#I almost never posted it on here because I wasn’t sure how people would receive it without knowing the source material from the fandom

[lisired]

DREAM BOYS: slut me out

pairing: shy!jisung x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, unprotected sex (before you tap it make sure you wrap it), oral (m) receiving, switch!jisung, switch!reader (at least i think so… i wanna say there’s not really strong dom/sub dynamics here)

summary: The Dream Boys are notorious for banging everything on campus with a pulse and breaking hearts, but every time you see Jisung, you can’t help but think he’s nothing like them; he can barely even look into your eyes.

word count: 5.3k

a/n: i wrote this on a whim lol. as always, feedback is appreciated!

If I was a bad bitch,

I’d wanna fuck me too

There was something about Park Jisung that confused you to no end. 

For one, you wondered how a boy could be so awkward. You weren’t even this bad at your peak of social ineptitude, but he somehow seemed to always be shy and blushing. 

The most baffling thing about him, however, wasn’t just his timid personality and lack of confidence around the opposite sex. It was his ability to get along so well with people who were the complete opposite of him. 

Everybody at your school knew him and his friends collectively as the Dream Boys and they were notorious on campus for allegedly fucking every girl they set their sights on. You had no way of knowing how true that was, but based on nothing but vibes alone, most of them you didn’t doubt one bit. 

Mark, the sweet boy who posted bible quotes on his story every morning. Jeno, the intelligent one who obviously didn’t buy his way into college. Jaemin, the campus heartthrob everyone wanted to bring home to Mama. And Haechan, the party boy who was never not hungover. 

But Jisung was something different entirely. You had no idea why he hung out with them at all. Your interactions with him had been limited thus far, but he stammered out every sentence he spoke and could hardly maintain eye contact. 

There was no way in hell he was a whore. 

The school library had unfortunately become your second home over the past few weeks and you were lounging at a table with your friends when Ryujin whispered, “Looks like the Dream Boys are throwing another Halloween party this year. I hope there’s no more cum punch rumors. I almost threw up because of that shit.”

Yuna winced. Those rumors had positively ruined the drinking last year for everybody. “Dream Boys? More like fuckboys.”

You snickered. You didn’t have a clue where the name came from, but you couldn’t resist quipping, “And what did you think they dreamed about?”

“Pussy,” she answered without hesitation.

You laughed again. The boys were handsome, you would give them that, but they also gave the impression that they were carrying sexually transmitted infections yet to be unearthed by health authorities. 

Ryujin seemed like she was reading from her phone, probably gathering more information about the aforementioned party, and soon enough she chirped, “No worries, guys. Haechan just posted that there will not be any cum punch, but everyone should watch their drink.”

“I won’t be attending,” you replied with total disinterest. “Have fun potentially drinking some random dude’s kids.”

Ryujin groaned, but she had been expecting that response. It was no secret you had something against those boys because of their fuckboy reputation and while she didn’t blame you for that, she didn’t see it as an excuse to skip out on harmless fun. “You’re so boring.”

You shrugged, indifferent. “If boring means spending my free time watching Shemar Moore chase bad guys in two different universes, both of which he’s incredibly sexy in, instead of risking my tongue falling off, then I’ll be that.”

“You both are disgusting,” Yuna said in disapproval. “You want to fuck someone’s bald dad and Ryujin wants to fuck Haechan.”

Ryujin gawked. “That’s a lie!”

Yuna wasn’t convinced. “Admit it. The only reason you want to go to this party after last year’s fiasco is because you know Haechan will be there and you want to suck his dick until the foreskin dries up like a raisin.”

You made a face. The graphic description was putting unholy pictures in your mind that you would rather not see. “Yeah, I’m gonna go. You girls got that,” you told them as you rose from the table, tossing your bag over your shoulder. “I will see you guys when I emerge from my Netflix binging.”

Meanwhile, Jisung was by himself in the break room of the local cafe he worked at trying desperately to think of something that would undo the boner in his pants before his co-workers saw him and teased him to hell and back. It wasn’t even because of a pretty customer this time. He was just daydreaming. 

Was it a smart thing to do while he was at work? No, maybe not. But he couldn’t help it. His mind had been filled with perverted thoughts lately. It was the second week of October and Jisung was attempting to get all of the sexual frustration out of his system before the start of No Nut November.

He had been the first one to lose last year. And the year before that. And the year before that. This year, he needed a turnaround. 

When his boner wouldn’t go down as soon as he’d hoped, Jisung ultimately decided to go wank it in the bathroom as quietly as possible and got back to work. And to his luck, you were standing right there at the counter waiting for someone to take your order. 

Jisung swallowed when he saw you. He had always found you gorgeous and seeing you after orgasming made his brain short-circuit. With a little plan to increase his body count another digit, he went up to the counter and put on his shyest performance. “Hello. What can I get for you today?”

Your brows furrowed. He didn’t sound as bashful as he looked. That said, he sounded like he was donning his customer service voice, and everybody knew that the person you were at work didn’t reflect your true self. “Hi, can I get the Jasmine green tea, please?”

Jisung kept his eyes trained to the screen the entire time, even though he wanted nothing more than to look at you. “Sure thing. Would you like any add-ons?”

“Tapioca pearls. Extra, please.”

God, the way you kept saying, “Please,” was driving him crazy. He knew you were simply being polite, which was more than he could say about some customers he got, but it was making him picture other situations where he could have you begging for him. 

“Will that be everything?” Jisung asked as if his thoughts hadn’t wandered somewhere dangerous.

You nodded your head, taking out your card. “That’s it.”

While you were temporarily distracted by having to pay, Jisung took the opportunity to get a better look at you. His eyes flitted to your lips that were coated in a clear gloss which made them look plumper. It was all he could do not to think about how perfect they would look wrapped around his cock.

“I heard you and your friends are throwing a party tonight,” you mentioned, waiting for your order to be processed. Not that you gave a damn. You just wanted something to talk about. 

Jisung was pleased you didn’t seem to notice his less than clean thoughts, but when you mentioned the party, he stifled a groan. “Yeah, I can’t go. I have a closing shift.”

“Damn, that must suck,” you replied, watching the hint of annoyance spread across his face. “When do you guys close, by the way? I was thinking about getting some work done.”

“We close at nine,” Jisung told you matter-of-factly. “Don’t you usually work in the library?”

You lifted a brow, smiling softly. “Are you keeping tabs?”

Jisung glanced away. Make no mistake, he wasn’t stalking you or anything, but he did happen to see you in the library whenever he popped inside. You were there more often than not. “I see you around every now and then.”

You hummed. “To answer your question, I do usually work in the library, but my friends are being insufferable today and I knew I wasn’t gonna get any work done around them, so I hopped ship.”

Jisung nodded his head in understanding. “Yeah, I get it. My friends are pretty annoying at times too.”

You had an obvious disdain for boys in his group, but for some reason, you were always so nice to him. It was almost as if you had some kind of soft spot. Jisung wondered if he could manipulate that kindness. He figured you must have assumed he wasn’t as bad as the men he surrounded himself with, which couldn’t have been more wrong, but you didn’t need to know that. 

There was no opportunity for you to give him a response, because his co-worker placed your drink in front of you, saying, “Here you go, one Jasmine green tea, extra tapioca pearls.”

You thanked them and glanced back at Jisung, telling him, “I’m gonna go find a seat,” and walked away. 

Jisung was disappointed, but it was better than you leaving. And in truth, it wasn’t so bad, because it gave him a little more time to think of a way of getting you to go home with him. He didn’t want to lose for the fourth year in a row since he started college, and you were a beautiful girl that thought highly of him for whatever reason. 

You were still lingering in the cafe a few hours later and it was that time of night where Jisung had to start excessively wiping counters to appear busy, because he didn’t expect many more customers. 

But you were the only customer in sight and he was the only employee at this hour, so he approached your table and inhaled a deep breath. “Hey, do you mind if I ask you something?”

You glanced up at him, wanting to giggle at how nervous he seemed for whatever reason, but resisting. “Sure.”

Jisung started fidgeting with the rings on his long fingers, which drew your attention to his hands, specifically how big they were. “Can I sit down?”

You wordlessly nodded over at the seat in front of you. 

With one more small glance in the direction of the door, which didn’t appear to be welcoming more customers any time soon, Jisung slid into the booth. You both sat there in silence until he finally willed himself to speak. “So, I was wondering… can I ask you a favor?”

You were tempted to respond with, I wasn’t aware I owed you any. But you were very curious to know where this was going, so you decided to let him get straight to the point. “Depends. What’s the favor?”

“Promise not to tell anyone?” he asked. 

“Sure, I’ll promise,” you replied, nodding. “As long as you’re not about to ask me to hide a body.”

That threw Jisung off guard and he quickly shook his head. “What? No, of course not. Look, uh, I need a favor from you, but it’s something kinda…”

Pushing down the top of your laptop, you held your face in your hands and gave Jisung your undivided attention. You were beginning to suspect that it was a favor of a sexual nature. 

When you looked at him like that, Jisung glanced away. “It’s kinda embarrassing to say, but I was wondering… if I could come to your house.”

Now that was definitely a surprise. “My house?”

Jisung nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Yeah, that’s what I was wondering. I’m sorry, I know it’s weird. I just…”

Your brows furrowed. Jisung had been to your apartment before. Once. Twice, if you counted him having to come back because he forgot his notebook. Either way, you weren’t necessarily friends and it only happened because of an assignment, the fact that the library had been completely packed, and your apartment was nearby. 

“Why?”

“Well… I wanted to know if you could help me with something.”

“You’re so vague,” you teased. “What do you need?”

Jisung exhaled a breath and decided he was just going to come out and say what he meant. “Listen, this is gonna be kinda weird, and if you say no I completely understand and will leave you alone for the rest of my life. But me and my friends are preparing for No Nut November and…”

“And you want to get all of the horny juice out of your system so you don’t nut on the first day like a loser,” you finished for him. It wasn’t that hard to guess, all things considered. “You know it doesn’t work like that, right?”

“It does,” he insisted. He said nothing else, waiting for you to either agree to blessing his cock tonight or let him suffer, and hoping you chose the former. 

You had already made your mind up, but you pretended to be uncertain, shrugging your shoulders. “Why me?”

Much to your surprise, Jisung didn’t skip a beat. “You’re the only girl I didn’t think would judge me.”

And that was exactly how he won you over, because you hurriedly began packing up your things to go home and get a shower before Jisung could get there. Maybe shave too. You didn’t go bald, but a little trim had never hurt anybody. 

Almost the very second his shift ended, Jisung was in his car growing increasingly more frustrated at every encountered red light as he drove as fast as he possibly could without going over the speed limit. 

When he rang the doorbell, you almost immediately answered the door, wearing nothing but a shirt that looked far too big for someone of your stature. “What took you so long?” you asked, widening the door so he could enter. 

“Lots of traffic tonight,” Jisung replied, waltzing inside your house as if his heart wasn’t thumping in his chest at the idea of getting fucked. 

You closed the door and led him to the bedroom. The soft, feminine smell of your body wash clung to you and the scent was already driving him crazy with lust. 

Jisung glanced around your bedroom, happy to be back here again. The last time he was inside your bedroom, he’d seen your panties spilling out of their drawer and it had taken everything in him to focus on the assignment at hand. 

His eyes fell to your delicious legs which were smooth and shiny. No doubt you had just gotten out of the shower. You got ready for him, which had to count for something. You had consented to fucking him, after all, so your interest in him couldn’t have been any more blatant. 

You plopped on your bed, noticing the way he was drinking in the sight of you. “Don’t just stand there,” you said, stifling a giggle. 

Jisung swallowed the unignorable lump in his throat. “What do you want me to do?”

You hummed, pretending to think about it. “Come here.”

He took tentative steps towards your bed. It was adorably pink and fluffy, and he almost felt bad for knowing it was going to be ruined by the time he returned home. Then, he started thinking about what else was pink, and from that point on his mind began reeling with lewd thoughts. 

You had to pull Jisung onto the bed, shoving him onto his back. The gasp he made was cut off by your lips smashing against his as you kissed him like your life depended on it, gently tugging on his black hair. You didn’t want to hurt him, but at the same time, that was exactly what you wanted. 

It pleasantly surprised you that Jisung was a decent kisser. You could tell he had some kind of experience, which was fair since he was a grown man with very obvious needs, and your panties were pooling with arousal when his hands drifted to your waist as you straddled him, pulling you flush against his rapidly hardening cock. 

As if he wasn’t already struggling to breathe enough, you broke the kiss and began trailing your lips faintly over his jaw. Then his neck. Then his collarbone. He figured you would go down again to his chest, but you went back to his throat and started sucking and nibbling at the flesh. 

“Fuck,” Jisung panted, already worked up and you had barely done anything together so far. He was sure you could feel how hard he was, given that he was pressed right against you, but you went about kissing him as if you had no clue. 

His reactions did make you giggle smugly though, quite proud of yourself. The marks you were leaving at the base of his neck were going to be there for days. Maybe weeks. The room felt hotter now that you were making such a mess of him. He brought his hands up from your perfect waist to your under your shirt, his fingers ghosting over your breasts. 

It was your turn to gasp out. The soft sounds you made did wonders to turn him on. He cupped your chest in his big palms and let his thumb work over the stiffened nipple. All the while, you were beginning to grind against his bulge as your lips wandered here and there, drawing a guttural groan from Jisung’s throat. 

“Oh my god,” he said, stilling your hips with his strong hands. Something your body liked more than you cared to admit.

You met his eyes. They were filled with lust and desire and impatience. “Are you okay?”

Jisung nodded his head, glancing at your body. He was hoping you would get out of that shirt sooner than later. He wanted to see you. “It’s just…,” he trailed, his voice faint. “I’ve never done this before.”

You didn’t gawk. You didn’t laugh. There was no amusement nor was there any surprise. “That’s okay. We can take things slow, if you want.”

“I’d rather not. I like things fast,” Jisung insisted. 

You laughed. “Well, that can be arranged too. Have you ever had a blowjob?”

The thought of you sucking his cock alone nearly made a cold shudder wreck through Jisung’s body. “Once,” he said, trying to keep his composure. “It was a long time ago.”

“Now, we can’t have that,” you replied, crawling off of him to bring your attention to the very prominent bulge in his pants. You could tell he was big and that thought had you salivating. 

Jisung undid his pants hurriedly and tossed them to the ground like they meant nothing, giving you plenty enough time to ruffle through your drawer for something to tie your hair back with. 

With your hair out of the way, you patiently sat on your knees as he got just naked enough that you would be able to suck him off. Maybe deep down you had always wanted to. Jisung was exactly the type of guy you were into - the ones that looked away when a pretty girl complimented them and had a beautiful, shy smile. 

It didn’t surprise you that his cock was just as veiny as his hands were, but it did make your mouth run dry. 

“Sweet Jesus,” you mumbled underneath your breath, knowing that you were in for a treat. 

Jisung resisted a smirk. He knew he had a brag-worthy cock that was enough to make any woman lose her everlasting mind, whether she was going down on him or he was going inside her. You were no exception. Matter of fact, all it took was one look before you got a hold of his cock and spat on his pretty tip. 

He swore quietly, watching you attentively. There wasn’t even a need to get him hard because he had already stiffened from the way you were kissing him and grinding against his dick, so you got straight to work. 

You skipped the slow parts - the teasing bits with your tongue at the tip and base of his cock, and immediately went to the action. Jisung said he liked things fast and so that was exactly what you would give him. And he was going to take it like he’d asked.

“Shit. Shit. Fuck,” he cursed, clutching the sheets. You weren’t wasting any time and he almost couldn’t believe it. 

You hadn’t even waited before taking as much of him into your mouth as you could and that made Jisung’s head spin like he was about to explode. And in a way, that wasn’t necessarily untrue. He already knew this was going to be one of his shorter experiences, but definitely one of his better orgasms. 

Jisung groaned loudly. It was a shock, because he was one of the quietest boys you’d ever met, so it wasn’t too hard for you to guess that he was currently enjoying himself. The sound of his euphoric noises were making you horny and you could feel your panties getting even wetter. 

You wanted to fuck him so bad. It was killing you right now. He was just so perfect; so handsome and cute and easy to provoke. You wanted to draw the most sexy, uncontrollable reactions from him and watch what it did to his little male brain. 

Jisung could tell how much you wanted him and it only aroused him more. You were so fucking eager. You were going to town, sucking him off like you were in love with him, like you were worshiping him, and it got him off to an inexplicable extent. He couldn’t even begin to describe how your mouth felt sealed around him like you wanted to suck him completely dry. 

You ran your hands up his stomach, up his thighs. He was sensitive in more places than one, your touches making his breath hitch in his throat. 

“I’m gonna come,” he warned, knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. Not with all the stunts you were pulling.

Damn, already, you thought to yourself, wanting to chuckle. Not that you were actually even remotely surprised. You knew what you were doing; you were ruining him and taking a little piece of him to serve as a reminder of your victory. 

You didn’t slow down. If anything, you went even faster, your head bobbing up and down his shaft like you wanted to eat him for every meal of every goddamn day. Jisung winced his eyes clothed and accepted his fate, knowing he was merely seconds away from the heat in his stomach unfurling. 

With the last piece of his self-control officially waning now that you were sucking his dick like you had something to prove, Jisung involuntarily began thrusting into your mouth, messily fucking your throat with every intention of getting himself off. You let him. At the moment, you were just pleased you’d driven him mad. 

And that you knew for sure, because the buildup of ecstasy at short last began to overflow and Jisung couldn’t take it anymore. He gave one final long, deep moan as he released down your throat and clasped your sheets for purchase, convulsing with the effort. 

Jisung was shaking. When his eyes finally opened, all he saw was you swallowing his load even though he hadn’t asked you to, and it made him burn from the inside out. 

You grinned when he withdrew from your mouth and glanced up to meet his eyes, watching him struggle to find words. “You good?” you asked, shifting on your knees. 

Jisung nodded, but that word didn’t even begin to capture the feeling he had inside right now. That was a revolutionary nut. “I… yeah. I’m good.”

Getting up from your knees, you ignored the faint ache in them and asked, “Do you wanna fuck now?”

“God, yes,” Jisung replied in a heartbeat, stroking himself back rigid. It would happen in no time. 

When he was hard, he gathered you in his arms and tossed you unceremoniously onto the bed, a gasp escaping your mouth as your back met the mattress. Jisung ordered you to raise your hips, which you did on command, and he slipped your panties from underneath you to throw them wherever his pants were. Still unsatisfied, he tugged at your shirt too until you were completely naked.

The sight of you made him hold his breath. Your smooth skin and supple breasts and kissable tummy. He slipped a hand between your legs, wondering if he should return the favor before he fucked you, but he was surprised by how wet you had gotten from giving him pleasure. 

“You really are something else,” he mumbled, running his arousal-slicked fingers over his throbbing dick. 

You laughed, debating what to do with your legs, and ultimately deciding on draping them over his broad shoulders. Jisung groaned, having imagined one too many times how your cunt would feel as he pushed in and out of it silkily, and concluding that there was no point in drawing things out, he slipped between your slick folds. 

He growled in pleasure immediately, because both the way your pussy welcomed him in with ease and the way it invitingly throbbed around him was making him unravel. It was completely insane. The power you had over him right now was lethal and he couldn’t believe how wet and snug you were just for him. 

“Oh, god,” you moaned out, because suddenly your legs on him weren’t enough and you detangled them from his shoulders to wrap around his slim waist instead so that it would be easier to lock your arms around him as well. 

It took a long moment for Jisung to will himself to open his eyes, because they had been winced closed since the moment he felt you tightening around him. He looked you in the eyes. “Is this okay?” he asked softly. 

You nodded your head. His cock was long and thick and veiny and everything in between. You were in a world between heaven and earth, elevating to the gods and struggling to stay grounded. “It’s perfect, baby. Fuck me just like that.”

Jisung felt dizzy. He knew he had been right in choosing you. It wasn’t every girl that could leave him on the cusp of insanity with both her throat and her pussy, and he was still reeling from the head you’d given him. His whole body was scalding with lust and passion as he reaped pleasure from your body with every labored thrust. 

