what was available at the time between image quality and mixing up of close ups and wide shots. I’ve watched other proshots and many just park a camera in the back of the orchestra and call it good. Cats in particular had multiple cameras but just did close-ups when they felt like it, not when it made sense or added anything. As @or-what-you-will explained in their re-blog, Phantom was one of the first proshots where they had a soundboard plug in, and let me tell you, with the exception of a few moments in Act 1 where Sarah Brightman maxes out her mic, the sound was delicious. Have we talked about how Judy Kaye is singing over the overture (yes, that’s Judy Kaye, original Carlotta, warming up!)? Or that you can hear every single word of Notes I and Prima Donna and Notes II, which usually just sounds garbled because everyone is singing over one another? Actually hearing words that I sort of know exist changed my experience of the show for me.

7. How did the tempo seem, compared to the pace of the show at the end of its run? I saw the show a few times in the last few years, and the music seemed significantly faster in person than it sounded on the London cast recording. I’ve always wondered if that was just a difference between the London and NY productions, or if the tempo just sped up over the years.

Uh…normal pace??? I’ve watched a lot of boots and most solidly clock in 2:15 of run time. This was no different. There are definitely some that run a little faster. London during Earl Carpenter’s 2023 run was notorious as he had to catch a train. It does seem to have settled back out. I will say, the music does always feel more intense in person because the whole place just vibrates.

8. I'm curious about the comment about the Ratcatcher? I think I remember that character from a film adaptation, but was he ever in the ALW musical? (@lord-valery-mimes)

Yes, Ratcatcher is still in the musical, even now. It’s a blink or you miss it type of moment. If you hear a thud and a scream right before Madame Giry tells Raoul “He lives across the Lake, Monsieur”, the thud is the ratcatcher running across the travelator.

9. Does Christine really recognize the Phantom in PONR from his boner?

No, but at this point she probably already know it’s him and has been trying to get through the scene, but definitely acts surprised because, well, that’s surprising. But it’s definitely the moment where the Vibes Are Officially Off.

10. Can Sarah Brightman act?

Yes! All three of the trio have far more nuanced performances on stage. Sarah doesn’t act the way that we do see many later Christines (including late 80s and early 90s Christines), but she absolutely created the blueprint for the role. Her “Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again” is missing some soul, but at the end of the day she was one of a kind, and she made some very strong acting choices.

11. there anything unexpected? Any interpretation that stood out to you and particularly striking but didn’t stick around as others took on the roles and put their own spin on things?

Guys, I want to talk about Steve Barton as Raoul. The man made choice, after choice, after choice. And yet we have had so many Raoul’s that are kind of just strutting about looking pretty. Some seem to even forget they’re onstage during Final Lair. It can be such a juicy role if the actors choose to make it that way but so few do.

Besides some small details I mentioned, the show did maintain its integrity through its 35 year run, which is truly remarkable.

(@or-what-you-will here) Seconding what Flag said, Steve Barton brought so much more to the role than I’m used to seeing, and it really opened my mind to what Raoul could be.

The blocking in PONR did surprise me, I knew they had changed it but I hadn’t realized how much. I always found the kind of pinwheeling arm thing Christine does with the phantom strange, so it was a pleasant surprise to find that they didn’t do that at all, the embrace from behind made more sense to me.

I also found after she took his hood off no one really ran out, the phantom and Christine got to have their moment. The blocking where they (the managers and Raoul) run out and tell Christine to stay makes no sense with their motivations to stop him. The more recent blocking where Christine motions them to stay in place as the phantom sings the All I Ask of You Reprise makes way more sense with the characters’ motives and matches this original blocking much more.

12. Also are you truly working on a research project? If so, how is progress and where might we find your final results when it’s complete?

To quote Dr. Who, “Spoilers.” Yes, always. Both of us have day jobs that have us doing research, but I can’t promise I’ll put it on here when complete since I keep fandom and real life separate. Sorry to dodge this one but getting into specifics about this starts to identify us.

(@or-what-you-will here) Seconding what Flag said.