You couldn’t get enough how he felt stroking against your walls and it showed in the way you were kneading and gushing around his cock. The tension in the air was exhilarating, throttling. You grappled his forearms to keep him close, not wanting to be separated when he was fucking you this good. 

“Can you say my name?” Jisung asked, his voice thick with desire. 

“Jisung,” you called out softly, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts in a perfect sync. You simply couldn’t help yourself. This would be your undoing. 

Jisung swore underneath his breath, unable to control the way his stammering hips reacted to the hint of breathlessness in your voice, and smoothed his palms over your beautiful, bare body. He ran his fingers over your cheek, your neck, your chest and your thighs. 

He knew he needed to make you come if he cared about not absolutely humiliating himself, because he was going to unravel in a matter of minutes. With that thought, he stuck his hand between your legs and thumbed your clit, asking, “How does that feel?”

You cried out his name again, shuddering with sensitivity. Your heart was hammering in your chest and pounding in your ears and the throbbing between your legs was brutal. If he was trying to finish you, it was working. You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer. 

Jisung took that as a sign that you liked it and he continued rubbing the sensitive nub, all the while giving you those long, deep strokes you seemed to be enjoying. You couldn’t breathe through the ecstasy. The way he was stretching you out and bringing you high made you feel as if you could choke. 

You trembled beneath him, torn between taking his cock and arching away from the pleasure. “Oh my god. Fuck. I’m gonna come,” you said, feeling the sweat clinging to your skin. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was lying about being a virgin. 

That drew a grunt out of Jisung in anticipation. He didn’t stop touching your clit, didn’t stop stroking your sweet spot. “You gonna come for me?”

You nodded your head vigorously. The rhythm of his thrusts and the relentlessness of his hand between your legs was going to make you see stars. Of that you were certain. Your mouth hung open, gasping for breath, struggling to breathe in the stuffy air. 

Then it finally rammed into you like a freight train and you let out a mangled cry of Jisung’s name as you reached your peak. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. You begged for mercy, overcome. Undone. Your face tensed and you throbbed around his cock over and over, your entire body unstill. 

When you tried to squirm away from it, Jisung held you securely in his arms so that you had no option but to take the pleasure he was giving you, and everything about it made you feel faint. 

He only released you when you went slack against the sheets, the most empty look in your stare as if your soul had been completely snatched from your body, and he couldn’t but moan. God fucking damn. 

Jisung kept fucking you through your orgasm, knowing that his was right around the corner, especially with how you had clamped around him like a noose as you came and the soft moans you were making as he tried to get himself off. It was classic mutually assured destruction. 

You were hyper aware of the wet sound of his hips smacking into yours echoing out on the walls, even wetter now that you had orgasmed on his cock. Knowing the effect he had on you somehow turned you on. You were still trying to collect yourself after having one hell of an orgasm, throwing your arms around his body again. 

“Mm. Jisung, come. I want you to come,” you purred, rubbing your hands down his back. 

Jisung was losing his mind. He knew he was a goner the second you said that and thus he begrudgingly withdrew from your soaked pussy, flipped you onto your stomach, and started to stroke himself the rest of the way with his fist. 

In a matter of seconds, he was groaning so close to and simultaneously too far from your ear, landing a stripe of his cum on your ass as he winced his eyes closed for the nth time. You looked behind you in time to see his face tensing and his lips parted in a perfect deep moan that had you clenching around nothing.

Jisung dropped beside you like a deadweight and tried to gather his breath. His mind was staggering from the orgasm and the tight feel of your cunt around his cock and he wasn’t going to be capable of thinking straight for the next hour or so. 

When you at last willed yourself to move, you brushed the hair out of his face and asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jisung replied, nodding. “Are you?”

“I’m good,” you told him, grinning from ear to ear. You were hoping he wouldn’t leave without your number. The sex was a little too good not to happen again. 

Jisung bobbed his head again. He slowly sat up, knowing his head would spin if he got up too fast, and said, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

You hummed in response, watching his back as he grabbed his pants and stepped out of the room. 

When he was in the bathroom, Jisung whipped out his phone from the pocket of his pants and texted his group chat. 

jisung: just lost my virginity for the 28th time not that i’m counting

mark: lmfaooo how long are these girls gon fall for that shit 

jeno: for real, he lies more than jaemin

jaemin: ntm on me. but i’m impressed he’s kept it up for this long 

haechan: come on. all he has to do is stutter and they’re like aweeee jisungie wungie is your cock heavy? here let me hold that for you

Jisung rolled his eyes and put his phone away. All he knew was the sex was amazing and he was coming back for seconds; you would be the perfect place to dump his cum before the start of November. 

And he wasn’t losing.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

A promise

Summary: You've been in love with General Marcus Acacius, your father's most trusted advisor and friend, ever since you could remember. A kiss on the day you come of age starts an affair that would last for years before you ask him to choose between having you officially as his or not having you at all. Days after, your father the Emperor dies, and the brother who hated you comes to power, wasting no time to make arrangements to marry you off to someone you had never met before, leaving you mourning about what could have been, when Marcus finds you with a surprising solution.

Pairing: General Marcus Acacius x fem. reader

Rating: E

Wordcount: 3.1k

Warnings: my take on the Dad's best friend trope, secret affair, age gap (not specified, but I wrote it with around 20 years in mind), death of a family member, toxic family situations (your siblings hate you), tears, feelings, smut (oral f receiving, unprotected sex), proposals, mentions of hair brushing, Marcus picks reader up but this is fiction so I pretend he could pick everyone up, FLUFF (do not look at me I have no idea what happened there), most likely historically inaccurate, banner as always just for the vibes, reader has no physical description apart from having hair (and if it has please let me know)

A/N: look at me, writing for a character we know almost nothing about. This is definitely not historically accurate, we're just here for the vibes. Tell me what you think cause posting for a new character makes me even more anxious than posting for old characters

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Full Masterlist // Marcus Acacius Masterlist

You had spend all your life being the perfect daughter to your loving father. 

You never complained, always having the greater good in mind. You did everything that had been asked of you, everything that was decided for you, because your father, may the gods bless his soul, the emperor of Rome had promised you that once the time came, you would be allowed to have a say in who would become your husband. 

You loved your father. 

You were the first born and his favourite. And he made sure that all your siblings knew that, leaving you with siblings, that were despising you all your life. 

But now your father was dead and his second born, your brother, had let you know not even a week after your father had been buried, that you were going to marry some Duke you had never met before, who had promised troops and gods knows what for the pleasure of getting to take you as a wife. 

When you dared to complain your brother had reminded you that you were a mere woman and should be thanking him on your knees for a suitable match, giving that he was the only one who had approached him because of you.

You did not even know how he had found the time for his search for a husband for you ever since he had been put on the throne only a week before. 

But deep down you knew, he had only been waiting for a chance to have his petty revenge of you.

Growing up, your brother never grew tired to remind you just how ugly he thought you were. How dumb you were. That the people only talked to you because you were the favourite of your father. 

He talked you down so often, you had started to believe it. 

You would probably be dead by now if it wasn’t for your Father’s most trusted advisor. 

The current general of the roman army. 

Marcus Acacius. 

Your father and him had grown up together. Fought and won wars together. 

And you?

You had the biggest crush on him since you could remember. 

He was just so strong and big and whenever he smiled you, you remembered getting this weird feeling in your belly. The older you got the more you thought about him, imagining how it would be to be with him. 

It was on the day you came of age, a big celebration held in your honour, that you drank a little too much wine and clumsily pressed your lips against his after he volunteered to get you to your room. 

You were mortified when he just looked at you, before turning away and hurrying away from your chambers. 

You didn’t know he would leave the next morning for war. 

You didn’t know that months after when he came back, the war won, celebrations held in his honour, that he would find you in your chambers and kiss you the way you had always dreamed of. 

You didn’t know that seven years later it was still you he chose to see first whenever he came back from a battle. Or… every time he could sneak away really. 

More than once you had asked him why you could not make it official. Acacius was a person of power. While maybe not holding any royal titles, he was the General of the roman armies. If he would have asked your father for your hand, you were sure he would have given his blessing. 

But he had argued against it, thinking it would most likely be seen as a betrayal of the emperor’s trust. 

It made you feel like a dirty little secret and was one of the reasons you had a big fight just days before your father died. 

You had not seen him since apart from the official events you both had to attend. 

After your brother had informed you that you were to be married within the next week so you were out of his palace you had excused yourself to your chambers, dismissing your staff to have some time for yourself. 

You fought back the tears until the doors closed behind your last maid. 

Sitting down on your bed you allowed yourself to cry. 

Cry for your father. 

Cry for Acacius.

Cry for yourself and your future. 

You did not know who this man you had been set to marry was, but it did not matter. 

Of course you were well over the age of getting married, you knew that. But your father did not care. He only cared about your happiness. 

And now here you were, about to marry a stranger, while being in love with someone else. 

Letting your tears fall freely you jumped when your door opened, hastily brushing the tears away when you noticed Marcus as he closed the door behind him. 

„Forgive me for not knocking but I had to see…. What happened?“ He asked, quickly walking towards you. He knelt down in front of you, taking your hands. 

You hadn’t been alone with him since before your father died, when you told him that you were tired of being with him in secret. That you wanted to be his officially. To love him. To marry him. To have his children. 

It may have been childish, giving him an ultimatum to choose to be with or without you, but you were tired of hiding. 

What happened in the days after was a blur. 

And now he was here, his concerned warm eyes looking all over you as if to search for what made you cry. 

„Did somebody hurt you?“ He asked again and you sobbed, leaning down so you could hug him, bringing your face close to his neck, so you could inhale his familiar scent. 

Within seconds his arms were around you and he picked your up before he sat down on your bed with you sitting sideways in his lap. His hand brushing softly over your hair. You had one hand on his shoulder, your other hand wrapped behind his back holding onto his waist, while one of his arms held you securely against him, his other hand softly stroking your hair. 

You felt him kiss the top of your head and you closed your eyes. 

You allowed yourself to relax, melting against him, any arguments you had forgotten. 

Because he was here, and even though you hadn’t parted in the best ways, there was no place in this world were you felt safer than in his arms. 

„I am to be married within the next week,“ you mumbled against his neck and you felt him tense. 

„I learned about it today. My brother did not lose any time to get me out of his sight,“ you joked weakly before you looked up at him. 

You only noticed now hat his hair was still damp. He must have come directly from the baths, wearing only a linen garment. 

Carefully you brought one of your hands up, your fingers resting on his cheek. 

The candle light made him appear like he was glowing and you wondered how you would live without ever having him this close again. 

„He cannot marry you off to whomever he chooses,“ he said and you chuckled weakly. 

„He is the Emperor now. I am afraid that he can do almost everything he sets his mind on.“

He shook his head.

„He can not,“ he said, his grip around you tightening.

„Acacius…“ you began but he shook his head. 

„Do not call me that. Not you,“ he whispered and your eyes softened. 

„Marcus. You must have known that this day would come sooner or later,“ you brushed your fingers through his soft beard. He leaned into your touch. Smiling softly you rested your head back against his shoulder, letting him hold you for a while. 

This was what you would miss most. Just him holding you, giving you comfort. 

„The day before your father died,“ he began after a while, his fingers brushing up and down your spine, „I talked to him about taking a wife,“ he continued. 

You closed your eyes, releasing a long breath. 

„He was actually happy. To be honest he had been asking me for a while if I need any help finding a suitable wife, but I never took his offer for help because I knew who I wanted to marry from the moment you kissed me first,“ he admitted. 

You softly pressed your lips against his neck and you felt it as he took a deep breath. 

„So I told him that I had someone for a while I could see myself spending the rest of my days with. I told him that I was in love and that I would die to protect her. And when he asked when he could meet this incredible woman I told him that he already has, since she was you,“ you looked up at him then, surprised that he had talked to your father. 

„You told him?“ You asked, voice quiet. He nodded. 

„You know what he said? He said that he could not ask for a better man to take care of his daughter,“ Marcus said and you closed your eyes, letting your head fall against his shoulder. 

„But two days later he was dead and your brother had been named the new Emperor. Your father had meant to talk to you, but everything happened so quickly,“ he took a deep breath. 

„Thankfully I did ask for your hand before he died and he agreed as long as you would say yes.“

„Marcus,“ you shook your head, new tears in your eyes. You felt his fingers tilt your chin up. 

„I haven’t come to talk to you earlier, because I knew your brother would plan something like he did. I had to make sure he could not succeed in taking you away from me. Because you’re mine,“ he said with a small smirk. 

„And I protect what is mine,“ he hummed and you gulped, shuddering as his eyes seemed to darken. 

„But before I can protect you the way I intend to, we have to be wed,“ his thumb brushed over your lip. 

„But how? Knowing my brother he is going to announce my engagement within the next days and has me shipped off by the end of the week,“ you said concerned. 

„That would be inconvenient, because our engagement, signed with blessings by the former Emperor, your father, will be released by the morning, with us to be wed within the next three days,“ he said and you were sure you stopped breathing for a moment as he looked at you. 

„Truly?“ You whispered and he nodded. 

Before he could say anything further you threw your arms around him, making him fall back against your bed with you above him, kissing him deeply. You felt him smile against your lips as he pulled you even closer, his hands running down your body, his fingers slipping under your dress. 

Parting from his lips you looked down at him. 

„I thought you left me,“ you whispered and he shook his head. 

„Never,“ he vowed, meeting your lips in a sweet kiss. 

„Then I think you have to ask me a question, General,“ you smiled cheekily and he grinned. 

„Will you do me the honour of being my wife?“ He asked as his hands came to rest on your ass. 

„Usually the man gets on his knees to ask his intended, does he not?“ You teased and he hummed thoughtfully, before he rolled you over so he was on top, kissing your forehead. 

„You are right as always, my love. I shall get on my knees to ask you for your hand,“ he winked before he slowly slipped down your body, his lips kissing a line down your body. Parting your legs wider to make space for him you looked down just as he pulled at the sting of your dress, his fingers parting the fabric so it fell to the side, revealing your naked body to him. 

He kissed your knee and goosebumps spread over your body like wild fire. 

You sat yourself up, leaning on your elbows so you could see him properly. 

His nose brushed up your inner thigh as he settled down between your legs, his breath brushing over you wet cunt as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. 

„I will promise to love you,“ he hummed, his lips pressing against the skin just above your pussy. 

„To cherish you,“ he continued, slowly kissing himself down and you sucked your bottom lip in. 

„To protect you,“ his tongue licked a strip from bottom to top. 

„Until the day I die,“ he hummed before he sucked your clit between his lips. You felt his tongue move over your clit and you moaned softly while his eyes were focused on yours. One of his hands came up to grab one of your tits, massaging it. 

„I will give you everything you want,“ he said as he released your clit only to lick down towards you hole. 

„When you want,“ he licked again. 

„How often you want,“ he winked at you before his tongue entered you, making you moan out his name softly, one of your hands coming down to rest in his soft hair. He hummed against you, his tongue getting you closer and closer to the edge, his fingers pinching your nipple. 

Marcus then focused his attention on your clit, his tongue playing with it while two of his fingers slowly entered you, angling them just the way he knew had you singing his name. 

„Marcus, please,“ you moaned, your head falling back. 

„Cum for me, my love,“ he hummed, flicking his tongue over your clit while his fingers massaged your inner walls and you shattered, your back arching before you let yourself fall back against the mattress, your body shaking with an orgasm so intense you saw stars. 

Melting into the mattress as you tried to calm your racing heart, you smiled when you felt Marcus kiss your hip. 

After a moment you opened your eyes and looked down at him. 

„You still haven’t dropped to your knees or asked a question, General,“ you reminded him and he hummed thoughtfully before he pushed himself up, kneeling between your legs. He pulled his clothing down, leaving him completely naked as he gazed down at you, his eyes dark and his cock hard and leaking. 

His fingers wrapped around his cock, slowly pumping his length. 

Your tongue dared out, wetting your lips, saliva filling your mouth. 

You wanted a taste and judging by his smirk he knew it. 

„I am kneeling,“ he said with a wink. 

„I can see that,“ you sassed and he chuckled, before he released the grip on his cock and lowered his body over yours. You wrapped one of your legs behind him, your feet brushing up and down his leg, as he settled between your legs his cock notching at your hole. 

You smiled up at him as he looked at you, his strong arms resting next to your head to hold himself up. 

„I never thought I would love anyone as much as I love you. You make everything lighter, easier. I want to live my life with you by my side to make it better,“ he rubbed his nose over yours and you could feel tears in the corner of your eyes as you wrapped your arms behind his broad back. 

„Marry me, my love,“ he whispered before he slowly slipped inside of you, his cock filling you every thick inch. 

„Make me the happiest and proudest man in Rome,“ he whispered when his cock had filled you completely. You found his lips in a sweet kiss as he began to move, slowly fucking into you. 

„Marry me,“ he whispered with his lips against yours as he moved faster, his hips meeting yours with an audible smack every time his cock filled you. 

„Let me fill you with as many children as you’re willing to give me,“ he groaned against your ear while you moaned, his body moving over yours with every thrust into you. Your walls clenched his cock inside of you, making him groan. Arching your back against his chest you began to meet his thrusts, your fingers digging into the warm skin on his back.

„As many as I want?“ You asked and he nodded and you made sure to keep your leg wrapped around him, making it clear that you would not let him pull out of you today. 

„Marry me,“ he moaned his forehead coming to rest against yours as your lips parted with a long moan as you came on his cock, your eyes only closing for a moment before you opened them just in time to see his eyes when you gasped a

„Yes“

To his question, his cock almost immediately twitching inside of you as he came and filled you with his seed for the first time.

He stayed like that for a moment before he kissed you and rolled you around so you were resting on top of him. 

He softened inside of you, your joined release dripping into the sheets but you could not bring yourself to care. You leaned with your arm on his chest, looking up at him with bright eyes. 

„What if I had said no?“ You asked with a small smile. 

„Then I would have spend more time convincing you to say yes,“ he smiled, his fingers brushing over your naked shoulder. You pressed your lips against his strong chest. 

You knew that once word got out about your engagement, Rome would not be safe for you anymore, no matter how much influence he had with his post. 

Your brother would find a way to have his way. 

There was only one way for a chance of the happy life you both imagined. 

„If I asked you to leave Rome with me to start a new life somewhere else, what would you say?“ You asked him. 

„I would ask when you want to leave,“ he smiled before he leaned down to kiss you. 

[thewillofdeez]

A Very AkaTaka Birthday

18+! Minors DNI!!!

Summary: It's Mihawk's birthday. His girlfriend gets him a very special surprise......a visit from his boyfriend, Shanks.

Characters: Mihawk, Shanks, Fem Reader

Warnings: Smut, smut, and more smut. Some plot at the beginning, established relationships. Threesome, polyamory, shibari, cum play, oral sex, 69, anal sex, straight sex......

Note: Started this almost a year ago, dropped it for a while, then scrambled to finish it in time to post today, on Shanks and Mihawk's birthday. This is the dirtiest, most foul, nasty, pornographic thing I've ever written in my life. Hope you enjoy! ^_^

It was Mihawk’s birthday, which meant it was Shanks’s birthday too. Mihawk had never been a big fan of his birthday and never actively celebrated it when given the choice, but every March 9th he found himself wondering if that choice would be taken away from him by his long-term partner…or as Shanks liked to say, his “birthday buddy.” Mihawk hated the term, and hated how most people didn’t respect his desire to not celebrate, but he did love Shanks very much and found it hard to say no to the man, who always, he had to admit, made it worth his while. Regardless, Shanks wasn’t here, and he was spending the day hiding in his room on Karai Barai Island. Just to be safe.

For a couple that had been together for over a decade, the two couldn’t have been more different. Mihawk was thoughtful, reticent, and careful. Shanks was fun-loving, boisterous, and pretty much an open-book. And yet, somehow, they worked well together. Sometimes Mihawk found himself wondering if the reason that they worked was because of their unique arrangement. Mihawk enjoyed living his life in a mostly solitary manner, while Shanks was the captain of one of the most powerful pirate crews in the world. They met up a few times a year, and perhaps it was this absence that made their hearts grow fonder. Sure, Mihawk missed his partner when he was away, but it just made the time they got together all the more special.

On top of that, their relationship was ethically non-monogamous. Shanks had a mix of casual encounters and long-term partners (none of whom had outlasted Mihawk yet for a variety of reasons), while Mihawk preferred to keep his sex life casual…well, he had anyway. That was before he met Y/N.

Y/N was the fourth member of the Cross Guild, and an old friend of Buggy’s. Buggy had asked her to join to manage some areas of the business that neither Mihawk, Crocodile, nor himself were adept at, and she jumped at the opportunity. Mihawk started falling for her when they first met….it was rather terrifying for him. His whole adult life he’d never carried such feelings for anyone besides Shanks. And yet, here she was….beautiful, skilled and – beyond his wildest dreams – falling for him too, and completely okay with his existing relationship.

Mihawk thought back to when he’d told Shanks about the new person in his life.

He’d stood before the transponder snail nervously for several minutes. Why the hell was he so nervous? He’d been on the receiving end of this call a dozen times, and it was always fine….but he’d never been the one making it. He’d never had a problem with Shanks sharing his heart in addition to his bed, but he wondered how his lover would handle being on the other side for the first time.

Taking a deep breath, he’d picked up the receiver, listening to the familiar ‘badabadabada.’

“Well hey there, Hawk-eyes,” Shanks drawled over the phone, his smirk visible through the snail. “How’s the business going?”

Mihawk couldn’t help but smile a little. He always forgot how much he enjoyed hearing Shanks’s voice.

“It’s fine, I suppose. It’s certainly lucrative. Shanks, I…I’d like to talk to you about something.”

Shanks’s brow furrowed in concern. “Of course, ‘Hawk….everything okay?”

“Yes, everything is fine….” Mihawk replied nervously. “Shanks…I met someone here. A woman. I….think I love her.”

The line was silent for a moment, then Shanks’s boisterous laughter came over the line. “Mihawk! That’s awesome! Holy shit, man, I thought you were gonna break up with me for a second there.”

Mihawk let out a nervous chuckle, “No, we’ve already established that I’m stuck with you for life. I’m just nervous…I’ve never felt like this about anyone except you. It’s strange. And scary. And…I wanted to make sure you were okay with it.”

Shanks grinned broadly. “I’d be a hell of a hypocrite if I wasn’t okay with you having a relationship while I’m over here having three including you. ‘Hawk, you deserve love too, since I can’t be around to give it to you all the time. It’s more than okay. Tell me about her.”

Mihawk smiled softly and told him about Y/N…how they met, how they got together, what he loved about her, everything. He also assured Shanks that she was aware of the situation, and that everything was consensual and she was fine with it.

Shanks chuckled. “You’ve got it bad, man. She sounds perfect. Can I meet her? Or at least talk to her? If you’re both okay with it, that is.”“She’d love that, actually, she’s asked me the same thing. I’ll arrange with her some time where you two can talk in private.”

“Perfect. I can’t wait. I love you, Mihawk.”

“I love you too.”

That was just a few weeks ago. True to his word, Mihawk had arranged for Y/N and Shanks to speak, and he was surprised when the conversation lasted well into the night. It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning that she’d snuck into his bed.

Mihawk had groggily rolled over to capture her in his arms when he felt the bed shift beside him.

“I take it the call went well?” he’d said, his voice heavy with sleep.

Y/N let out a soft chuckle and curled up next to him. “It did. He’s fun. And he obviously loves you a lot. I can’t wait to meet him.”

Mihawk planted a soft kiss on her head, holding her close. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.” And with that, they both drifted off into sleep.

A knock on the door broke Mihawk from his thoughts. He looked up to see Y/N’s head peek in.

“Are you hiding?” she said, her voice teasing. She walked over to the large armchair where Mihawk sat and crawled onto his lap, bringing him in for a kiss. He paid little mind to the bag she was carrying.

“Until it’s tomorrow, yes,” he replied, wrapping his arms around her. “How did things go without me today?”

Y/N shrugged. “Business as usual, nothing too exciting. Buggy’s crew made you a cake.”

Mihawk rolled his eyes. “They would.”

She giggled and began kissing his neck. “You’re more likable than you think, you know. They love you.”

“That’s because we’re cult leaders, they don’t have a choice,” he deadpanned. She laughed in response.

“There you go, saying the quiet part out loud again.” She smiled and kissed his lips, placing a hand on his chest. “So….I know your birthday isn’t your thing…”

“Ugh, not you too, Y/N…” he said with a scoff.

“No, no, listen!” she said quickly. “I have a surprise for you. I promise you it’s something you’ll like, and you don’t have to leave this room for it. You don’t even have to think of it as something for your birthday, you can just think of it as…..something special that happens to occur on March 9th. Will you trust me?”

Mihawk narrowed his eyes at her. “It’d better be a sexy surprise.”

“Oh it is,” she smirked, her voice getting lower and she kissed along his neck and jaw. “Very sexy. But when I say I need you to trust me…I need you to trust me . Okay? If you want to stop at any point, it’s fine, I promise…but let me at least get started?”

Mihawk wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. It was still the early weeks of their relationship, and while they had certainly explored things each other liked and knew about what they didn’t like, he was a little cautious to be working off of no information. But he did trust her, entirely.

Mihawk nodded. “I trust you, Y/N, completely. Do I get to know anything about what we’ll be doing?”

“Nope,” she replied with a mischievous grin. “You’re going in blind. Now, I need you to strip down to your boxers.” She began unbuttoning his shirt, kissing along his neck and collarbone. When it was fully unbuttoned, she removed herself from his lap.

Mihawk chuckled. “As you wish,” he replied, obeying her request. He removed the shirt, then his pants and socks, leaving him in only his tight black boxer briefs. Y/N grinned, seeing how he was already becoming excited.

“Perfect,” she replied. “Now come over here.” She picked up the bag with one hand and with the other guided him to the large bed. “I want you to kneel on the bed for me.” Mihawk obeyed without a word, kneeling by the headboard and resting back on his calves, curious as to where this was going. He watched as she pulled out a long silk scarf from the bag.

“And where exactly will that be going?” he asked curiously.

Y/N crawled onto the bed and knelt before him, kissing him deeply. “Over those pretty eyes of yours, of course. Is that okay?” He nodded slowly, and she folded the scarf and wrapped it around his head, tying it tightly but not too much so. “Is that comfortable enough? Can you see anything?”

“It’s fine,” he responded, “And no, I can’t.”

“Good,” she said, running her fingers down his chest. “And no Observation Haki either. That will spoil the fun. Promise me?”

“I promise…” he said in a shuddering breath as he felt her fingers along his skin, the sensation already becoming heightened.

He heard her chuckle, then felt the bed shift, and heard her rummage through the bag. He desperately wanted to know what else she had in there. He got his answer when he felt thick, silky material being dragged across his skin: rope.

“I know you usually prefer to be the one doing the tying….is it alright if I tie you up?”

He smiled, appreciating that she was asking him at every step along the way. It made him feel more comfortable with being in a vulnerable position. “You know mere ropes can’t restrain me….but you can certainly try.”

“That’s all I needed to hear…” she said. He felt her move around him as she began tying him up, using some of the more simplistic shibari knots he had taught her. When she was done, his legs were completely free and still in a kneeling position, but his arms were bound completely behind his back and to his torso. He struggled a little, testing the strength of the ropes. Yes, he could certainly break them into strings if he really wanted, but he wouldn’t….not unless she asked him to anyway.

He felt the mattress shift as she removed herself from the bed. He could feel her eyes on him. “You look so good like this,” she said as she ran her fingers through his hair. “Now, I’ll be right back. I need to prepare your surprise….and remember: no Observation Haki. You promised.”

Mihawk smirked. “I did indeed. Do what you need to….I’m not going anywhere.”

He heard her giggle and walk away. Mihawk knew that she knew that Observation Haki wasn’t so easy to just turn on and off like a lightswitch. It was basically second nature. So in order to obey her request, Mihawk relaxed his body and focused on breathing, trying to bring himself into a slightly meditative state - enough that he wouldn’t instinctively focus on his Haki, but not enough that he wouldn’t be ready when she returned.

Mihawk’s reverie was broken when he felt the bed shift again and soft lips meet his. He grinned. “Welcome back,” he said, his tone sultry.

He was surprised when he felt another set of lips on his immediately after - rougher, and surrounded by coarse hair. He felt his breath catch in his throat. “Shanks?”

Mihawk felt the blindfold being untied from behind his head. He shook it off, desperate to see if he was right. Opening his eyes, Shanks was before him, the younger man already stripped down to his burgundy boxer briefs and a crooked smirk on his face.

“Hey there, Hawk-eyes,” he said with a grin. Y/N came up behind the red head and draped her arms around his shoulders, kissing his neck softly.

Mihawk couldn’t suppress a smile. “Well if this isn’t the most welcome sight I’ve ever seen. I can’t say I haven’t dreamed of this happening….it’s just a shame I can’t touch you,” he said, struggling against his restraints halfheartedly.

Shanks chuckled. “We’re in charge of your pleasure tonight. All you have to do,” he began, pushing Mihawk’s body back against the pillows and headboard,”....is relax.” Shanks straddled Mihawk and began to rub his clothed cock against the dark-haired man’s. They both groaned in pleasure at the feeling as Shanks moved his hips in slow waves. Shanks leaned into Mihawk’s ear and whispered, “Let the people you love take care of you…”

Mihawk and Shanks looked into each other’s eyes, then shared a deep, passionate kiss. Y/N sat at the edge of the bed, enjoying watching them. When the kiss broke, Shanks turned to her. “I didn’t come all this way just so you can watch,” he said with a grin. “Come here.”

Y/N obeyed and joined the two men, the three of them kissing passionately, licking, biting, and exploring each other’s bodies. Well…exploring each other’s and Mihawk’s body, as Mihawk was still bound, much to his frustration. But they made it worth his while, their hands roaming over his body, their lips on his skin all over…it was almost overwhelming. Eventually the three broke apart, panting and catching their breath. Shanks looked at Y/N mischievously and moved to the other end of the bed.

“Come here, pretty lady,” he said, beckoning her to him with a curled finger. She crawled across the bed to him and they embraced each other, kneeling on the soft mattress and kissing passionately. Mihawk couldn’t deny he loved the site, both on a sexual level and as something deeper…he couldn’t wait to see where this night would take them, but he had a good feeling.

Mihawk watched as his lovers kissed and touched all over, shivers shooting through his body as Shanks latched onto her neck and caused her to moan, after which he lowered his body onto hers, pushing her down on the bed.

Shanks looked up at him with a smirk. “It may be your birthday, Taka no Me,” he said, “But it’s mine too. And if it’s okay with you….I’d like to fuck your girlfriend.”

Mihawk huffed out a laugh, his heart pounding in his chest. “Do it. I want to see you fuck her. I want you to make her scream the way I do.”

Shanks smiled widely, then turned his attention to the woman under him. Mihawk watched as they kissed passionately, their hands roaming. With a smirk, Y/N helped Shanks remove his underwear, leaving him completely naked. She reached down to stroke him a few times, and Mihawk could feel his mouth beginning to water. It had been far too long since he’d felt Shanks’s cock in his mouth….but that would have to wait.

He watched as Y/N stripped herself of her remaining clothes until they were both naked together. Shanks knelt between her knees and ran his fingers along her hips and thighs, and Mihawk could see the goosebumps forming on her skin. Her body arched as Shanks inserted a finger into her dripping core, then another, slowly moving them in and out.

Shanks chuckled. “She’s so wet, ‘Hawk. Does she taste as good as she looks?”

Mihawk grinned devilishly. “Why don’t you find out?”

With permission given, Shanks sunk down and buried his face in her core, causing her to arch her body against him, craving his touch. His tongue was relentless, swirling around her clitoris and running up and down along her folds, dipping ever so slightly into her dripping hole. He worked her with his tongue and fingers, and her moans filled the room. Mihawk knew, at this point in their relationship, exactly what to touch and lick in order to send Y/N over the edge, but Shanks didn’t. From this vantage point he could see Shanks trying all of his tricks, trying to find what made her react in the ways he wanted.

“Fuck, Shanks!” she cried as his tongue flicked her clitoris just right, letting him know that that was the spot, right there. His fingers worked harder, the pressure just right. “Please keep going, please don’t stop…..”

But Shanks was, if nothing else, a tease, and nothing turned him on more than having his partner begging and pleading for him. He pulled away, licking his lips and smirking as she looked up at him with wide eyes.

Shanks looked over to Mihawk, his brown eyes sparkling. “Fucking delicious.”

“Mind coming over here and giving me a taste?” Mihawk replied. Shanks grinned and went to where Mihawk was still kneeling, his body tied, his erection pushing the elastic of his boxer briefs to the limit. He leaned in and kissed Mihawk, his tongue going deep into the other man’s mouth, allowing him to taste what Y/N gave him.

Y/N watched as the two men shared her release. She flipped herself onto her front, watching and waiting for Shanks to join her again, eager for the red-haired pirate to finish what he started. When they separated, she wiggled her ass playfully, letting him know she was ready. Shanks returned to her and knelt behind her, lining his cock up with her pink, puffy lips. He sunk into her quickly, all in one thrust, and began to move.

It was almost animalistic, Mihawk thought, as he watched Shanks fuck Y/N. Her back arched like a cat in heat as Shanks pounded into her rapidly, his hand gripping her hip tightly. Shanks and Mihawk locked eyes as the younger man moved, a look that said ‘ Patience…this will be you soon enough .’ Mihawk’s eyes watched hungrily as his boyfriend fucked his girlfriend, so hard and fast the bed shook until they both came. Y/N collapsed, clearly in need of a break. Shanks pulled out and watched as his release dripped out of her core and down her thighs. He placed two fingers at her core, gathering their mixed releases on them and then sticking them in his mouth, sucking them dry as Mihawk watched hungrily. He then grabbed a small towel and helped her clean up, kissing her softly.

“You take a break, get some water,” he said. “I think our man has waited long enough. Come join us when you’re ready.” Y/N could only nod and give a quiet uh huh , retreating to the other side of the room to catch her breath.

With Y/N in recovery, Shanks turned his attention to his bound partner, a playful grin on his face as he leaned in and kissed Mihawk again, his hand wandering down along the soft black ropes and Mihawk’s pale skin until his hand grasped his cock through his underwear. Mihawk let out a groan, his head rolling back.

“You’ve been so patient while I have my fun,” Shanks drawled, running his hand along Mihawk’s erection. “You deserve to be rewarded.” Shanks began tugging down the fabric, and Mihawk’s cock popped out, fully at attention and dripping with precum. Shanks mindlessly licked his lips before lowering his head and tasting the liquid that leaked from Mihawk’s cock. “Goddamn, Hawk-eyes, I missed you….” Mihawk tried to respond but the words were ripped from his throat and replaced with a moan as Shanks’s lips wrapped around the head of his cock and began sucking, his tongue swirling around the tip and flicking at the frenulum.

“Fuck, Shanks…” Mihawk could only gasp out. The sensation was like electricity in his veins, he could feel every nerve in his body igniting at once as Shanks’s mouth worked him. Shanks’s head sunk down, taking all of Mihawk’s length in his mouth with barely a gag, a skill Shanks was incredibly proud of. His hand reached below to play with Mihawk’s balls as his head moved up and down, bringing his lips all the way up to just kiss his tip before taking him entirely again.

“Shanks…” Mihawk rasped. “Shanks, let me suck you. Want your cock in my mouth. Missed it so much.”

Shanks released Mihawk’s cock with a soft popping sound. “Now, now, Mihawk, it’s my turn to pleasure you.”

Mihawk shook his head, the need to feel Shanks’s cock against his tongue making him feel almost desperate. “Please. Shanks…please.”

Shanks chucked. “Aww ‘Hawk, baby, you know I have trouble saying no to you.” Shanks positioned Mihawk so he was laying down flat on the bed.

“Can…can you untie me? Please?” Shanks looked over to Y/N who was sipping on some water and watching the scene before her with interest. She only shrugged.

“He’s the birthday boy too. We should give him what he wants.”

Shanks nodded. “All right then. Y/N, give me a hand? I only have one,” he quipped with a wink.

She came over and helped Shanks undo the shibari knots, taking her time and enjoying how red and full their cocks were in anticipation. Eventually she removed the ropes entirely, discarding them on the ground. His hands now freed, Mihawk pounced on Shanks, kissing him deeply, his fingers running through his partner’s red hair. Shanks was just as eager, and they fell back on the bed, their bodies entwined. Y/N returned to her chair to continue enjoying the show, allowing her partner and her new friend to enjoy each other some more.

Mihawk was almost frantic in his movements as he pushed Shanks back on the bed and latched onto his cock. Shanks threw his head back as Mihawk swallowed him in one swift movement, his nose buried in the coarse auburn hair surrounding it.

“‘Hawk, fuck …..,” he rasped. “Come here, I wanna take care of you too.” Mihawk quickly removed his mouth from Shanks and rotated his body so Shanks could pleasure him as well before sucking him down again. The two men found a comfortable position on their sides, their mouths latched onto each other’s cocks as they sucked and licked at each other. Mihawk groaned at the feeling; Shanks always did fit perfectly inside of him. He relished the remaining traces of Y/N’s release and swirled his tongue around Shanks, trying to get every remaining drop.

Y/N watched the two men tangled together, Mihawk’s arms wrapped around Shanks’s legs, pulling him so close they looked like they could be absorbed into each other, and Shanks doing the same. This dance was so intimate, so loving, and she smiled at how much they clearly loved each other.

Mihawk came first, his body tensing as he shot his load down Shank’s throat. Shanks came just a few seconds later, Mihawk swallowing every drop with ease. The two men separated, rolling onto their backs, and panting at the exertion.

Y/N sauntered back over to the bed. She sat down by Mihawk, leaning down and giving him a soft, gentle kiss, then giving Shanks the same.

Mihawk, for his part, was feeling a little overwhelmed, but in a good way. The desire, the passion, the sheer fucking love he felt for these two people beside him. He wanted them both desperately, wanted to hold tightly to them and never let them go.

“Shanks, Y/N…” he rasped. “I need you. Both of you.”

Y/N and Shanks exchanged a look, understanding what their lover was asking for. She kissed Mihawk one more time, and he kissed her back, his tongue snaking its way into her mouth.

“How do you want to do this?” she asked.

Shanks grinned. “You lay down, Y/N. Near the edge of the bed but not at it.” Y/N obeyed, taking her position, her legs spread wide before them. He then turned to Mihawk, his hand running slowly down the swordsman’s chest, both of their hearts beating with anticipation. They had never done this particular act before with a third person, but it was certainly something Mihawk had always dreamed of doing - and tonight that dream appeared to be coming true.

Shanks and Mihawk shared one more, deep kiss before breaking apart. Mihawk opened a drawer on the side table, pulling out a tube of lubricant and unscrewing the top, handing it to Shanks. Mihawk then knelt on the bed and positioned himself between Y/N’s legs, his cock once again hard and dark red, and eager to be buried deep in her warmth. He looked down at the woman before him, her skin freckled with love marks on her neck and shoulders, and it occurred to him that he must look much the same way. Capturing her lips in a kiss, he entered her slowly, groaning at the sensation of her tight pussy engulfing him entirely. When he was fully seated inside of her, he waited, fighting back the urge to move and start fucking her; as difficult as it was, he knew his patience would be rewarded. Y/N, for her part, was squirming below him, desperate for friction. Mihawk gave her a sultry look and a short, reprimanding bite on his shoulder.

“Patience, darling,” he said softly, “It’ll be worth the wait….for both of us.”

Just then, Mihawk felt Shank’s lips on his shoulder, and craned his neck to the side to allow the other man access. “You two ready?” Shanks asked.