13. Hi there, I was wondering if I could ask you a general question about the NPL’s archive. Something about the language on their website made it sound like viewers could only watch a recording “once”. I wasn’t sure if that meant “once per visit” (i.e. you can’t sit there for 8 hours restarting the tape every time it ends) or “once” as in forever (like, once you’ve watched a recording you are never allowed to request it again). Did you have any clarification? I wasn't sure if the librarians explain the policies when you arrive at your appointment. Thank you for providing so many details about the Phantom pro-shot and offering to answer our questions! That's really kind of you!

You’re welcome! So if there’s nobody after you, you can hang out with the media as long as you want. However, we did have another group come in about 90 minutes after us. That gave us enough time to watch both acts with all the rewinds we wanted. We watched PONR and parts of Final Lair like five times. On a previous TOFT trip I watched two shows and was there for like six hours. The prohibition is on coming back and watching the recording again. I have no idea how strict they are about this, although I suspect it’s to keep people from monopolizing certain media. Would I want to try to watch the proshot again in the future? Probably! I know there’s stuff I missed, or I’d see something different depending on what I’m working on. The TOFT is also an absolutely incredible resource and I have so many other shows I’d like to check out.

(Will here) They do log on your library account when you visit that you visited and what you saw. However, if you have accessibility needs that would require you to watch in multiple viewings or something along those lines, I would talk to them about it, because I’m sure they’d be able to work with you to figure out something so you wouldn’t have to sit through the whole thing in one shot.

14. > Barton Raoul’s “There is no Phantom of the Opera” comes off more as “Christine this is just some dude” vs “he doesn’t exist at all.”

Could you elaborate on this part? I'm having trouble imagining how that would be conveyed. (also, thanks for sharing your notes on the procast!) @clutzyangel

You're welcome! Yes, he's telling Christine that the Phantom is a human, flesh-and-blood man, not some fantastical creature. I've seen many Raouls who seem to try to convince Christine that the Phantom doesn't exist at all. Barton's Raoul seems to understand that he's a man with ulterior motives possibly duping Christine.

And he's not wrong.

#phantom of the opera #poto #alw phantom #phantom proshot #happy birthday phantom broadway #phantom broadway #michael crawford #sarah brightman #steve barton #judy kaye #andrew lloyd webber #nypl #research #I wish Phantom were still be on broadway #we should all be wilding out at the majestic

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 9 months

Text

Wicked Games

Assassin!Reader x Poly!Feysand

Author's note: This is my first self-insert and first smut, wanted to try something new for a change. Not proof-read, we die like men.

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This mission was supposed to be simple, quick. In and out, cut and dry, the job coming in like all the others: A manila envelope under your door, no markings, the target and order inside. That was how it had always been, how it always would be, it was the only thing you knew to be true. So how in the Seven Hells had you ended up here? The High Lord leaned against the wall, his well pressed shirt open half way down his chest, the swirl of Illyrian ink in stark contrast to his bronze skin, so casual in the face of what should have been his own demise. Worse, the High Lady, perched atop the desk, her bare legs bouncing against the wood as she kicked her feet almost giddily. Neither of them looked displeased with the fact that you had been sent there to kill them. In fact, you were quite sure the infamous Curse Breaker was laughing at you as you squirmed uncomfortably in your seat. They hadn't even tied you down! It was starting to feel like an insult, they way they'd simply ushered you in here and asked you to sit like you'd come in for a meeting and not for the poison you'd slipped into their wine minutes before.

"It was a valiant effort, really," said Rhysand as he pushed away from the wall and came to stand behind you.

It was impossible not to be aware of the sheer power of him when he was this close. It was like a dropping a stone into a pond, the ripple of star-kissed power brushing steadily against you. You'd been around powerful males your whole life, had been trained to kill many of them, but none had ever felt like this. He was the shadow of a thought in your mind, a brush of darkness against your skin, you could practically taste jasmine and citrus.

Feyre was no better as she placed her elbows on her knees and leaned forward to get a better look at you. The dress she wore was cut low, the neckline plunging towards her midsection, accentuating every curve when she sat like that. Power radiated off her, not just Night, but something other, as if something beyond the power of the High Lords prowled beneath her skin.