Y/N nodded. “Ready.”

Mihawk sat up and captured Shanks’s lips with his own before returning to his position. “There’s nothing I want more.”

He broke the kiss and adjusted his position so Shanks could enter him from behind. Mihawk was positioned on his knees near the edge of the bed, his cock buried inside Y/N. He splayed his legs out wider to allow Shanks the best access, and Y/N wrapped her legs around Mihawk’s torso. His breath shuddered when he felt Shanks behind him, the tip of his lover’s cock prodding gently at his entrance. Mihawk took a deep breath and Shanks entered him, the pain and pleasure so familiar and so overwhelming he felt like his body was on fire. He moved his hands to take both of Y/N’s in his, pinning them above her head and squeezing them tightly as his back arched.

What felt like ages was only a few seconds - and the three of them were joined together, Mihawk buried deep inside Y/N, and Shanks buried in Mihawk. For a moment, Mihawk and his two lovers remained still, enjoying the feeling of being connected in this way. Mihawk looked down at Y/N, and she smiled up at him, brushing a damp lock of black hair from his face. Behind him, Shanks was running his fingers gently down Mihawk’s back. And then, Mihawk began moving.

He pulled his hips back slowly first, feeling Shanks filling him completely, then, thrusted forward roughly, causing Y/N to let out a loud moan. With every pull back Shanks filled him more, and with every thrust he filled Y/N, and it wasn’t long before the three found a perfect rhythm, a chorus of moans and whimpers filling the room. Mihawk’s hips rolled with abandon as he enjoyed both of his lovers in the most intimate possible way.

Shanks’s hand gripped Mihawk’s hip, as he met each of Mihawk’s thrusts with one of his own, his lover’s ass gripping his cock tightly. On Mihawk’s other side, below him, Y/N could feel everything, not only the cock of the man inside of her, but every thrust Shanks offered from behind him as well, making it all the more forceful.

Mihawk’s mind was a haze of pleasure. He’d never felt this, both filling and being filled, and what’s more, by the two people he loves more than anything in the world. The people he’d kill for and die for, the people with whom he sometimes allowed himself to fantasize about a life after piracy together. The feeling of love, the feeling of Y/N’s core sucking his cock in, the feeling of Shanks ramming in and out of him, it was so much, it was too much it—

Mihawk roared as he came, a sound that surely must have been heard by everyone on the island. Y/N followed almost immediately after, her fingernails leaving deep red marks down his back, and then Shanks, whose thrusts shuddered erratically and then stilled entirely.

They were a mess of sweat and cum and blissful, ridiculous love. Shanks pulled out first, cleaning himself and Mihawk off gently with a towel. Mihawk felt like his heart would never stop beating this fast, his ears wouldn’t stop ringing, and his mind would be eternally this blank - surely, a sacrifice that would have been worth it. It was only when he heard Y/N giggle below him that he started to come back down to earth.

“Hey. You can’t stay like this all night, you know,” she said with a playful grin.

“Can’t I though?” The words were barely more than a whisper. She kissed him softly and lifted herself up onto her elbows. With a begrudging sigh, Mihawk pulled out of her, almost losing his balance as he tried to stand. Shanks was quick to catch him, his arm wrapping around the swordsman’s torso.”

“Come on, ‘Hawk. Let’s get you some water and get cleaned up.”

Y/N poured Mihawk a glass of water, then headed towards the bathroom. “I feel like we could all use a bath right about now.”

Shanks collapsed on the bed with a grunt, the only sound of affirmation he could make. Mihawk then handed him the remaining water in the glass, and he drank it down. Shanks then turned to his partner with a crooked smile.

“Happy birthday, Hawkeyes. I love you.”

Mihawk smiled, the kind of gentle, genuine smile so few ever got to see. “I love you too, Shanks. Thank you. For everything.”

The two men kissed as the ambient sound of running water from the bathroom created a relaxing sound like white noise, and they once again lost themselves in each other.

Shanks broke the kiss. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Mihawk replied, his voice low. “Anything.”

“How would you feel if you and me and Y/N were…a thing? A closed thing? Just…the three of us?”

Mihawk’s eyes widened in surprise, then he laughed. “Is this your idea of settling down?”

Shanks grinned and rolled onto his back. “I dunno, maybe? I…broke things off with my other two relationships. They were fine, but….I guess I’m at an age where I’m kinda craving some sort of stability. And with the way things are going…..I have a feeling that it won’t be long before my duty to protect the One Piece is fulfilled. And then…..”

“And then we can do whatever we want. Together.” Mihawk smiled, taking Shanks’s hand and kissing it gently. “I would like that, Shanks. I really would. I don’t know what that life will look like, but if it means I can be with you and with Y/N for the rest of my days….I’d like that. And I think she might too….but I’ll let you broach that topic with her on your own. We’ll figure it out, all of us together.”

Shanks nodded, “I hope so. I like her, Mihawk. Just talking to her on the transponder….I feel like we really clicked. And in person? Wow...” He sighed. “You got yourself a good one there. I think we all could be really happy together, for a really long time, if that’s something she wants too.”

“Guys, come on!” Y/N’s voice rang from the bathroom. “This tub is far too big for just one person!”

Shanks chuckled. “Sounds like our girl needs us.”

Mihawk smiled. Our girl. “Then let us not keep her waiting.”

[heyhilana]

Say Yes (Javier Peña and Horacio Carrillo)

Summary: Carrillo and Peña work closely with you during the takedown of Escobar. With tension rising between you three and you inviting them in to your apartment, a drink turns into everything you fantasized about and more.

A/N: Ha, remember when I posted this accidentally? Welp, that's what happens when you don't check your queue for a few months LMAO. But at last, it's here after many months of writing this on and off since this was a new challenge for me as I've never written a threesome before. I'm 90% sure this is right because I'm running off of low sleep and I will come back to edit this if I need to but I hope you enjoy! As always, drink water and stay beautiful 💚

Pairing: Javier Peña and Horacio Carrillo x !f reader (I believe that's how you do it pls correct me if I'm wrong)

Warnings: (A list whew and I was even thinking about dp but another time) Light spanking, hair pulling, cunt spanking, f and m receiving oral, p in v penetration (don't be silly wrap it up like candy) cumshot on stomach, cumshot on tongue. I think that's it but I will add more if I need to :)

Tagged: @squidlywiddly87 (uh now you can read this LMAO but I hope you enjoy!)

Word count: 7.7k (I promise this was supposed to be shorter)

“Care to come up for a drink?” An innocent question led to a night that was unforgettable if it could be put into words. It sparked something that the three of you were oblivious to. There was tension between the three of you, a sexual tension to be exact, but it was unspoken due to work. Murphy would make note of it, seeing how Carrillo and Peña would look at you when it was ridiculously hot out, you having to strip off a layer or two to keep yourself cool. Your shirt would cling to your body due to the sweat, outline your breasts more than the shirt would do when you weren’t sweating.

He would also make note of how you would take notice of how their shirts would cling to their muscles, seeing how sculpted their bodies were. Carrillo’s arms were…intimidating for some people. But for you, they were what led to a pool of arousal to form in your underwear. Those pants that Javi would wear, that would shape the lower half of his body, mainly his butt, well, you always wondered what it looked like without his clothes on. The three of you thought that you were discreet about the lust that you had for each other, but Steve always took note of it, just to see the annoyed expressions on either one of your faces.

Was he wrong? Not exactly. It was obvious that there was something between the three of you, a carnal desire that was mistaken for something so little, almost nothing in your lives. Sure, there was flirting exchanged from the three of you. One-liners coming from both Carrillo and Peña that would leave you blushing. You playing with their stuff like taking Peña’s aviators or taking Carrillo’s walkie talkie, forcing them to chase after you and grab you, making you all feel slightly aroused by the close proximity that you all shared. It was friendly on the surface, but it was bordering a line of no return. You all were determined to keep it as nothing more, nothing less.

But the lines were getting closer to being blurred by touching each other. It was more frequent, and it was getting harder to never let it drift down to where it was actually needed. You longed for a touch on the arm to go to them grabbing your breasts, just like they longed for you to go to palming them in their pants. And maybe it had to go further with them going under your shirt, getting a chance to let their rough, calloused hands touch your soft skin. Maybe it was necessary for you to reach down, going to their underwear to feel the thin material only making their erections more prominent. Maybe it was necessary to just strip everything off, to act on impulse and do what felt right in that moment. After all, protocol could be broken in desperate measures.

Needless to say, it wasn’t hard to let your mind go down a road of endless possibilities of having just one of them take you, perhaps letting both of them take you. Late nights alone in your apartment could be filled with you moaning their names, one hand down your cotton shorts and the other palming your breast, letting profanities slip out as you drew yourself closer to an orgasm. You thought of having one fucking you senseless and the other fucking your face, neither one of them taking any action in slowing down their actions. How they could edge you closer to an orgasm, but deny it in the last second, seeing you whine at the loss of their touch that was a drug to you. You thought of how they would love to see you beg for more, to fuck you harder, to let you cum, to make you forget the day’s events until you were seeing white.

You just wished that they would take you one day so that you wouldn’t have to wonder how big they actually were in those pants that would occasionally outline their cocks. The image of them right before you, their cocks painfully hard and waiting to fill your mouth up and reach the back of your throat. To feel those soft, delicate hands of yours wrap around it, pumping it slowly and making eye contact with them as you did it, batting those eyelashes at them before taking them in your mouth again was what brought you on the brink of an orgasm. The image of them waiting to take you so they could ruin everything about you, leave you with your makeup running down your face and a hoarse voice from all the screaming of their names would be imprinted in your brain.

And in their respective homes your name could be escaping their lips, their hand down their boxers, pumping slowly and letting a finger circle around the tip, wishing it was your tongue on their cock. They wanted to look down to see that mouth of yours stretched wide open, trying to fit their cock in your mouth so it could reach new depths. They wanted to thrust into your mouth, grab your hair so they could take control while you took it all like the good girl that you were. They wanted to hear and feel you gag on their cocks, making them grunt and whisper sweet nothings to you about how you were doing a good job of taking them with no complaints.

Sweat would be dripping down their face as they thought of taking you in the office after seeing you in a tight blouse and equally tight pants, just wanting to rip the blouse open and hear the buttons fall on the floor as they took a breast out of your bra to suck on them, hearing soft moans come out one by one from you before they just took you on the fucking desk. Out in the open to relieve some stress and try to see who could make the other cum first before going home to finish the activities. Or even after a night of going out and going back to each other’s homes like this one, maybe acting on impulse to kiss you instead of watching you walk in, seeing the way your pants cuffed your ass the way they would cuff it with their hands.

The fantasy was alive in your minds, but you guys wouldn’t act on it. Escobar was what mattered, not having Pena and Carrillo strip you naked and take you until you just couldn’t take it anymore, your sensitivity making it impossible to take it from either one of them. Them fucking you until your juices are just coating their fucking cocks, screaming so fucking loud that the cars that drive by are barely audible. Them getting off on seeing you in a state of euphoria, the high of cumming multiple times would have you see white as your eyes rolled back. But Escobar was the top priority, and impulsive decisions were never good. They were unnecessary risks that led to consequences that the faint hearted couldn’t handle.

“One drink won’t hurt, right?” Peña looked at you, and then Carrillo. Carrillo was hesitant, not knowing what one drink would do. One drink was the fatality of all morally right decisions. It could be the drink that led to answers of questions that a sober person would normally omit. It could be a detriment to a friendship, a relationship even. It could change the dynamics of how you would all look at each other, knowing how you all were in a different environment without the looming pressure of catching Escobar on your minds. To let all the stress, whether it would be mental, emotional, or physical just escape for once. That was what one drink could do, but was it worth it?

“Just say yes. That’s all you gotta do.” You bit your lip as you said it, your fingers twirling your keys as you waited for his answer. Were you trying to entice Carrillo by biting your lip? Yes, but what would a little lip bite do to someone? It wouldn’t hurt anyone. What would hurt would be how they would take you objectively, just as you imagined they would. A pain that would be worth feeling as it drew you closer to climaxing and fulfilling a fantasy that was created in the depths of your mind the moment you transferred down to Columbia and laid your eyes on the two of them.

“Yes,” With the way that he said it, it was almost as if he was trying to familiarize himself with that word. After all, it was used in a context of agreeing to go upstairs to a woman’s apartment that he’s been waiting to fuck for as long as he could remember. A smile tugged at your lips from his response and you went to open the door, feeling both of their eyes on your ass. You decided to make it interesting for you by dropping your keys, bending down to reach them, putting your ass out on the forefront for them to look at and long to touch, as were you longing to have them touch you in the most intimate of places.

You finally opened the door, turning on the light and placing your keys on the table, moving out of the way so they could walk in. You took notice of their outfits, Carrillo in that dark green outfit that was a tad bit too tight around his arms, highlighting how strong he was on top. You looked over to Pena, seeing that his shirt was unbuttoned, sweating near his neck which only made it harder to ignore how his neck was a turn on for you. It was just so strong, and it only looked hotter when he was angry. The way his neck would be flexed, the tension reminding you of how his arms would be flexed when he would be man-handling a suspect. You forced yourself to peel your eyes away from them and walked over to the kitchen, going to the refrigerator. Knowing that beer was the “safer” option for three of you, you pulled out three bottles, feeling that wine would be a bit too formal for a night like this.

You handed them the beer after opening it up for them, letting your fingers brush past theirs. You wondered how they would feel on the rest of your body, caressing it or making it a point to feel pain that was more so pleasure for you. You walked back over to the kitchen to get your beer, taking a small sip, letting the alcohol enter your body after a day of no success in catching Escobar. It was disappointing, to say the least. You guys were putting your lives on the line, with no avail. Escobar was always two, three, maybe even four steps ahead of you guys and there was no one to turn to except each other.

The police? Not a chance with the way they were all on a payroll for Escobar and every other drug lord that could pay them off. The Columbian Government? They were just as bad as the police, maybe even worse as they were the ones setting the example for the police to follow. Your government? They were no help to you guys as their actions were the complete opposite of what they said they were doing on television. All they wanted was to ensure that they could get some money out of this and to have the chance to play captain on a boat that was sinking. The president could lie all he wanted to on television, to say that they were making progress in something that was only going to go down in flames in the end. But the fact of the matter was you were the ones that were out there that could see the lies. The government only wanted the glory of saying that they helped with the war on drugs, if you could even it call it that.

Were you guys perfect? No, not in the slightest bit. You got your hands dirty in the line of war, even when you wanted to stay dry for just one day. Blood covered your hands no matter how hard you scrubbed it off. It was still there, in memory. No number of promotions, awards, or congratulations from those that knew or didn’t know the situation at hand could make you guys feel relieved in what it was that you guys did every single day. It changed you guys, whether you believed it or not. You were not the same as you guys were before the wild goose chase of finding and capturing Escobar was set into motion. You saw things you wished to forget, did things that haunted your dreams, and wondered if everything that you guys were doing was for a noble cause.

In theory it was, saving the people from drugs that destroyed families, homes, and could bring down anyone that was against it. But in reality? It was just politics, something that you hated for as long as you could remember. Politics that only worked in your favor when it was something that could suit the ones in power. It was bullshit, but so was everything about this war on drugs and capturing Escobar. You needed a break from the bullshit that surrounded your life as a person trying to capture someone so far out, and so did they.

So, one drink was what brought things to a haze of some sorts, to where you said things that you would normally keep to yourself. You made a few flirtatious comments, letting the alcohol do the talking that you wouldn’t dare say with a sober mind. You guys all went over to your couch, and you were in between the two of them, Peña to your left and Carrillo to your right. The tv was on, playing a black-and-white Columbian movie that none of you guys were paying attention to.

Your beers were slowly dwindling away with each sip and the conversation started to take a turn from light to heavy. You felt yourself relax a tad bit, seeing them relax too and look more alive. You got another drink for the three of you, and the more the alcohol entered your bodies, the closer you got to making rash decisions. You would touch them in places that you only thought of when you would touch yourself, needing a release of some sort without taking it too far. Maybe the lack of eating made it easier to have the alcohol take over quickly, or maybe you were just done waiting for something that needed to happen. They did the same but were more subtle as they wanted to tread carefully, not wanting to blur the lines of friendship over a misunderstanding.

By the fifth round, it was decided that they would crash at your place for the night, seeing as though they couldn’t even call a cab for themselves without slurring their words. You felt yourself become wet at the thought of them staying over, knowing that they would only be in the next room over instead of being a drive away. You weren’t sure if your drunk self could keep your fantasies hidden away with that in mind, and they weren’t sure if they could last knowing that you were in the other room, in skimpy clothing that barely kept you cool with how hot it was down in Colombia.

Suddenly there was less space between the three of you, your arms brushing against one another and they leaned in closer to you, to where you could smell the hints of cologne that sent you on a frenzy. Maybe sometime in between they both made the accusation that you moaned when you got a whiff of their scent, but you only laughed, knowing that they had no clue as to how you really moaned when you were being pleasured. You playfully hit them, letting your touch linger a bit longer than it should’ve. You felt the goosebumps rise on their skin with your touch. The hair on their necks would stand tall as you leaned on either one of their shoulders, and you could feel goosebumps on your skin rise as they would casually place a hand on your thighs, to just grab something that was across from them. Their hands were strong and were interesting to look at, seeing that they held stories that you didn’t know about.

Their eyes would be a tell-tale sign that they had seen the horrors of trying to dismantle a drug cartel. But their hands were the proof of them trying to make a difference. They would move your hair out of your face, taking their time in studying your features. You were all treading on uncharted territory that was dangerous, but danger was what was needed in life. Danger was the fire that would keep you alive. To burn brighter and higher as you took chance after chance to live a life that was only shown in the movies.

Deciding to stop drinking after the fifth round, you got up, placing both of your hands on one of their thighs to balance yourself. You could feel them tense up from your hands gripping their thighs, but they didn’t say anything about it. You took their beers as they were done, and you brought them over to the kitchen to throw them out. You were getting ready to get some water when you heard them whispering. You couldn’t make out what they were saying but you figured it was nothing serious. Suddenly, they got up and went into the kitchen. You turned around and saw them eyeing you, making you feel hot. Their stare made you question whether or not you could last until you went to bed. You went to go to another part of the kitchen, but they got closer to you. You took a sip of your water, needing something to cool you off as you felt hotter with them being so close to you.

As you went to turn, Horacio came up behind you, placing his hands on your hips and dipping his head to bring it closer to your neck, his breath fanning it. Javier was in the front, looking down as he took his fingers and brought them to your chin, lifting it up ever so softly. You stared into those deep but gentle eyes where his irises had bloomed from the arousal that was building from the time he walked into your apartment.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks and you bit your lip, seeing that had a reaction on Peña as he let out a slight groan at the sight of your teasing. Horacio let his hands drift down to get closer to your clothed core, something that you longed for. While Horacio went south, Javier ventured away from the northern area and went to grab your breasts, lightly squeezing them. It felt so fucking good to be touched after such a long time of being denied of that desire.

“Bonita, don’t fight it. Let go.” Javier could sense that you were trying to hold back, not wanting to give in just yet. Horacio hummed in agreement as he continued to kiss your neck, wanting to make it easier on their end to get you to stop holding back. You let out a soft moan, barely audible once Javi got to your shirt, opening the buttons and letting his fingers touch your breasts. Horacio let his hands unbutton your pants, not needing to see what he was doing. Perhaps he had a lot of experience like his partner did.

“Just say yes. That’s all you gotta do.” Horacio mimicked your words from earlier as he let his hand go into your underwear, feeling how your arousal has been building for the both of them. Javier unbuttoned your shirt entirely, letting your lacy blue bra be exposed. You knew that you couldn’t fight it anymore. You managed to catch your breath and open your eyes, still seeing Javi’s eyes transfixed on to you, waiting for your answer.

“Yes,” You breathed out, feeling Horacio’s fingers go down where they needed to be at. Javi wasted no time in capturing your lips, and you moaned in his mouth as his lips were the perfect blend of beer and cigarettes and Horacio had gotten down to putting his fingers in between your lips, gathering your slick to then rub your clit.

“How long have you been like this for? Were you just going to go in your room and get yourself off without a little help?” Horacio whispered in the shell of your ear, rubbing nice and slow, making your hips roll with him. You continued to kiss Javi but Horacio’s words made your face burn with heat, moaning slightly in the other’s mouth as Javi touched you all over.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom,” Javi said in between kisses. You all separated but it wasn’t until Horacio carried you bridal style to the room where it finally hit you that this was happening. This was not a fantasy no longer. No, the two men that you were torn between choosing wanted you just as much as you wanted them. If that was not enough to send you over the moon, the way you were placed on the bed and both of them staring down at you, waiting to ravish you was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Javi turned to Carrillo, and the grins they both shared before moving over to you made your stomach drop. Before you knew it, your clothes were being discarded, shirt thrown to the side, your bra unclasped, pants shimmying down with your panties and you were helping them without a second thought, now with you completely naked and them still fully clothed.

“Let’s see how pent up you are,” Carrillo murmured, him trailing up to you to kiss you and Javi traveling down to your exposed sex, his fingers drumming in between your thighs to get them open.

“Open up for me, cielo.” Javi commanded as you were slowly getting lost in Carrillo’s kiss, his much rougher and hasty than Javi’s. You opened up and soon you felt that fluffy hair nuzzling between your thighs before he used his plump lips to suck on your clit. You moaned into Carrillo’s mouth as his hand traveled to your breasts to pinch and tease your raised nipples, the added sensation making you lose focus. You were biting Carrillo’s lip here and there as your hand was moving down to his pants, rubbing his prominent bulge that you were pleasantly surprised about. Before you could do much more, he moved his hands away to undo his belt, pulling down his pants in one swift move after.

Immediately you were clawing at Horacio’s shirt, trying to get the buttons undone so you could feel him, pull him closer to you so that when your peak reached you could fall apart with him all over you. He laughed in between feverish kisses over your neediness, pulling off his shirt too as he pulled away from you, your mouth falling agape as you realized that everything you thought about him was right and then some.

“How does she taste?” Horacio asked as he was stroking himself in his briefs.

“Like heaven,” Javi pulled his head up to speak and dove right back down without a second thought, making you whine more. Horacio captured your lips once more as he was moving his hand between both of your breasts, nipples become overly sensitive from it all. You didn’t know what to focus on more, but with the way Javi sucked on your clit and licked with the perfect balance, not letting up as if it was his last meal unlocked something in you. There was no guy that was more enthusiastic about eating you out the away Javi was. He put his all into it, occasionally licking from bottom to top, top to bottom to get every drop in your slit, giving you a minute to catch your breath before he went back to your bundle of nerves which made you arch your back. But when the deft fingers that you always found yourself getting lost into looking at slipped into your sex, the band of control snapped.

You moved your hand back down to tease Horacio, slipping your hand under the waistband of his briefs to touch him, semi hard already which put a smile on your face. But that smile soon went away as you felt Javi curling his fingers as he pushed them in and out, lightly grazing your spot as he sucked on your clit a little faster, matching the same pace as when he pushed in. You were a mess, sweat beading down your body, hands trying to find someone to grip to hold yourself together, and you were willing to lose yourself because of their ministrations for a lifetime. And so you did, the way Carrillo’s tongue slipped into your mouth, the twist of your nipple, the curl of Javi’s fingers, the way your bundle of nerves were sent over the edge, you were a goner. Blinding pleasure took up your body, mind, and soul as you stilled in stroking Carrillo’s cock and your legs tightened around Javi’s head. But neither of them stopped working you through it, only continuing and slowing little by little until you were done. With that, they moved away from and marveled at how you looked, the smirks on their face making you want more.

“You sure you’re ready for more?” Javi cooed, and you frantically nodded your head as you got up. Horacio was only in his briefs but Javi was still clothed, making you pout. He realized what you wanted so he undressed so he did as you moved to the edge of your bed. Horacio decided it would be more fun if he kissed your neck while you watched, and the show was more than you expected. You knew that Javi’s golden skin was meant to be worshipped, but to see him half naked as his white shirt was pulled off, undoing his belt as he took off his pants, briefs coming down with them as his cock hard, precum leaking when you didn’t even get the chance to touch him as much as you wanted to.

“Someone likes what they see,” Carrillo whispered in your ear, making chills run through you. He came back around and you realized he took off his briefs as well, leaving them naked right in front of you. Without much thought, you got on your knees, getting close to them. If this was how they were now, you wondered how they kept it together being around you so much. You took both of them in your hands, pumping slowly and looking up at them, seeing Javi gripping the bed and Carrillo trying to hold it together by biting his lip, blood threating to seep out if he bit down any harder.

“Who should I start with?” You batted your eyelashes at them, looking down at their cocks and seeing the precum leaking out over your finger.

“Do what feels right,” Javi encouraged, so you took his, still pumping Carrillo with a little more speed and kitten licking the tip to catch the precum, the salty taste making you smirk. You began to suck the tip, looking up at him with the innocent eyes you always teased him with, you both knowing that there was just a glint hidden in between your stare that meant something else, something beyond professionalism. Seeing that he was straining himself to not thread his other hand in your hair, you went ahead and began to take him all, no more teasing after dreaming of this for so long.

“That’s it, take it all,” Javi praised, grip on the bed getting tighter, his knuckles turning snow white. You flattened your tongue and began to take more of him with ease, and the guttural groans escaping his mouth you were in pure ecstasy. You kept bobbing your head, matching the pace of stroking Carrillo’s cock, your fingers swiping over his tip or you gagging on Javi’s cock. You didn’t care about how used you were for the moment, just that your biggest fantasy was coming true.

“Go please him now, pretty girl.” Javi pulled you off of his cock, and you shifted over to Carrillo, wetness dripping to your thighs with the way he looked at you. Instantly, he wrapped his hand around your hair and spat on his cock, getting it nice and ready before you were beginning to take him in your mouth, the stark contrast between the two driving you insane as you loved the gentle nature of Javi but Horacio’s roughness was just enough to make you want more.

“That’s it, let me fuck that pretty face,” He was thrusting into your mouth and you were taking it, Javi deciding to move your hand away to stroke himself and watch you in the act. You could feel yourself gagging here and there, his sheer size making your work overtime to take him, but when he would hold your head in place to fuck your mouth, you couldn’t help but moan. When you slapped his thigh to let you up, he did, bending down to kiss you afterwards.

“I knew with how much you talk I could put that mouth to good use,” He whispered in your ear as they both help you back up to your feet. Your jaw was a little sore, but it made you excited as you wondered what the stretch would be for you where you needed them most. Hell, if you knew this was going to happen you would’ve trained your other hole to take them both at the same time, feeling them both thrust in and out, the fullness that you craved from them finally being achieved. You pictured laying on Javi’s soft body, back flushed against his chest, his cock halfway in your hole, and Carrillo holding your legs up as he pushed in and out, the stretch making you cry from so much overstimulation as you would rub your clit to match his thrusts. You needed that to happen if this would happen again between you three, but you settled for laying back down on the bed and Carrillo and Javi joining you.

“Who do you want to go first?” Javi asked, hand rubbing in between your legs.

“Depends on what position you both want me in.”

“I want to see you. All of you,” Javi moved his hand down further, index finger swiping over your clit to make you buck your hips. “And considering how much this one looks at your ass, I think he’ll want you from the back. Am I wrong?” You both looked at him, and the amused smile confirmed it all.

“He’s right. Now choose cariño.”

“I want Javi to go first.”

“Say no more, bonita.” He kissed your cheek and moved down, putting his hand sin between your legs to open you up. Carrillo got up and started to stroke himself right above your mouth.

“I’m happy I get to use your pretty mouth once more,” You were smiling as he looked down at you, the way the moon was highlight the sharpness of his body, trailing its way up from his stomach to his chest, to the strong neck that you could see yourself leaving marks on. Your eyes shot back down to his cock however, still glistening and the tip leaking more with precum. You sat up and he tapped his cock against your lips, making you take him in your mouth to stop the teasing. You moved your head as best as you could but when he took control and fucked your mouth again, his cock hitting your throat repeatedly, you were moaning as you enjoyed how he used you, and how you could feel Javi gathering up slick from between your lips to smear on his cock.

“Such a good slut for him,” He murmured as he climbed on top of you and was rubbing the tip of his cock in between your folds, tip hitting your clit especially and rubbing around to make you jump. He pushed in without warning, the stretch making you moan loudly and Carrillo stilling inside your mouth. Your walls fluttered around him as he pushed in more, nice and slow to feel you, take his time with you. You could see from your peripheral the way he was biting his lip, holding it together as he softly sweared under his breath.

“So fucking wet, all for us,” He bent down to whisper it in your ear, making you clench more around his cock. He rutted inside of you, making sure every ridge and curve would be felt. It was a slower pace, but you figured he was slow as you were a little preoccupied with how Carrillo was still using you until he pulled you off, letting you rest your head back down on the bed.

“I want to watch. Give me a show,” Carrillo kissed your forehead and moved off to the side, leaving you to focus completely on Javi. He thrusted with more consistency, skin slapping as you could feel the curve brushing against your walls. You clawed at his back, trying to hold it together as you didn’t think in a million years that he would feel this good in just a few thrusts.

“Javi, fuck, you feel so good,” You were whining more, legs wrapping around him.

“That’s it baby, let it all out.” He cooed in your ear as he went a little faster, the speed finally giving you what you needed. It was as though you two were rocking a little, both wanting the other to pull out but the fullness you had and how your velvety walls clung around his size made it impossible to want to pull out fully. All you knew was that in this moment, you would go into any position for them just so that you could feel both of them fill you up in different angles. Tips pressing up near your spot, the stretch, the way your walls would cling to them out of desperation, everything you could want was happening as you moaned while sucking Carrillo’s cock and Javi was realizing how no matter how much he would tighten his hand it never matched to how you felt.

Javi’s hand snuck down in between you and the flick of his finger on your clit made you jolt, a sharp moan coming out of you and going right to Carrillo as he thrusted into your mouth a little more. Toying with you, he would match his thrusts and slap your clit a little making you whimper before rubbing it to soothe you. Before you could pull him out of your mouth to say anything, you came with a force so heavy it blinded you, the moan coming from deep inside you that vibrated through Carrillo as you moaned. Javi rode you through it while Carrillo continued to use you.

“You loved being used like this don’t you? A little slut for the two of us.” You hummed in agreement which made Carrillo buck his hips into your mouth more.

“Do that again and I might have to fuck your pretty face again,” Carrillo half warned, half made a promise on it. You contemplated on it, but the idea of testing your luck with the man that scared and also turned you on got the best of you. So you did, and the way he took hold of your hair and thrusted relentlessly made you tighten around Javi’s cock.

“Keep tightening around me, hermosa,” The strain in his voice, knowing that he was fucking into you harder, faster, all too consuming while you were testing the limits with your throat, jaw-slacked and looking up at him with the doe eyes that both of them loved once you regained control of yourself. How you managed to breathe through your nose and take it even when he barely pulled out of your mouth to let you breathe was beyond your understanding, but to have both of them was worth it.

“Gonna make him cum, little one?” You hummed in response as Javi’s death grip on your hips loosened and you unwrapped your legs, him pulling out and painting a nice cum shot on your stomach, thick ropes of cum that made you tighten around nothing. He was out of breath, perspiration lining his skin, biting his lip even. He squeezed the tip more to get some more out, and Carrillo pulled out of your mouth. You brought your hand down to get some on your fingers, swiping it up and tasting it. You could see Javi shutter and Carrillo transfixed by the way you lapped it up with each venture down to your stomach and back to your mouth.

“Cleaning up your mess like I knew you would,” Javi moved down to kiss the top of your head as you tasted the last bit of it, enjoying the saltiness of it all. “But how are you feeling?”

“I feel fine. Little tired but I can go on.” You were still catching your breath but the haze that was clouding your mind made you want to go on for more.

“You sure? I don’t want to push you.” Carrillo, surprisingly soft, pushed your hair back.

“If I can’t go anymore, I’ll stop.” You smiled at him and he held back a groan. How could you look so pretty below him?

“You think you can take me?” He countered, and the thought of being stretched out further excited you more than it should’ve. Oh, how did you last this long without having them?

“Doesn’t hurt to try now does it?” The glint in your eyes stoked the fire inside of him that he thought was already burning red hot the moment he entered your apartment.

“That’s a good girl. Turn around for me.” You turned around and got on all fours, facing your mirror and the window which let the moonlight shine on all three of you. He got behind you, hands settled right near your love handles and pulled you towards him, just when you could feel the curve of his dick pressed against your slit, rubbing right in between.

“Look at you coating my fucking dick, baby,” Slapping your ass, you jolted as he pressed the tip near your hole. “And now I get to feel you.” And he pushed in a little roughly, the stretch almost unbearable as you didn’t think you could take either one of them. But you did, the slow yet strong pumps to test you out was eliciting the wanton moans that could be heard out the window. Javi reached down to you and kissed your temple, tilting your head so you could look at him.

“Such a good girl. Don’t stop, bonita.” He pushed the stray hairs out of your face as you took the slow increase in speed from Carrillo, the tip brushing your walls with each thrust. Javi grabbed one of your breasts and teased your nipple, pinching lightly. You bit your lip as the pain and pleasure mixed together, building with each second that passed. You couldn’t see much but both Javi and Carrillo were looking in the mirror, watching you with intensity. Although Javi was through, he felt a jolt go through him as he helped you get off. Carrillo took glances at your ass and your reflection in the mirror, getting harder at the site of you arched down, taking it him whole.

“Ay, ella se siente increíble,” Carrillo threw his head back a little as you started to meet him halfway, your breath hard to catch as you were beginning to get overstimulated. Javi met you down to your face and kissed your temple, mumbling sweet nothings in Spanish that if you could translate you would probably flutter around Carrillo.

“Baby, take a look at yourself in the mirror.” He whispered as his hand moved from your breasts up to your head and grabbed a fistful of your hair. His grip on your hair as he lifted your head up to look in the mirror made you whine, but your walls only tightened when you saw all three of you in the mirror. Javi’s face so close to yours, lips grazing your temple, you bent over in obscene ways, Carrillo taking you where you could see the way his arms were flexed based on the grip he had on your hips. You watched as he fucked you harder, seeing that he was looking down at how he was going in and out of you. You reveled in how soft Javi’s lips were against your skin, how he worshipped you and Carrillo took you in ways you never would speak about in broad daylight. Javi pulled away to move up and face Carrillo.

“Doesn’t she look so pretty like this?”

“She does. Should’ve done this sooner,” Carrillo was throwing his head back as you were beginning to meet his thrusts to get ever inch. Your third orgasm of the night was gaining traction and you were beginning to move a hand down to rub your sensitive clit but Javi stopped you, swatting your hand away and moving his other hand there.

“You’ll cum on our command. Got it?” Javi was looking at you through the mirror. You nodded but then you felt Carrillo and Javi stop. “Use your words.” They were both staring at you and you tried to gasp for some air to speak properly.

“Yes. I’ll cum on your command, I promise.” You darted your eyes between the two and they resumed, much to your pleasure. Deft fingers toying with your sensitive clit, curved and thick cock exploring your walls, and you were in your world of desire that seemed to be taking new heights the more you continued this. But now, with your climax getting closer and closer to blooming, you were beginning to feel your body shake.

“Not yet. Hold it.” Carrillo stayed steady with his thrusts and the tight circles that Javi was rubbing was making you grip the sheets.

“Please! Please, please let me cum!” You were begging, so close to the thread snapping and you cumming undone. You saw that the two of them looked at each other and nodded.

“Cum.” That was all that you needed to hear before you cried out, collapsing your upper half but the lower half being held up by Carrillo as he fucked you through your orgasm and Javi slowed his circles. You soon heard the grunts and felt the slow and sloppy thrusts coming as Carrillo pulled out and Javi moved away. You turned around to face him, on your knees in the bed looking up at him with your mouth open. He came with a grunt, the cum landing right on your tongue and a little on your lip. You swallowed it all and cleaned up, giving him a smile and it made more shot out on his hand. You took his hand and licked it up too, winking at him.

“So proud of you, princesa.” He grabbed your jaw gently and kissed your forehead. You were a mess, albeit a happy mess as you were trying to catch your breath with all the pleasure washing over you. Soon it slowed, Javi’s hand moving away to rub your back and Carrillo helping you lay down. Javi gave you one of the pillows as you lifted your head up to lay on it as Carrillo got up to go to the bathroom. Javi laid next to you and caressed your face, making you blush.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I am. I don’t know how I’m going to get to work tomorrow though,” You joke, knowing that your legs were jelly at this point.

“We’ll drive you, but you better be walking since we can’t carry you around all day.” He kissed your forehead right when Carrillo came back with the towels from your bathroom. Javi took his towel and Carrillo tossed his to the side, tending to you. He got on the bed and was on top of you, wiping you off as you hummed in relief. Javi finished wiping himself off just as Carrillo got done with you. Still unable to move you were amused when Carrillo tossed your legs a little to get the sheet from underneath them. He then draped it over your lower body and then wiped himself off. Javi got under the sheet with you as Carrillo tossed the three towels in your hamper haphazardly.

“Someone’s gotta do their laundry now,” Carrillo teased.

“I’ll get to it eventually. Gotta find the feeling in my legs again to move.” Both laughed at your new state, used to you running around and now you were bed ridden for the night.

“By the morning you’ll be fine. But sleep.” Carrillo was getting ready to get dressed again as well as Javi, but you got up.

“Can you both stay with me?” You shifted your eyes between them, the little pleading as you moved to the middle of your bed igniting something in them.

They obliged after some thought, you in the middle with Carrillo on your back and Javi near your front. Carrillo’s hand rested on your ass and Javi’s was right near your shoulder. A little awkward, but both of them were softly snoring within minutes with all the energy you took out of them. Maybe you would end up not talking about it until the time came round again or even in passing, but for now you let the calm call of sleep lull you away.

[well-look-at-this]

Contending with You. II

a/n. bro... writing this was like trying to pry something out of a dog's mouth man... NO BETA RAHHHH!! I finished this and immediately died on the couch w/o posting it major L. anyway here's the 3 short kings and a dog edition (i did NOT notice i put all the shawtys together until i was alr deep 😭 Lilia's was almost so long just because he is so old lmao CHAPTER 7 SPOILERS GUYS FOR DIASOMNIA

Part I: Idia, Azul, Ruggie, Cater

Includes: Riddle, Epel, Jack, Lilia

Thinking about Epel and pride that bleeds. About growing up happy and loved and never feeling wrong. Thinking about when he started school in another town and it started. You look like a girl. Shouting and bruised knuckles. Screaming at a brick wall. Thinking about how it only would get worse as he got older, how he couldn’t grow out of it. Thinking about living in a body that stops feeling like you but just won’t change. About living in people’s assumptions and never being heard. Thinking about being forced to play the role anyways, because you weren’t strong enough. Because he’s never been strong enough to be allowed to be himself. Always told what you are but it’s never right. Thinking about Epel Felmier, the wolf born in the skin of a lamb. 

Thinking about Riddle and hunger. About being the smallest thing in a big perfect house. Thinking about growing up in a conditional and surgical world. Everything done to the T and if not then you’ve failed completely. Plain planned meals in a soft small body. Hungry, but you can’t exceed your planned caloric intake. Watching other children laugh across the street. Hungry, but you have to study, you can’t be irresponsible… you’re five. But it’s not like Riddle knows what he’s feeling, it wasn’t part of the curriculum. Secret friends and a whole tart, feeling full for the first time–being punished for it. You can’t see your friends anymore. Starving. Going to school and becoming part of a place with eight hundred and ten rules. Feels like home. Thinking of tyranny, of a love like your mother; of doing what’s best for them. They start to shake around you, you’ve finished your favorite tart and received another set of As so why are you hungry. Thinking about Riddle trying to feed monsters that will never be satisfied. Thinking about Riddle Rosehearts and a hunger that’s eating him alive.