"Not many people dare try," she said with a grin. She'd been the one to catch you. It had been a mistake going for her first, you could see that clearly now. The decision to spike their wine and than disguise yourself as their new cupbearer was already a risky move, but you liked to be absolutely sure the job was done, and done right. And Feyre hadn't taken her throne, she had been perched in Rhysand's lap, kissing his neck and whispering in his ear as she drank cup after cup. You'd thought she would be too drunk to notice the change in taste, too caught up in the revelry to even notice that you were not their usual cup bearer. You had been very, very wrong. She hadn't even gone in for a sip, had somehow been using her public display of affection to distract from the fact that she'd slipped right into your mind and seen exactly what you had done. And still, she could have killed you right there, could have summoned water or flames or ice and you'd heard she could do and taken you out in front of everyone in the Court of Nightmares. But she'd gotten out of Rhysand's lap, stumbling on heels you thought were too tall for her, and thrown an arm around your shoulder, whispering in your ear that she needed your help finding the bathroom--and knocking the spiked drinks out of your hands in the process. It was very clear to you now that she had never been drunk in the first place.

Neither of them were anything like the report you'd gotten.

"I-" what was there to say? Words felt useless.

Rhysand leaned down, resting the bulk of his weight on the back of the chair, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "So who do I get to thank for sending you?"

You shivered at his proximity, at his warm breath over the shell of your ear. Not many people dared to get this close to you; not many people got the better of you like this either. This was certainly a lot of firsts.

When you gave no response, Feyre said, "Don't be shy."

They were likely to rip the answer right out of your skull with those terrifying daemati powers if you kept your mouth shut, or worse, summon that Shadowsinger you'd seen lurking around the halls earlier. "I don't know."

Rhysand made a disappointed sound from where he still hovered by your ear. You refused to try and turn to look at him, refused to acknowledge that you had even heard him.

Feyre jumped off the top of the desk, her stilettoes clicking against the polished marble floors. "Now, now, don't make this difficult for yourself."

"Your secret is safe with us," Rhysand said mockingly.

"I don't know! I get my orders in the mail. There's never a return address or signature."

"Where's the mail?"

"I burned it."

"Well in that case," his voice was the only warning before you felt something scrape against your mental shields. You tried to throw more walls up as a talon slashed across your mind, but it was not Rhysand that slipped past, but Feyre, quick and quite as the huntress they said she used to be. She laughed as she sprinted through your memories, all attempts at shielding useless as Rhysand kept poking at what little shields you had up to distract you. They were the perfect team, synced to perfection, each move calculated and sharpened.

Feyre stepped into the memory of you opening the envelope as simply as if she had stepped through a doorway. The memory unfolded for her, you saw your own hands break the seal, open the letter, and burn it in a flash, before reality broke back through. You shook your head, fighting the memory away like it was a spot in your eye.

"That handwriting looked familiar, didn't it, Darling," Rhysand purred, the low timber of his voice rumbling in your ear.

"How thoughtful of Keir to give us an Anniversary gift," Feyre returned.

Keir. You only knew the stories about him, what a horrible male he was. You'd been lucky to have not been born in the Court of Nightmares like your mother, had grown up only with the tales of what kind of place this was. Your mother had protected you for as long as she could, but when Amarantha had come, when war bands had fought and bickered over land in the little territory she and your father had managed to make for themselves... well, they were gone and you'd had to find a way to survive, but you hadn't forgotten those stories. Your stomach twisted. This job had never been easy, but it had never been for males like Kier. At least, you'd never thought so.

You must have looked surprised because Feyre put two manicured fingers under your chin and tilted your head up to look at you. Something wicked gleamed in those strikingly blue eyes and you quickly blurted, "I swear I didn't know! I needed the money, I didn't know the job was from him."

"We believe you," she said. "But I think you should prove you're worth letting go."

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "I'll do anything!"

Rhysand chuckled at that. "Anything?"

The suggestiveness in the question made you shiver, more so when the High Lady broke into a grin. That couldn't be a good sign.

"I want to see Keir sweat a little, don't you dear?" Feyre asked over your head to her mate.

"More than just a little, I should think."