Thinking about Jack and faith. Admiration and goals; the expectation and excitement of meeting your idol. But no one ever told Jack that you shouldn’t meet your heroes. Meeting Leona, who doesn’t try and certainly doesn’t play fair. Thinking about someone raised in a pack with values and a place for everyone thrown out in the savannah. They should be a team, so why is everyone eating each other alive? Thinking about being thrust into a place where you have to prove your worth to not be tossed aside. But everything you do and know is wrong here, nothing you do could ever make you fit in. Thinking about being threatened in your own dorm. Being so on edge you betray “your” own pack for another. Thinking about living with the aftermath, the whole savannah on his back. They could’ve won if not for you, they want to make sure you won’t be a problem next time. Thinking about Jack Howl who knows he can only end up a martyr. 

Thinking about Lilia and all his time. A feral kid with no birthday, who finds unexpected family only to lose them too soon. Missing and dead, with an egg in his arms that he’s not good enough to see but won’t hatch for years. Thinking about decades scouring the world in the hope he can find his missing friend. Thinking about every time he mused about “what Malleanor and Levan would think of this”. How many times would he catch himself, reminding himself one is dead, the other is missing, left only with their slowly dying son he can’t seem to save. Thinking about the general who hates humans and everything they’ve stolen but can’t help but appreciate them in his years among them. Thinking about the Lilia who cries holding Malleus and won’t let go despite what the council says. Who realizes Malleanor was right and he’s just so full of love. Thinking of Lilia and a lifetime of being so lesser you believe it. Despite raising a boy you can’t say he’s your son, because he could never replace the people he sees in their face, he doesn’t deserve it and he’s vile for even entertaining the thought. Thinking about finding the son of the man who destroyed your family and country, and raising him as your own. About never treating him as anything less than yours but still not allowing yourself to think of yourself as his father. That the boy can never really be yours, even when he is, Seven’s he is. Thinking about thinking yourself is so inconsequential that there’s no gravity to you leaving with no warning. Thinking about Lilia Vanrouge, the fae who couldn’t realize he was a father.

[luxexhomines]

christmas shopping

Alright, so I know Christmas passed and all, but I thought I'd share this old work anyway to serve as both posting writing and also as a mini-announcement here!

I received two requests already, so thank you for your support, even though it's been a long time! I'm working on the first one already, although it's looking really rough, ahaha. I won't close requests yet since there's only two.

This work is actually from November 2020, if you can believe it, but I never posted it because a.) it felt unfinished and b.) I had actually intended to write it as a birthday present for Solar @\solarwhisper. But I never finished it and felt sorry about it, so it was never sent or posted... Anyway, this is a Kokichi x Reader (PG) short one-shot!

“Wake up! Wake up!” 

You feel an overbearing pressure on your midriff as you try to get your bearings, still half-asleep and wanting to go back to sleep, wrapped in fluffy blankets. Your eyes slowly peel open a crack, and a familiar silhouette comes into view. 

“...Kokichi?” You mumble and shut your eyes again. “What are you doing?” 

You can almost see his grin as he laughs and shakes you ruthlessly. You’re not sure when you last became close enough with Kokichi to be shaken as he sits on you or when Kokichi even managed to get into your room, but you’re not too concerned. It’s Kokichi, after all. Now, if only you could get back to sleep… 

“No, no going back to sleep!” Small, not to mention cold, hands pat your cheeks repeatedly. “It’s time to wake up! Come on, lazybones. It’s already 10 am. We have places to go, things to do, people to see!” 

You grumble discontentedly and unsuccessfully attempt to roll over on your bed. Kokichi is too heavy for you to do so, even if he’s a tiny boy. All you end up achieving is turning your face to the side. 

“Leave me alone. I didn’t make any plans with you. I need my sleep. I was up late doing work…” 

Then, you hear him sniff quietly. Uh-oh. Disaster number one was about to head your way. In a flash, you shoot upright and slap a hand over his open mouth just as he’s preparing to let loose a piercing wail that you were sure your neighbors would hear. You glare at him as his purple eyes stare back, seemingly smug despite how firmly your hand was clapped over his mouth. That mouth could do horrible, horrible things, and it wasn’t restricted to only telling lies and emitting sonic cries. You weren’t keen on finding out what else it could do. 

“Enough! I’m awake. What do you want, Kokichi?” 

You let your hand fall from his mouth and instead cover your own as you yawn sleepily. Kokichi huffs as he sits with his legs resting over yours. The bedding does nothing to lessen the impact of him weighing on you, and you reach over, gracelessly pushing him off of you. 

“Using brute force this early in the morning?” he pouts, but he looks positively delighted as his purple eyes sparkle brightly. “Anyway, now that you’re awake, don’t tell me you forgot all about the promise we made to go Christmas shopping together for gifts!” 

You frown, yawning yet again. 

“I didn’t make any promise to go Christmas shopping with you.” 

Kokichi’s eyes grow big and wet, and he purses his lips indignantly. 

“You forgot! We promised, we really did. You said you’d help me look for Christmas gifts this season because I can never find good gifts. I’m usually too busy carrying out my Ultimate Supreme Leader duties, after all,” he asserts. 

You shake your head adamantly. 

“I didn’t promise you anything.” 

He knocks himself on the head with a fist, making a silly expression with a wink and sticking out his tongue. 

“Whoopsie! I mean, maybe that was a little white lie but…” He suddenly has his arm hooked around yours. “Now we have a promise! Go Christmas shopping with me today, alright?” He points at your calendar, which is chaotically hanging askew on a tiny hook on the right wall of your room. “You don’t have anything today! You’re free all day,” he sings triumphantly. 

You have the urge to promptly kick him out, but instead you pinch the bridge of your nose to mitigate your incoming headache. 

“It’s like that because I planned today to rest,” you emphasize the last word, hoping to get through to him. “I need this day to be free, or I won't survive the rest of the week.” 

But he doesn’t give in. 

“Going Christmas shopping with me is like being free,” he claims proudly without a shred of guilt, a barefaced lie. “You’ll have so much fun you’ll forget all about all your worries and stress. Come on,” he begs with shining eyes.

How did his eyes sparkle like that? Did god sprinkle glitter in Kokichi’s eyes when he made Kokichi? You brush away your thoughts and try to get back to the topic at hand.

“Yeah… No.” You send him a disapproving look. “I know you’ll drag me to every store and tire me out before lunch, and then make me carry all your bags for you as you run around the place without a care in the world.” 

“Aww, how did you know?” he sulks. “Still, it has to be you. Gonta’s good for carrying things, but not much else. And Shuichi has zero stamina, so he’ll be tired after we go to maybe two stores. Plus, there’s no way I could convince anyone else to come with me. Maybe Kaede, but I’ll probably get a life lesson and lecture if I have her come with me.”

You stare at him, trying to figure out what his motive was, anyway. 

“Are you seriously just asking me to go Christmas shopping with you? Nothing else? What do you want from me, anyway? I’m not as strong as Gonta, and I doubt I can give as much advice on gifts as Shuichi or Kaede.” 

He just grins and puts a finger to his lips playfully. 

“Hm, I wonder? What do I want from you?” He jumps off your bed sprightly and skips to the door. “Anyway, be out of your room in ten. We’re going to the mall!” 

Before you can object another time, he goes out and shuts the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts and an unfortunate time restriction that gives you little time to tidy yourself up. Sighing, you clamber out of your bed, resigned, and start sifting through your clean clothes. It was going to be a long day with Kokichi at your side.

Even so, you can’t deny he’d indeed sparked your curiosity, and when it came to satiating it, Kokichi never disappointed. Excitement simmered in your chest just below the surface of your weariness. There was something to look forward to, even if you weren’t sure what it was yet. And boy, was it something.

[facingthenorthwind]

So while reading Halo Effect, I naturally became obsessed with the one (1) Jewish character who turns up twice, one as a brief mention and one to write a single letter. Because I am extremely normal, I am writing a fic about him. Technically I've only written the first half (the second half is Peter and Thomas meeting up with him), but it's self-contained. It's been written for literal years, so I figure I should at least post it on tumblr. I hope you enjoy it, @alex51324!! (Also I haven't Yiddishised the Hebrew yet because I only know the standard pronunciation but I'm going to get someone to do it before I post it on AO3.) Hopefully this is comprehensible to non-Jews?? Please let me know if not.

Is it breaking a mitzvah if I say mourner's kaddish for someone who might not be mourned otherwise without a minyan? At most, there's a Green who has a J on his identity disc on one of the wards, but he's currently on so much morphine I don't think he'd remember the words, Issac wrote to his father once he finally got back to his unit. Honestly, he didn't much care what his father wrote back — if God didn't like him saying kaddish for Fitz, God could come down here and tell him what alternative he had. He asked his father to send a candle so he could light it for Fitz, but crossed it out and asked him for ten candles. Fitz may have been the first, but he sure as hell wouldn't be the last.

The news of Fitz’s death had preceded Issac’s return, but nobody had touched Fitz’s belongings yet. Cruelly, the most essential things, the things that meant most to him, had gone down with him, but Rouse eventually laid out everything that was in Fitz’s rucksack so they could decide what they should send back to his family — well, his brother. Fitz had said he didn’t have any other family left. 

They decided they’d split his cigarettes between them — Scogs tried to crack a joke about how Fitz had always been so free with his cigarettes it was almost like he wasn’t gone, but he trailed off, and no one laughed. His large collection of letters went in his rucksack, of course (he seemed to get them constantly, all from different people; sometimes he had even acted as some kind of go-between, passing on information from one letter-writer to another, as if they couldn’t just write to each other themselves). The scarf he’d worn every day from Christmas until mid-April, when even he couldn’t deny it was too hot, went in as well — Issac had always thought privately that it was fairly ugly, but then again, if he tried to knit a scarf it would probably turn out much the same. 

Dawson got Fitz’s copy of Prester John out of his own pack and removed his bookmark before handing it over to Rouse. “He’s made some little notes in it,” he said. “Nothing all that interesting yet as I can see, but it doesn’t feel right to keep it.”

Rouse packed it and Scogs didn’t mention that he had been next in line to read it. One of them could write home to get another copy, probably. Issac was sure he could — he had already received several yellowbacks which he’d left in the break room once everyone had read them so they could find a new home. Fitz’s sewing kit, playing cards and the various other things he’d been sent went on top and by the time they were done there was an all-too-noticeable hole where Fitz had once slept. 

It was only then that Issac noticed Rouse had gained corporal’s stripes. It made sense — Fitz needed replacing and Rouse was an obvious choice, being the smartest of the lot of them. He congratulated him, but Rouse wasn’t offended that he didn’t quite hit the right tone and his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Rouse’s didn’t, either.

When he arrived at the wards for his next shift, Captain Russell clapped him on the shoulder and gave him an extra ration of brandy. And then they just had to get on with it.

------

Fitz’s brother never replied to the letter he sent, so Issac kept saying kaddish for him past the thirty days that were traditional. He knew there were lots of reasons he might not have written — maybe it got lost, or he didn’t want to hear from Issac, or any number of perfectly innocent explanations, but as Issac watched men die day after day he couldn’t stop thinking about how if Fitz’s brother was dead, there was no one to remember Fitz as family. 

He said it for eleven months, as he would for a brother — four months longer than he’d known him. About six months in, Rouse wrote to him saying that he’d been stationed with Fitz’s brother at a CCS. He was a corporal, apparently, and Rouse said he reminded him of Fitz — that they said some of the same things, though in temperament they were pretty different. The war dragged on.

He kept a list of people in his units who died as he transferred from place to place, but it quickly became clear that he couldn't light a candle for each of them. The list just kept going, a litany of names followed by the date of their death in the Gregorian and Hebrew calendars. Jerry Scoggins, 30 September 1915/22 Tishrei 5676. Billy Dawson, 2 October 1915/25 Tishrei 5676. Fred Keighery, 4 February 1916/30 Shevat 5676... It felt like keeping track of their yahrzeits was more of a motivation to note the Hebrew date than keeping the holidays, since it wasn’t like he could, not really. Even as he tried to pray every day for whatever service he had free, the words of the festival services just made him homesick, and he didn’t have any of the things you should have: matzah or his mother’s blintzes or a lulav. 

He wrote to Moishe about studying the RAMC periodicals at Shavuot instead of Torah; it felt... oddly fitting. He knew, logically, that this war was man's fault and God didn't have anything to do with it, but that didn't provide any comfort when he was on death watch, sitting beside a man who gasped as he drowned on dry land. If the only control he had in this hell was giving two fingers to God, then he was going to take it. 

His father sent him a machzor so he could pray Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, but he got to Unetaneh Tokef and didn't even have the energy to be embarrassed when someone found him crying ten minutes later. Reciting the ways people would die in the coming year — who by water, who by fire, who by sword and who by wild beast — felt absurd when he could list just as many from who was on the wards. Who by phosgene, who by sepsis, who by bullets? And for the machzor to claim that repentance, prayer and righteousness averted the severity of the decree — that sure hadn’t fucking worked for the soldiers getting killed. It hadn’t worked for Fitz or Scoggins or Keighery or— 

By the end of 1917 he could no longer go over the top, having lost his hearing in his left ear from a shell exploding too close. The letters he received detailing how his nephew he’d never met could talk in whole sentences now and how Mr Rabinowitz had fallen and broken his leg felt like missives from a world he would never return to again; how could he, when all he knew was the war?

The Armistice meant the supply of wounded slowed, but he didn’t go home — he was stationed at a general hospital, so there were still plenty of cases coming through. Even when they offered to send him home because he wasn’t regular army and they were well aware that the other corps had mostly got the wartime recruits out… he knew it was cowardly, but he accepted the offer to stay on until the RAMC left France. He couldn’t picture how he was going to fit back into the Leylands, and perhaps if he put it off long enough he’d finally work it out.

He did not.

When he finally got off the train at Leeds, it felt a little like a fairytale — he kept being shocked that he could recognise the buildings as the train came in, and it sounded the same as it had before the war. The back of his throat began to ache, though he wasn’t sure why, but before he could focus on that his mother was calling his name and hugging him. Had she been there the whole time? She gave him a kiss on the cheek and led him to everyone else — there was Shoshie, who grinned at him and then prompted the child hiding behind her legs to greet his Feter Itzik. While the nephew he’d never met hid his face in her skirt, his father embraced him with a decidedly gruff, “Son.”

And at last there was Moishe, his smile twisted by the scarring on his face. He looked like he understood the slight bewilderment that must have shown on his face. “Glad they let you go eventually,” he said, slapping him on the back. He spoke into his right ear, probably noticing that Issac had turned so he could hear the people in front of him more clearly with it. 

“Yeah,” Issac said, not trusting himself to say anything else lest he start crying. 

“See, he’s not scary, Dovid,” Shoshie said, having coaxed his nephew out in front of her. “Say hello.”

“Hello Feter,” he said at last. “Why don’t you have a face like Feter Moishe?”

“Dovid!” Shoshie said.

Moishe shot Issac a grin. For the first time in too long, Issac laughed.

[noirvette]

WE NEVER EXISTED

[band smau]

[NINE]

masterlist.

prev. | next.

cws: | alcohol consumption

Loving you seemed so easy, it was something that just felt natural to Kyle. He wasn’t sure when his feelings for you became apparent to him, but he knows it was life altering. You became something to Kyle, not that you weren’t something to him before, but now it was almost as if you gave him the feeling as if he was to drink a bunch of energy drinks. You became a breath of fresh air, a new high score, an award, to Kyle. Something he wanted to fight for, something he wanted to run after, to strive for.

So when you announced you and Kenny were dating, an exact week before he was going to ask you out (he had even circled the date, which was when you and him first became lab partners in a chemistry class), he lost hope, in love. He closed himself off from girls’ affection, instead opting to not get close to a girl again. Sure, it was nice to receive love letters in his locker on Valentine’s Day or get slipped the phone number of the waitress who’s serving him and his friends at a restaurant, but they weren’t you; they weren’t your love letters, it wasn’t your phone number (he already had your phone number but that’s neither here nor there).

Now, it’s been three years, of pining after you, of loving you, and Kyle still couldn’t let you go. He thinks that Kenny’s been changing on you, he doesn’t know why, he isn't even confident in that idea, but he’s determined to figure it out. The only issue is Kyle is laying on his bed, drunk and he knew he wasn't in the state of mind to even logically be thinking. In his drunken state, maybe Kyle was just pretending to see signs that weren't there out of jealousy.

This is why he doesn’t even like drinking, Kyle starts randomly speculating and then starts to hate himself for his own thoughts. But he can't help but down the bottle of liquor, not after seeing you with Kenny today, how loving you two were, he can’t help but wonder that in his love stricken clouded mind, if he was hating on Kenny so much solely because of jealousy. Maybe Kenny really was going through some issues of his own right now, maybe nothing is going on behind the scenes. “Maybe,” Kyle thought, “I’m the issue, here. Y/n has a great relationship, it’s not with me, but..she’s happy. That’s all I wanted her to have.”

And you are! You are happy, at least Kyle can only assume that after viewing your latest instagram post. Happy people, scratch that, happy couples, post things like that, miserable love sick losers who drink their life away after watching the girl of his literal dreams date one of his closest friends. Kyle groans, setting the liquor bottle on down on his night stand, and sits up. Putting his head in his hands he tries desperately to sober up.

“Jesus christ, I sound like Stan right now.” Kyle murmurs, he grabs the water bottle on his night stand, nearly knocking the liquor bottle off in the process, “Thank god for sober Kyle thinking of this,” he mentally notes, and takes a long sip. Besides him his phone goes off and he picks it up once more. Some of his twitter post notifications are going off and he scowls at the thought of opening up Twitter. Yet he does so anyway.

Kyle doesn’t know what exactly possessed him to check twitter; of all the social media he owns, Twitter was the worst of them all for him. Twitter meant he could see all the fans constantly talking about him, talking about you…talking about you and Kenny. Kyle groans and debates downing more alcohol to allow him to forget all about you and Kenny, until he sees a notification for a DM from Twitter. Kyle was used to DMs, some were fake scam messages about seeing if the band would perform for some “event”, some were those stupid influencers gushing about whatever was happening, and most were fans. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, maybe it was the need to escape from his shit filled life, or maybe it was just plain pure curiosity, but Kyle decided to open the DM. He was not expecting the messages he saw.

Well that certainly sobered Kyle up. He crosses his legs and frowns.

“What the fuck?” Kyle whispers to no one, dumbfounded, “who the hell is this?” Whenever Kyle tries to click on the profile, twitter shakes him off, just sending him right back into the DM messages with the account. The absurdity of this situation grips Kyle’s attention and he wasn’t fully sobered up, he definitely is now.

He was weighing his options on whether or not it was worth it to respond, taking a shot in the dark he decided he might as well. At the very least he could try and find out who owns this account. In the back of his mind there was a nagging feeling that this account was Cartman and his stupid ass just pulling a prank on him, but the idea that it might not be either was enough to make him really respond.

Kyle was bewildered. He had no idea what to even think as he read the messages over and over again. The account was still unaccessible and he had no way of finding who this was, there wasn't even a name at the top of the DM either. He had no idea what was planned at noon, and he had no idea what to suspect.

He just hoped he wouldn't wake up to being exposed and seeing his name trending.

TAGLIST: @captivq @kimiesstuff @bwljules @the-cooler-kira @1one1person1 @kenny-the-ken @neenieweenie @n0tangeliccc @revzxn @mirophobic @gonefiishiing @musiclovebot @bootsieboo @bonez4brainz @4xbei77 @1996kj @sweetadonisbutbetter @scinclaitnoir @okarigold

[archiveikemen]

'Black Wedding' Story Event: Chapter 1

Roger's Route

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

Things were getting busy at the laboratory in the basement of Crown’s castle.

Jude: Be more careful, you quack.

Roger: Then avoid knives if you don't want to receive medical attention from a quack, you sinister looking man.

Jude: What!?

Ellis: I think the way Jude gets a knife wound every three days is very bad.

Roger: Right? You should say that to him more, Ellis.

Jude: Ellis, don't you forget who you’re working for.

Roger: Hm? Ellis, you’re injured too. You’re after Jude.

Ellis: Sorry. Thanks, Roger.

Liam: Roger, you in?

Roger: What is it this time?

Liam: Sorry for telling you this when you’re so busy. Ahaha, I got myself hurt.

Liam smiled while blood dripped from his arm.

Roger: Hey, Kate. Stop the bleeding on that stupid cat’s arm with the clean cloth over there. Raise the wound—

Kate: Above the heart, yes?

Roger: Correct.

(Hang on, why am I acting as his assistant?)

However, hanging around Roger was beneficial to me because he was conducting research on curses.

Moreover, I noticed recently that I had gotten used to assisting him with his work.

— But to be very honest, from the bottom of my heart, I wasn’t too fond of being treated like a dog.

???: Roger, are you here?

Roger: Darn it, who is it now?

Someone unexpected had come to the basement—

William: Hm?

...

Roger: You’re not injured, so the reason why you were looking for me must've been for a mission.

Roger: You almost never end up in the infirmary due to an injury, so it surprised me to see you there.

Kate: I was surprised too. I almost couldn't believe my eyes when I saw you.

William: Fufu, I’ll be sure to meet your expectations and lose an arm before heading to the infirmary next time.

(If there’s anyone who can cut William’s arm off, I’d love to bear witness to that.)

Roger: — Anyway, what’s the mission about?

William mentioned that he had something he wanted to discuss with Roger and I.

William: Recently, there has been a certain rumour spreading around amongst couples in London.

William: Rumour has it that if a couple has their wedding ceremony with an organisation by the name of “Amour”, their love would last forever.

William: However, the couples who visited that organisation never returned. Not just one couple, but a few of them.

When they heard about it, William and Victor conducted an investigation into the matter.

They found out that a man who identified himself as the “Leader” of the organisation was behind those disappearances.

It seemed that he killed the couples, and stole the money that they had saved to start their new life together.

Roger: If that much has already been made known, then why hasn’t he been punished?

(Roger is right, there's no way William and Victor would let that man get away with his deeds.)

William: Ah, that man only shows himself during the wedding ceremony.

(During the wedding ceremony? That means…)

Kate: You want Roger and I to infiltrate the organisation, disguised as an engaged couple.

Kate: And lure that “Leader” out?

William: Correct. After that, it will be up to you to decide how you want to punish him.

Roger: I get what the mission is about, but why me? There are other guys suitable for the role.

Roger: … There’s so many people coming to me injured that I even need Kate to assist me.

William: Her Majesty said that your ears with extraordinary hearing abilities will be useful for the mission.

William: Also…

William: I have a message for you from the Queen’s aide. “The reward for this mission is a Legend Beer”.

Roger: Hey, hey, really…?

(The look in Roger’s eyes changed immediately!?)

Kate: Legend Beer?

Roger: It’s a very rare type of beer produced in Germany, and I’ve always wanted to try it.

Roger: Then it’s settled. Will you marry me, young lady?

Kate: What…!

Roger: If you’re willing, then there's one thing we need to do. Come with me.

Kate: W-Wait!?

While I was still puzzled, Roger dragged me to the common room.

If we were to fail to convince the organisation that we were an engaged couple, we would not be allowed to enter the premises, let alone have our wedding.

In order to avoid such an outcome, it was suggested to us that we come up with a plan on how we were going to prove that we were a real couple.

(... I feel like I’ve just lost to some beer, but I still have to do the mission anyway. I’ll do my best.)

Roger: My current profession won’t do, so I’ll be posing as a boxer and you’ll be a… postwoman.

Kate: I understand that my role is a postwoman because that’s what I worked as before, but why are you a boxer…?

Roger: Hm? Oh, I haven't told you? Boxing is a hobby of mine.

Kate: I didn't know that.

I thought that Roger having boxing as a hobby finally explained his muscular body.

(Seriously, the more things I know about him, the more gaps appear.)

Roger: And that’s for our professions. Lastly, we’ll have to agree on how we met each other. Any ideas?

Kate: Uh… how about I got into some trouble while doing my deliveries, you saved me, and so we started dating?

Roger: Oh, so you’re into that sort of thing?

Kate: That’s not true!

Roger: Okay, okay. Let’s go with your idea.

Roger: What else is there… we might be asked about the things we like about each other.

Roger: Crying is one of your hobbies—

Kate: Wrong!

(I need to correct him or he’ll misunderstand.)

Kate: Watching plays is one of my hobbies. I also enjoy eating delicious food.

Roger: Plays, huh. Your hobby is the complete opposite of mine.

Kate: Really?

Roger: Yeah, I’m quite unfamiliar with the arts and anything related to them. It's just not my thing.

(I thought that I already knew a lot about Roger, but it looks like there are still things I don't know.)

Roger: Anyway, we should talk about what we like about each other.

Roger: Say, young lady, what do you like about me?

Kate: Um…

Roger: Hm?

Seated in front of me, Roger locked his eyes on me as if he were testing me.

His gaze felt strangely alluring, making it hard for me to respond immediately.

Roger: Oops, since you can’t answer that question, I’ll just have to let you know—

Kate: L-Let me know?

Roger: I’d love to bed you right now, but we that would lead to both of us not getting enough sleep in preparation for tomorrow's mission.

Kate: B-Bed me…?

Roger: Pfft, hahaha! Hey, you won’t look anything like my fiancée if you get all upset because of that, young lady.

Roger: Come on, you can just say what you think my strengths are.

Roger laughed in satisfaction, seemingly enjoying seeing my frustration.

(Ugh… I’m always being led on by Roger.)

It felt frustrating to have him pushing me around, so I started thinking about the traits Roger would possibly look for in a potential partner.

Kate: You would like a woman who… has a mind of her own, and looks good when she cries… I guess?

Roger: Heh, you know me so well. I’m impressed.

Roger: Alright, we’ll definitely get through this smoothly. Let’s work well together tomorrow, yeah?

…

— The next day, we arrived at “Amour” and were greeted by several believers dressed fully in white.

Believer: Welcome to Amour. From this moment on, you will be put through a series of tests for us to determine whether you are truly in love with each other.

Believer: Only couples who are truly in love will be allowed to get married and meet our Leader.

(Everything will be fine, as long as we go according to what we discussed yesterday. Alright, let's do this!)

[listenheresweaty]

BURGER VAN BURGER VAN—- Top text, Bottom text. ——— REVIVEBUR X READER - omg guys it’s here can you believe that I took four months to post something I had already written out

——-

Warnings: copious alcohol consumption, mentions of ableist remarks, allusions to underage drinking, jokes about alcoholism by people with drinking problems (addiction is a mental illness guys. Please be respectful about it.) The alcoholism stuff started off as humor based on my own experiences*. I had intended on expanding on it and making it into a larger plot line about recovery/etc but I do not know if I’ll ever continue this work.

*alcohol has played a role in my life but I am not technically an addict. If anything in this fic is offensive, please let me know and I’ll change it/ take it down.

Reader is called “guy” but is otherwise gender neutral. 

There are a couple jokes about Beeduo flirting but it is intended humorously, not with any romantic intent. 

—————-

It was a blisteringly, stupidly hot day, made only more intolerable by the long expanses of hot sand and lack of vegetation. Although, you supposed it was your fault for deciding to get a job in the Las Nevadas Casino- quite literally smack dab in the middle of a desert. Fortunately, just in the edges of the desert territory, where the sands met fresh green grass, sat a quaint, almost minuscule burger van. It received very few customers, partly due to the uninhabited nature of the area and partly because of the owner’s less than appealing reputation. 

You believed that the owner’s— his name was Wilbur--  reputation was mostly undeserved. Sure, he had done some extremely questionable things in his past, and continued to carry himself with a madman’s easy grace and confidence, sending people scurrying out of his way— it was fair to say that most of the people you knew were afraid of Wilbur, despite his lack of physical strength. You, however, could never find him intimidating. He was too much of a loser complete dork. 

Wilbur certainly wasn’t imposing as you walked up to him, eyeing his tall form awkwardly making its way through the van that was clearly too small for him. 

He looked so silly, leaning over the burgers as they cooked, that it was hard to imagine that this was the same man everyone spoke about with such fear. You had to laugh. 

Wilbur stood up straight at the sound, bumping his head against the van’s ceiling and letting out a stream of curses that stopped abruptly when his eyes landed on you. 

“Quite the colorful vocabulary you have.” You teased, approaching the vans window with a playful smile. “Perhaps we should wash your mouth out with soap.”

Wilbur stood still for a moment, hand still braced against the van ceiling, before he relaxed and sent you a lopsided smile. “Only if you do it, darling.”

“Oh shut up.” You laughed. “Why in the world would you make the van so small, anyway? It’s not like it benefits your coworker- the kid’s even taller than you are.” 

“Never question the logic of a genius.” Wilbur sighed like a cat stretching out in the sun, leaning out of the van with his elbows against the windowsill. “What are you doing all the way out here, anyway? You should be working. Don’t tell me-“ he grinned impossibly wider, leaning even closer, “that you missed me that much?”

You snorted. “Absolutely not. You must be concussed. How hard did you hit your head?”

Wilbur’s bottom lip pulled downwards in an exaggerated pout. “Quite hard, actually. I think I might need to see a doctor.” He sighed, dramatically. 

“Awww, poor baby.” You cooed with false sympathy, reaching up above to run your fingers through Wilbur’s brown curls. “Where’d you hit yourself? Here?”

Wilbur was struck dumb, mouth opening and closing without any sound coming out—clearly, he wasn’t used to being flirted with. He regained his composure quickly, leaning into your touch with a self-satisfied smirk. 

“Mhmm.” He sighed, keeping up the act. “I’m afraid it’s terminal. They’ll have to pull the plug on me.”

“Is that so?”

“I’m already hallucinating.” Wilbur announced, ever so dramatically. “Oh, [Name], sweetheart, will you cry at my funeral?” 

“Of course.” You snickered, trying hard to keep a straight face. “Hallucinating? Really?” 

“Hm.” A smirk pulled at Wilbur’s lips. “I’m already seeing angels.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Must every sentence you utter twist itself into a pickup  line?” 

“Only for you.” The corners of Wilbur’s mouth pulled upwards to form an uncharacteristically genuine grin. The smile disappeared as fast as it came, making you wonder if you had only imagined it. 

“Why don’t you come inside?” Wilbur offered, leaning back into the van (and nearly hitting his head, once again, against the top of the window frame).  

You hesitated. 

“I have air conditioning in here.” He added. 

“Open the door.” You said immediately, making your way to the back of the van and jiggling the doorknob. You heard Wilbur laugh and cross the threshold quite quickly, almost frantically unlocking the doors in order to grab your hand and hoist you in. You sighed in relief at the feeling of the cool air washing over you, whisking away the sheen of sweat that the heat had formed on your skin. 

Wilbur patted the counter next to him and you complied, sitting on the cool marble surface and letting your feet dangle as she observed the world outside the van window. It was a beautiful day outside, all things considered. 

Wilbur gestured to the burgers that were still cooking (actually, at this point, you were fairly certain that they were burnt). “Do you mind if I continue churning out my mediocre meat meals?” He asked. 

You snorted. “Go ahead.” After a few beats of silence, you spoke again. “You know, your burgers aren’t that bad.” 

Wilbur hummed, but maintained focus on the dark slab of burnt meat he was trying to chisel off the grill with a spatula. “Is that so? They sure don’t seem to be bringing in many customers, do they?” He leaned in with a teasing grin. “Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere, darling.”

“It isn’t flattery.” You said. “It’s not your burgers that—“ 

You cut yourself off abruptly, cursing your mistake. 

Wilbur clearly understood what you had been about to say, and raised an eyebrow. The quality of his business wasn’t what customers were avoiding- people avoided him. 

“I suppose your right.” He said shrugging. His easygoing and flippant attitude had returned, but there was a more sullen, guarded undertone to his words. You wracked your brain for something to say, but nothing surfaced. 

A clinking of glass broke you out of your thoughts. “Want a drink?” Wilbur offered, eager to change the subject. 

You nodded absentmindedly.  The sun was setting in the horizon, marking the approach of closing hours for most businesses in the area, including the van. Wilbur rummaged through a wooden cabinet before pulling out two expensive-looking bottles and handing one to you. “Help yourself.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Vodka? Where did you get this?” 

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Just a little place I know. Tiny little store far from here.”

“Hm. And this tiny little far-away store sells vodka with the Las Nevadas logo on the cap?” 

You heard him curse softly. 

“Damn.” Wilbur chuckled. “I forgot to remove those.”

You held out your glass as Wilbur filled it, before leaning back against the wall of the van. Wilbur leaned against the counter next to you. 

You swirled your cup around, eyeing the moving liquid before tilting your head back and taking a rather large sip. 

“So, what have you been up to?” You asked him. “When you’re not stealing expensive liquor from the casino?” 

Wilbur shrugged. “Well.. not much honestly. I’ve just been working here at the van. There’s not much I can do on most days— since my fry guy either forgets to come to work or is out flirting with the rival fry guy across the street. Then, I… ‘visit’ the casino.”

You hummed, draining your glass and gesturing for Wilbur to refill it. Wilbur complied. 

“Aren’t you permanently banned from the casino? My boss would kill you if he caught you on the premises.” You continued, only half joking. 

Wilbur laughed. “Oh, he could certainly try. But if a few bans can’t stop me, neither can he.” 

“Can’t he?”

“Of course not.” Wilbur snickered. “He’s like half my height.” 

“He could still snap you like a twig. Hell, I could snap you like a twig.” 

Wilbur smiled. “Oh, I know. It’s hot.”  

You raised an eyebrow. “What’s hot? The fact that I can  beat you in a fight or that my boss can beat you in a fight?”

Wilbur choked on his drink. “Wh- YOU. Not- I’m not-“ 

You burst out laughing. “Damn, okay. I didn’t know that’s the kind of relationship you had with him.”

Wilbur spluttered. “N-no—!”

“I guess there’s more to your rivalry than meets the eye.” You sighed, grabbing the vodka bottle to refill your glass yourself since Wilbur was too busy coughing to oblige. “How romantic.”

“NO. I-I meant YOU—- I don’t have the hots for Quackity, for Gods sake. “ Wilbur looked somewhere between abashed and scandalized. “I hate the man!”

You drained your third glass. “Mm-hmm.” 

Wilbur huffed. “Well, going back to the topic of whether or not Alex— sorry, ‘your boss’—could beat me up-“ 

“He could.” You interjected. 

Wilbur sighed. “Don’t interrupt me. Anyway, YES he could beat me in a physical confrontation— stop smirking!—but you’re forgetting something important. Our rivalry is based on genius. On cold, calculated planning, ALWAYS staying one step ahead…” 

“…and burgers.” You said. 

“And burgers.” He agreed, finishing another glass. “Whew, I should quit drinking for today.”

“You should.” You found yourself saying, the vodka having greatly loosened your tongue. “We wouldn’t want one of today’s beautiful minds to go to waste for a pint or two of heavy liquor.” 

Wilbur stiffened, turning toward you slightly to look at you with wide eyes. His cheeks looked darker than usual, although that might have been the alcohol he had consumed. 

You blinked. “…What?” 

Wilbur paused before speaking, raising an eyebrow. “‘Beautiful mind’?” He repeated, trying to portray smugness but the waver in his voice betrayed some other emotion. “Me?”

You nodded, watching a crimson blush that certainly had nothing to do with the alcohol settle on Wilbur’s cheekbones. You continued speaking. “Yeah. I’ve never met someone who views the world like you do, or has the same talent with words as you. You’re like a poet, honestly. .. you’re pretty incredible.” 

Wilbur stared at you, caught completely off guard for the first time in his life. He opened and closed his mouth, trying to form coherent words, but failed. Oh, the irony. 

It was the last thing he had expected to hear, you realized as you studied his flushed face. After his return, people had been whispering about Wilbur, using several adjectives to describe him-- none of them pleasant. “Insane” and “a ticking time bomb” had been some of the nicer ones. To hear someone compliment the very same thing that everyone had chosen to pick apart and belittle must have moved him greatly. 

You wondered how people could be so foolish. Wilbur had done some reprehensible things, and continued to be morally gray at best, but he was still human.

“Broken mind,” they had all said as he walked past, thinking he wouldn’t hear.

“Beautiful mind,” You had told him. 

Wilbur looked like he wanted to cry, glancing away from you with a poorly suppressed, wobbly grin.

You wanted to hug him. Perhaps he’d appreciate that, after having been isolated and despised for years. 

“I mean that, you know?” You hastily added as Wilbur tried to scoff and brush it off.  

His head tilted.  “…Of course.”

You actually moved to hug him, startling the both of you. Standing a few inches in front of him, you hesitantly opened your arms, praying to the gods that you hadn’t made anything worse. 

He shuddered slightly, nodding, and sank against you, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning his forehead against your shoulder.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

The next day, you forced your way through the casino, with sluggish movements and a pounding headache. You must have drunk more than you thought yesterday. Regardless, you took off towards Wilbur’s burger van as soon as you had the chance. This time, there were two tall figures moving about in the van. Wilbur’s fry guy, a shy kid named Ranboo , had finally returned. 

Ranboo dipped his head in greeting as you approached. Wilbur remained facing towards the grill, seemingly determined not to burn more meat and unaware of your presence. 

“Hello Mx., what would you like to order?” Ranboo asked. 

“Hmmm… I’m a bit indecisive today. What do you suggest?” You responded. 

At the sound of your voice, Wilbur whipped around, swiveling the upper half of his body toward you and Ranboo. 

You met his eyes and smiled, eyes soft. 

“Well, our five-spice burger is pretty popular right now. If you, uh, aren’t a fan of spicy foods, then the chicken patty is also a popular option.” Ranboo was saying. You turned your attention back towards him. 

“Spicy burger sounds great, thank you.”

“And to drink?”

“Just a water, please.” You didn’t think you could handle alcohol after yesterday. Wow, you were a lightweight. 

“Water?” Wilbur asked as Ranboo turned to prepare the ingredients for your burger. “That’s kinda lame.”

“Shush, you.” You retorted. “How are you holding up, anyway?” 

Wilbur hesitated, and Nadia saw Ranboo glance at them curiously. He probably didn’t want to discuss his moment of weakness in front of his employee. 

“The hangover, I mean.” You added. “With all the alcohol you consumed yesterday, I’m surprised you came to work.” 

He relaxed a bit. “Yeah, I’m alright. Doing better than last night at least, but the headache’s a killer.” He frowned in mock offense. “And don’t you twist the story around! You drank almost as much as I did.”

You frowned. “I did not!” 

“You did too. Alcoholic.” 

“I am not an alcoholic. I’m not the one with three bottles of stolen vodka in a drawer.” You pointed out. Ranboo handed over your burger and water. “(Thank you, Ranboo.)”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Wilbur snorted. “You seem more of a wine person to me. You probably have a stash of Pinot noir under your bed or something.”

“Under my bed? Why the hell would anyone store alcohol under their bed?”

Wilbur shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s a wine aunt thing.”

“I give you wine aunt vibes?” You asked. “I don’t even have any nephews or nieces. Or have ever been responsible for any kids.”

“Thank god for that.”

You grinned and halfheartedly slapped his shoulder, ignoring his last statement “Silence, fool.”

Ranboo coughed. “Uhh… if you guys are done flirting… it’s my break now. Can I go across the street?”

Wilbur waved his hand. “Yeah, yeah, go ahead.” When Ranboo was out of earshot, he turned to Nadia and sighed. “Hypocrite. As if he isn’t heading to do the exact same thing.”

“Kids.” You shrugged, ignoring the part about the two of you flirting. 

“He’s seventeen.”

“Still a child. Until he turns eighteen, he’s still a child.”

“Fair enough.” Wilbur stared off towards where Ranboo had run off to before turning back to you hesitantly. “So… since he probably won’t return for the rest of the day, how about you and I go somewhere? Together? You can finish your burger along the way.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Go where?”