This felt like a fever dream, everything a little distorted and muffled. Perhaps it was. You had hit your head pretty hard on your last mission. How else could you explain what was happening here?

"Stand," Feyre ordered.

You did as you were told, even if you were biting the inside of your cheek.

"So responsive," Rhysand said, more to Feyre than you.

You frowned at that.

Feyre stepped closer to you, settling her hands on your hips. There was no room to twist away as her mate settled in behind you, the heat radiating off him seeping through your shirt. They even moved in perfect sync.

Nowhere to run now.

"You're going to play our favorite game with us."

Game? The reports hadn't said anything about them liking games.

"I don't understand-"

Rhysand cut you off, "Just follow our lead."

Feyre gave your hips a squeeze, "It's fun, trust me."

You didn't know what this had to do about proving you had made a mistake in taking this job, but you didn't know what other choice you had, so you just nodded.

They led you back into the throne room, the night's revelry still in full swing. Near the back, where the tables were still piled high with food, was Keir, the aging steward speaking conspiratorially with some of the other high ranking officials of the Court. Did he know already that you had failed? If he did, he didn't show it. He didn't so much as look up from his conversation.

Something hot twisted in your stomach at the sight of him. How could you have taken a job for a male like him?

Feyre pulled your thoughts away from him as she pulled you over to the dais, where their thrones sat empty. Even though Keir wasn't paying attention, others in the crowd were.

You swallowed thickly as Rhysand slid into his rightful seat, looking every bit the High Lord he was. Feyre didn't resume her seat in his lap, however, this time she perched on the arm rest, and guided you into her former place.

Your cheeks heated, mouth dry as the High Lord looped a strong arm around your waist and positioned you more comfortable on his lap, one long leg slotting between your own.

Feyre chucked at your obvious embarrassment. "Now now, you said you'd do anything." She said into your mind.

You dared a glance at her. This wasn't what you'd meant!

"This game is much more fun if you relax," Rhys purred as he dragged his nose over your throat looking for a place to sink his teeth.

You shivered despite yourself, the warmth of him seeping into you.

Feyre gripped your chin in her hand, forcing your gaze away from where it had wandered into the crowd. Keir still wasn't paying attention, but more and more people were halting their dancing and drinking to leer at this new pet their High Lord and Lady had brought back with them.

"Eyes on us."

Rhysand's hand slid over your hip and down to your thigh. The servant's garb you'd borrowed was a thin pair of pants, and a large, hooded sweater, not the sexy, revealing gown the High Lady donned, but you still couldn't help but feel incredibly vulnerable in this position.

How were you supposed to know what to do? How was this proving you could be trusted not to take another job from Keir? Was that fool even looking this way?

Rhysand nipped at the underside of your jaw and you jumped, thoughts careening away from Keir and whatever he was doing. The High Lord's breath was warm on your neck, each nip he left along your jaw sending shivers down your spine. It was an effort to keep your eyes open, to not immediately tilt your head back against his shoulder and let him explore every inch of you as you submitted fully to him. He could make you, if he wanted, it would be all too easy for him to reach inside your mind and move you however he wanted. You'd be a liar if you said the thought didn't excite you. The thought of handing yourself over to someone with that kind of power, testing to see what they'd do with it was more tempting than you'd ever dare say aloud. And maybe the High Lady had heard those thoughts, because a moment later, she was threading her hands through your hair and tilting your head back to let Rhysand explore further.

You whimpered softly as he ran his tongue over your pulse point and then Feyre was leaning in and nipping at the other side of your neck. It was too much at once, the overwhelming scent and warmth of them had you leaning fully into Rhysand's shoulder, eyes closing. One of their hands slid under your shirt, stroking at your side, you thought it might be Feyre, but didn't dare open your eyes to look, lest this really be a dream and you'd awake alone.

"Good girl," Rhysand praised. Somehow, even in your head his voice was low and husky. His hand slid further up your thigh, testing as he drew closer to your core. The move had you squirming and Feyre responded by dragging her hand from underneath your shirt to hold your hips down. There was no escaping either of them.

You still weren't sure how you ended up in this position, but you no longer cared. All you knew was this, them, and how much more of them you needed. Distantly you wondered if this was some daemati trick, if they had slipped into your mind and convinced you to do this. You decided you didn't care if they had, not as Feyre's lips were on yours, her tongue sliding past your teeth. There wasn't a hint of wine on her lips, despite all you'd seen her drink earlier. How she did that was anyone's guess.

Rhys drew circles on the inside of your thigh with his fingers, teasing you now as he continued to nip at your throat. There'd be marks in the morning, of that you were certain.

Feyre broke apart abruptly, laughing as you chased after her. "I think she likes this game of ours."

"Shall we play some more?"

You could play it all night if they wanted. There was something intoxicating about the two of them that had you desperate for any scrap of affection they could give you.

"Yes!" You said it faster than you intended, a blush creeping it's way back up your cheeks as you realized how pathetic it sounded, especially to two high fae. "Please."

Feyre leaned over you to kiss Rhys this time, intentionally pressing herself forward so her chest brushed up against you. You arched up to press your lips against her collar bones, too scared to go lower. She hummed approvingly into Rhy's mouth and he rewarded you by dragging his hand the rest of the way up your thigh, cupping your core through your pants. You were desperate for friction now, grinding your hips into his palm, even as your lips continued to work of Feyre's collarbones. She smelled so good! Her skin soft under your lips. You wanted the time to run your lips over the smattering of freckles she'd gotten while hunting in the summer time.

Rhys' free hand slid into your hair, pulling tight as he whispered in your ear, "No marks on your High Lady. Not without my permission, understand?"

If you were of any sound mind you might have been tempted to scrape your teeth across her throat, just to see what he would do, but you knew you weren't lucky enough to get away with it after everything that had happened already. "Yes, sir."

His dark laugh rumbled in his chest, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. This was a very dangerous game, far more dangerous than any assassination attempt had ever been. Dangerous, because, for once, you were enjoying it and enjoying anything in this line of work got you in trouble.

Feyre leaned back, out of your reach, and still held by Rhys' arm around your waist, it was impossible to reach out after her. Especially now that the High lord had decided he didn't like the article of clothing between his hand and you, and was reaching for the waistband of your pants.

The blush returned tenfold. This--touching, kissing, in front of all these people was one thing, but that?

The High Lady pouted as she looked at you, her eyes lust-blown, so dark you almost couldn't see the blue. "I think you have too much on."

Before you could contemplate what that meant, she snapped her fingers and your sweater disappeared entirely.

You tried to move to cover yourself, squirming now, and she grabbed your hands with a disapproving tut. "No hiding."

Rhys' hand had slid inside your waistband, so close again your hips rocked forward, searching for him without conscious thought, even as your face heated. There was a fine line between your pleasure and sheer mortification and somehow you were still teetering between the two, torn between wanting more and wanting to sink into the floor and disappear. The crowd was watching, or at least you were pretty sure they were, at this point you were too scared to look and kept your gaze glued to where the High Lord and Lady were touching you.

"So pretty," Feyre hummed as she moved your hands up and around Rhys' neck.

There was no hiding what they were doing to you now. You might have fought them harder if Rhys' hand wasn't finally where you wanted him so desperately, a finger sliding easily into you. Your jaw dropped, a strangled sound coming out of you.

"So wet," he teased, mind to mind. "All this for us, pet?"

Pet. Toy. The High Lord's little play thing. You'd been called worse.

"Yes, sir."

"So well trained, maybe we should keep her," Feyre said as she placed a gentle kiss on your nose.

"Where'd you learn this manners, hmm?" He nipped at your ear as he slid a second finger inside you.

Your eyes rolled back into your head at the stretch, at the way he curled his fingers, hitting all the right spots. Heat coiled in your gut and you found yourself instinctively tightening your hands into the silky strands of his hair.

"Certainly not Keir," Feyre said as she brought her hands to squeeze at your breasts.

You'd had your eyes closed, lost in the bliss of Rhys' ministrations, unprepared for the new sensation of her hands on you, you let out a moan louder than was appropriate for the situation.

"Guess I'm just good at this game," I quipped weakly. The two of them working together like this was becoming overwhelming, you could barely think past the point of contact of with their hands. There was only this and them and the heat coiling tighter and tighter in your stomach. Rhys' pace was quickening. Feyre was playing with the clasp at the center of your bra, toying with it like she was contemplating ripping it off you.

She might have, if someone hadn't cleared their throat at the base of the dais.

"What do you want Keir?" Rhys sneered, the true picture of princely boredom, as if he was not currently holding you at the cusp of an orgasm, as if his mate wasn't leaving hickey's on the exposed skin of your breasts as they spoke.

You'd thought, as you registered Keir's presence that this would be the end of it, that they would stop now that they had his attention, but Rhys was still curling his fingers inside you, stroking relentlessly as Feyre bit and sucked at your sensitive skin. You arched into her, biting down on a moan, this game be damned. Who cared about Keir? About the rest of the court? You needed them to keep touching and kissing you. This was all that mattered.

You were panting as Feyre giggled into your skin. "Doing so good for us."

"Please," you begged, grinding yourself down on Rhys palm. You were so close, just a little more.

"I hate to interrupt," Keir began.

"No you don't," said Feyre. "It's your favorite thing to do."

"But your little toy-"

"Brought us a gift for our anniversary?" Rhys finished for him.

"We know," Feyre added. "It was a really sloppy attempt at a gift."

Keir stammered, none of the words coming out right.

"She needs some training," Rhys said. "A little refining around the edges, but I think this will be a very profitable relationship."

"Just wish we knew who sent her our way," Feyre cooed.

Rhys' free hand hand came up to rest on your throat, just tight enough to make you lean your head back to look at him. The move sent heat straight to your core, your muscle tightening as you whimpered for him. "But we'll get it out of you eventually, won't we, pet?"

Keir was visibly shaking now.

"Mhmm," you whimpered.

"Come on now, where are those pretty little manners you had before?" Rhys teased, his hand suddenly stilling.

The loss of friction was too much, tears welling up in your eyes. "Yes, yes High Lord." You stammered.

His grin was feline as he started moving again, faster this time. Feyre slid behind your mental shield again, this time opening up a door in her own mind to show you what you looked like through her eyes, your pupils blown, your cheeks flushed, lips kiss swollen and red. They'd left little red marks all along your throat and chest. Then she blasted you with an image of what she still wanted you to look like, images of her between your legs, of you taking Rhys in your mouth. You tightened around Rhys' fingers.

"And you would take the word of some-" whatever word he was about to throw at you was suddenly cut off as Rhys removed his ability to speak.

"Careful how you speak, Keir."

The steward's mouth opened and closed as he tried in vain to defend himself.

Rhys waved a hand, "You clearly have nothing useful to say here, you can go." Keir spun like a top, mouth still flapping open and closed like a fish, limbs splayed awkwardly, clearly not in control of his body, until Rhys made him walk half way to the door. Once he'd been released from the High Lord's grip, he stumbled and all but ran for the door.

"Why...?" The rest of the thought eddied from your mind as Rhys curled his fingers, hitting a spot inside you that made stars dance across your vision, your orgasm barreling through you so fast you're sure you screamed their names, but didn't have the presence of mind to hear it for yourself.

"We could kill him now," Feyre said as you slumped back against Rhys' shoulder. "But what fun is that? Why show him the mercy of a quick death when we can have him looking over his shoulder every five minutes, contemplating how to beat us in this wicked little game of ours?"

"I think," Rhys cooed as he placed a gentle kiss on your temple. "That it would be much more fun to eventually turn you on him instead."

You huffed a laugh at that.

Rhys carefully removed his fingers from your core and attempted to bring them to his mouth for a taste, but Feyre beat him to it, sliding his long fingers directly into her mouth, holding eye contact with you the entire time.

You clenched your legs together, wincing at the bit of soreness you felt there.

"Besides," Rhys purred in your ear, right before he shifted you around, settling you chest to chest in his lap. "This game is just getting started, isn't that right, pet?"

#feysand smut #feysand x reader #poly!feysand x reader #feyre acheron #feyre acheron x reader #rhysand acotar #rhysand x reader #acotar smut #acotar x reader #CoN

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