“I-I don’t know.” Wilbur’s confidence seemed to falter, his metaphorical mask slipping and revealing the nervousness beneath. “Just… walk? In general? I-I know some nice places— or, well, I know that there are nice places around here-“ 

“Sounds nice.” You interrupted, placing a hand on his arm. “Should we go now, then?” 

Wilbur froze. “Yeah. Now. Now sounds good.” 

That’s it I’m done I can’t with this pacing

[beardedmrbean]

The Left: "I'm pro choice. It's her body her choice. No uterus no opinion.

Also the Left: "Justin Timberlake forcing Britney Spears to have an abortion was actually a good thing, because it shows us how wonderful abortion is because it can benefit men and help them stop their girlfriends from ruining his career with her pregnancy. Remember this fellas next time you vote."

(please do not attempt to read an opinion on the subject of abortion in my response here, it's not something I discuss publicly on here, because I don't want to be accused of pissing on the poor)

Wait what?

In excerpts of her upcoming memoir, shared by People, Britney Spears wrote that she became pregnant with Justin Timberlake’s baby and had an abortion because he wasn’t ready to become a father. 

“Justin definitely wasn’t happy about the pregnancy. He said we weren’t ready to have a baby in our lives, that we were way too young,” Spears writes in her book, according to People. "If it had been left up to me alone, I never would have done it. And yet Justin was so sure that he didn’t want to be a father."

“To this day,” Spears continues, “it’s one of the most agonizing things I have ever experienced in my life."

Spears’ statements underscore the benefits that male partners receive from having access to abortion care — an often overlooked aspect of reproductive health in light of Roe v. Wade’s downfall last year that, if ignored in society and politics alike, perpetuates the idea that abortion is solely a women’s issue.

“Abortion is a highly stigmatized form of healthcare, and women almost always bear the brunt of the stigma and shame around abortion,” said Bethany Everett, an associate professor of sociology at the University of Utah. “Yet, there are likely many people, including male partners, who don’t want to become parents or have another child, who also benefit from abortion access — benefits that are rarely recognized by the broader public or policy makers.”

Everett, who studies the social and political implications of reproductive health, said Spears' claim that Timberlake did not want to become a parent suggests he was aware that a child could “derail his career,” a reality that “men rarely publicly acknowledge” but is critical to recognize in a post-Roe world. 

......

Spears’ statements underscore the benefits that male partners receive from having access to abortion care — an often overlooked aspect of reproductive health in light of Roe v. Wade’s downfall last year that, if ignored in society and politics alike, perpetuates the idea that abortion is solely a women’s issue.

No uterus no opinion,

I suppose the rules change depending on if the guy is for or against the abortion because why wouldn't they.

...................

Andréa Becker, a medical sociologist and postdoctoral research fellow with the University of California San Francisco’s Advancing New Standards in Reproductive Health program, said this example is “consistent with the literature,” in that “men don’t necessarily have to come forward and tell their abortion stories if they don’t want to, even though it would benefit them immensely.”

This pattern is due in part to a lack of research analyzing how access to abortion impacts male partners, a shortfall that Becker said “reinforces the way we talk about birth control, condom use and pregnancy avoidance as a woman’s responsibility and issue.”

**I usually see two to tango from the pro life side and man needs to control himself from the pro choice side so not sure where they get this from, they must know different people I guess**

“We just forget about the sperm involved in creating a pregnancy,” Becker said. 

As a result, stigmas associated with abortion disproportionately impact women.

“Men are rarely acknowledged as beneficiaries from abortion access so it is much easier for them to avoid the stigma and shame around abortion if they don’t think it’s something that impacts them personally,” Everett said. 

“When men don’t speak up, the burden of having to make decisions about unplanned pregnancies and access to abortion falls exclusively on women — and that’s an equity issue,” said Dr. Brian Nguyen, an associate professor of obstetrics and gynecology at the University of Southern California’s Keck School of Medicine. Nguyen runs a research group called the EMERGE Lab that conducts studies aimed at ensuring men recognize their responsibility in women’s reproductive health and gender equity.

While questions still abound about what role male partners should have in the abortion landscape, it’s important to recognize the general lack of knowledge about abortion in the U.S., particularly among some men, Becker said. Consequently, research shows many policy decisions now in place threaten the lives of women and girls who would benefit from abortion care, especially for people of color, migrants, people with disabilities, and those living on low incomes or in rural areas.

"Men do have a place in advocating for reproductive rights,” Everett said. “They can donate to abortion funds and reproductive health care organizations, and, importantly, with the consent of their partners, acknowledge how abortion access has benefited them.”

There it is, which strangely doesn't cover JT pressuring Brittney into having an abortion at all,

I hate double standards, unless they benefit me......(joke)

Make up your mind people, do men have a say or not?

[winxanity-ii]

hey! here to say i’m sorry for the hate and vitriol you received from people angry the character wasn’t white? it’s funny because most media and the world is made for them so to get angry at the few things that aren’t? very entitled but also very fitting for white people

okay, i've been waiting for another ask like this to be sent becasue i'm too shaky to go back to the ones i've had sitting in my inbox for weeks😭, this might be a bit long, but bear with me, i can't help but making sure all points are covered.

so please, welcome how one of my character development moments came to be.... (p.s, sorry for the meme reactions they help me cope/try to remember the entire thing in a more humorous light 🫶🏾)

so basically, the entire issue that pushed me to lashout/get defensive/etc, was because i naively assumed that my thought process would be understood by everyone that came across my book, but in truth, it was more of a miscommunication issue that was exasperated by my using of random signifiers/hair types.

the miscommunications was when some assumed that by me giving the Reader has red hair and yellow eyes, i was assigning characteristics/making an OC, when in reality, i just gave Reader the main characteristics makima—the character who the whole personality is based on—had, which is: red/aurburn hair and yellow eyes.

now, this is where everything went down hill...

see, i tried to do this thing where once in a while, the readers skin tone/hair type was mention/hinted in an insignificant way, like saying:

"You pulled your hair into a bun, the soft curls tangling around your fingers in almost playful resistance; with an annoyed huff, you gave up, letting it fall however it wanted to."

or

"He grabbed your hands, captivated by the way they seemed to fit perfectly in his, unable to stop the adoring comparison; they were smaller than his, the warmth of your sun-kissed skin contrasting softly against his paler shade."

at random, like one moment it'll be curls, the next, straight, etc. ya know? but i also was kinda (read: was in fact) practicing my writing skills overall.

i adore reading—it's one main hyperfixation—so i just wanted to create what i've never had. and my writing style allows me to share this with those who've always felt the same, yet never had the guts/confidence to do it themselves...

anyways, getting back on track, combining the two, i had NUMEROUS angry/upset comments on all the platforms i posted it claiming that i was fishing for reads with a 'fake Reader' and how i needed to put blatant disclaimers that this was a Black OC—yes, you read that right ALL: wattpad, ao3, here, and quotev (especially quotev and here👀).

now, i understand the first part about fishing for reads by using an OC—i've had my fair shares of reading and going "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?!" when getting duped by a good ass fic—but what lost me was that there were more anger about it being a 'Black OC' instead of just being an OC at all 💀💀 like WHAT???

i was so confused (and a bit pissed) because there's no way someone the word 'tan' or 'brown' and automatically assume 'black reader' as if other racial minorities doesn't exist.

like, if i really wanted to make a black reader i would have done way more effort to showcase it, not use a flimsy word or two, but let me stop here before i make an entire essay 💀

also, i'd like to give a small apology first on behalf of not communicating better; like stated before, i'm new to the sudden boom off attention and did not know how to properly deal with an huge influx of commentary.

though i knew it shouldn't have bothered me, the more negative ones stuck out more, so i distanced myself from interacting in general so i wouldn't have to see them at all.

i'll still be distant, but i'll do better at showcasing my appreciation in other ways ❤️❤️

but yeah, that's what happened, but no worries, i just had to suck it up, take a lil break and get back on my writing shit 😎 bad days don't stop these 'tismic delusions ❤️ see you guys soon...

[notquitejiraiya]

8 YEARS

Last year, I wrote my first yearly recap after having been inspired by a tradition set by the wonderful @unioncolours each year. That recap contained an array of fics and thoughts and inspirations after the insane year for me that was 2022. It was a huge year for me in terms of many things. Shortly after my last recap, I got a master’s degree and officially became an engineer, something that honestly spurred on my creative drive. While studying for that degree, I had my coolest year of writing in a while: as you know from the last recap, if you read it, I wrote 9/10, Love Means Nothing (which, yes, will be finished in time, don’t worry), and most importantly, I wrote Strangers.

Most importantly, I say, because the entirety of 2023 would ultimately hinge upon what Strangers began. But that is something we’ll come to in time.

Be warned, this will be long, but if you'd like to read about my last year, please do keep reading below :)

Before we begin with the majority of this essay, I wanna give a shoutout to the lost soul of the year that is Traditions. It wasn’t long and it wasn’t hugely exciting, but it kickstarted this year in terms of fic posting, even if only on Tumblr, and it was a cute one. I always love a little challenge like those from a gift exchange, and it’s always nice to give a gift. I hope it was nice to read, too!

But, starting on the meaty stuff, I think it’s important that I address the two constants throughout the history of this blog. The first, which comes as no surprise to any, is ShikaTema: the most important ship to ever exist, to me, and the heart of some of the most wonderful experiences I’ve had throughout my fandom life. The second constant is a topic explored in a lot of Shikamaru-based content across the fandom and one that I will never tire of.

That second constant is chess.

The game of chess is something very special to me. The first day I met my partner, we played chess against one another for hours (and I lost - the only time he’s beaten me, actually). My best friend, who introduced us that day, gave me a rook keyring that I have kept on my house keys ever since, whether I’ve lived in my home town, another city, or now even in another country entirely. My favourite musical - one of the things I connect to my father best with - centres around chess, its politics, and its capacity for obsession. And probably the most important fic on this blog to date obviously takes its name from the game.

I have no doubt that most people who follow me, especially those of you here on Tumblr, discovered my writing as a result of Chess, either by reading it or maybe through the incredible art which that fic was lucky enough to receive. It was so special and personal to me to write, and while it’s certainly no longer my best work as an author, I’m still immensely proud and pleased with how it resonated with people. I think, so far, it is the most beloved thing I’ve written, at least to others.

But something that always bothered me about Chess was how little chess there actually was in it. Sure, there were a couple of scenes where chess was played, but there was more flower arranging and fish and chips than there was time sitting across a chessboard. It felt almost like a wasted opportunity to write about Shikamaru being a chess whizz and doing next to nothing with the skill. I couldn’t let the idea die. In many of my older stories — Tumblr-only stories — Shikamaru plays chess (or shogi) or inspires Shikadai or Temari to do the same. But nowadays, it feels like it has all been leading up to right now and to the monster that 2023 has birthed.

When I came to write Strangers in 2022, an idea came to me as just a little easter egg. That idea was that, in the Strangers universe, Temari’s husband would be a world-class chess player, and she, too, would have an equally worldwide job. It sort of naturally followed that Temari, too, could be a chess player; what she might lack in terms of natural strategic prowess, she more than makes up for in drive and ruthlessness, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned about chess players in my life, it’s that they hate to lose. Temari 101, methinks. As I made my way through writing Strangers, that fact nipped at my brain tirelessly until, before I knew it, I had a 30k outline and, by association, a goal for what 2023 would be for me as a writer.

2023 would be the year of Grandmaster.

I’ve always been more of a character writer than a plot writer. I think perhaps that’s one of the reasons I’m drawn to writing AUs over canon works; to me, while writing, it’s more interesting to explore how an existing character would behave in a totally alien environment to their canon one, and Grandmaster is this year’s attempt at that.

I mention this because, while I call Grandmaster (GM) a ShikaTema fic, it is, first and foremost, a fic about Temari. Shikamaru is there — of course, he is — and he plays a crucial role in so many of the elements of her life within the story. But the story is unequivocally hers. We see what Temari sees, focus on what Temari focuses on, suffer through Temari’s delusions of her own self-importance, and feel the weight of the expectations put upon her. It’s an exploration of the weight of ambition that’s not necessarily your own, and it has gutted me to write more than Chess ever did.

I don’t have enough delusion of my own self-importance to yet write and publish an essay on this story, why I’ve written it, and how it feels to write it, but there are a few points that I have to voice in this yearly reflection because they’re so crucial to my last year as a writer and online.

You will hear me sing the praises of my friend Bex to the ends of the Earth. While we share a name, we have very different approaches to writing, and we often tell quite different stories, but she is truly responsible for inspiring me to write Temari-centric stories. 100%. If you are reading this and somehow haven't read what I truly consider to be the greatest ShikaTema fic of all time (no one cries for unknown soldiers), follow that link, read it right now, and then come back a changed individual. And you will be changed, I promise, because it changed me on an almost chemical level with its power. Everything you write, Bex, has that power, and it is extraordinary and frankly terrifying in the most incredible way.

I had already started GM by the time you began releasing When I am Gorgeous, but holy fuck, if that didn’t spur me on. The character growth and arcs in those stories are something to behold and something I strive for. With that in mind, the first point of this writing reflection is a thank you to Bex specifically, without whom I wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun writing as I’ve had this last year, and I wouldn’t be sitting where I’m sitting as I write this. So thank you - a hundred times over and more. I am honoured to share a corner of the internet (and a name) with you, my ‘rival’. Thank you.

The second point is another thank you. This time to @clumsydragon28, who is again a dear friend and without whom GM wouldn’t be what it is. From support in DMs to insane and phenomenal essay-like analysis in comment sections, you are outrageously inspiring to em and others and there aren’t words for my gratitude for that. But, as you already know, there are elements of GM and what is to come after GM that exist only because of you and your own beautiful writing and stories. I will refrain from spoiling the joys of the latter chapters of Plié — another absolute must-read where the love and joy of an art form ooze from every word and captivate you with their wholesomeness and beauty — but it helped me find the missing piece at the end of GM that lets me tie it up with a bow, and ultimately set into motion the fic that will follow. I can’t thank you enough, truly, but thank you. 

Having thanked those who frankly made it happen, I’ll get on with the writing-specific stuff. No spoilers, but it will be a little self-indulgent so bear with me.

I’ll start with something kind of trivial. GM is my first real time writing OCs in a fanfic as more than a passing reference. It doesn’t have many because I like to bring in canon characters where applicable. But sometimes that’s not viable, and I’m not about to force some character into a hole they don’t fit into because I hate when other people do that, so Danya and Mischa kind of had to happen. And I’ve had a really fun time writing them. It’s not uploaded yet, but there’s a chapter coming soon that’s quite focused around Mischa, and I think it’s some of my best writing in the whole story, and so GM has kind of gotten me over my fear of OCs. Nobody’s complained about their existence, and they’ve made the story more complete. A lesson learned, for sure.

Secondly, it’s no secret that I really like Rasa. Do I think he’s a wanker? Yes. Do I think hating him for what happened canonically is valid? Also, yes. Do I think that there’s nuance to his character that is often disregarded or forgotten? Absolutely. And, as a result of that, do I think he’s criminally underutilised in fics? Fuck yeah, I do.

So GM has a lot of Rasa. More than I initially intended when I began writing it, actually. He’s there pretty much all the time — if he’s not in the scene, he’s probably influencing what’s going on in it either directly or via years of impressionable behaviours. And it’s been really interesting to write that. Challenging, for sure, because I have to keep in line with all the relationships set out in Strangers and realistically make them come to a head where they do. And challenging in the sense that it doesn’t feel good to write some of the things that Rasa has to say in this story.

There have been a few times in my 8 years as a fanfic author where I’ve written something and actually felt violently emotional after having done so, but GM has given me a fair few of those moments, specifically as a result of Rasa. I won’t say which moments they are, partly because the expectation of how one is ‘supposed’ to feel consuming anything takes away the authenticity, I feel, but I wonder if when people read his dialogue in certain chapters — some already up, and some soon to come — they will feel the same as I did writing them. It’s an interesting thought I’ve never had the opportunity or time to really consider until GM, and one I am sure I will consider more going forward.

Speaking of Rasa and the link in relationships, I don’t know if I’ve even officially said in this recap that GM is the prequel to Strangers. I’ve never written a prequel before, but it’s a unique experience. It’s like working from the end to the beginning; it feels wrong and yet makes perfect sense. Keeping the sibling relationships in line with Strangers is really fun, honestly. Writing that fic, I had little opportunity to just write the three of them having fun or being loving in traditional ways, and I had zero opportunity to utilise Yashamaru.

Writing this fic, Yashamaru has been everywhere, and he has become one of my most beloved characters.

I have nothing else to say on that, I just wanted to give it it’s own line. He’s played a big part of warming my hear this year, and I love him.

Finally, I feel like this fic has really brought out the introspective beast within me. Introspection has always been my forte, but it’s really taken the reins this time. In some ways, I’m quite annoyed with myself for it and for being word and long-winded. I’ve always had the biggest respect for those who can say what they want to say concisely, and I have never been one of those people.

That’s the goal for the 9th year of notquitejiraiya, for sure, and I plan to do so with a fic in the same universe as has captivated me these last 2 years, this time with the focus on Shikadai. Shikadai will be a new challenge for me, too, especially a grown up Shikadai, and I'm excited to try and tell his story, concisely and without even half the discontentment present in both GM and Strangers lol. We deserve some cheerfulness and range here at NQJ Ltd.

But at the same time, I’m proud of the way I write and the way I express myself and the characters within my story. I think I’m quite good at following a train of thought in a realistic way — not quite to the level of my idol, Mr Alex Garland, but I’ve time to learn — and by being Temari-centric, GM has let me into Temari’s head and let me run havoc her thoughts. I’ve received multiple comments on GM about how it’s somewhat frustrating not to have Shikamaru’s point of view, and while I get why: no thanks.

This is Temari’s story. There will be some moments we see through other’s eyes, certainly, but I’m of the opinion that if we saw both sides of GM, it would be far more frustrating. This story will span ten years and for me, it’s an exercise in writing someone piecing together parts of their life during that time into something worth living and figuring things out as they go. In life, while you might get to hear what the people around you think from what they say and how they act, you don’t get the privilege of seeing inside their heads. Neither does Temari, and by association, neither do you. I hope it pays off in the end; I’ll be proud regardless.

But enough about Becks the writer. Something pretty insane happened for Becks the human being last month, something that she’s not completely over. I live in Finland now. I’m learning Finnish, and I’m on Master’s degree number 2 (yes, I am addicted to learning, do not judge me). I have, frankly, no time to write, but am I going to do it anyway? Of course I am. I can’t stop myself, even if I tried. Not to mention, the pressure of my first MSc gave me Strangers, and I’m not going to resist if the 2nd brings on something equally fun.

Another constant this year for Becks the human, that I am certain my friends must be sick and tired of, is The Brothers Karamazov. I bought myself that book as a treat for finishing my exams in 2022 and have been slowly chugging through it for the last year. I’m sure it comes as no surprise with my wordy introspective tendencies that I love a classic, and I think it’s quite fun that I’ve somewhat accidentally aligned reading this particular classic alongside falling into the Bungo Stray Dogs fandom and, even more fun, aligned with writing GM. Two wildly different stories of trios of Russian siblings. These trios – they follow me around, I swear! But jokes aside, I have only 98 pages left of this almost 1000 page beast, and it feels like the end of an era. Never in my life have I seen characters as humans more effectively, and never have I felt more inspired to make sure the characters that I write appear human, too.

But like I say, being wordy is my weakness. The evidence is in this almost 3k ramble alone. There are so many more things I could say, and maybe once I’ve finished GM and it’s all published and tied up with a bow, I might share those thoughts, too.

But for now, I must say thank you to the 8th notquitejiraiya year for being so memorable, despite my blog and my ao3 page having ‘little’ to show for it by way of variety. The 9th year will be a good one, I’m sure, and I enter it with incredible friends — authors and otherwise — and the will (of fire) to improve.

And become more concise. That’s job no1.

Thank you all for playing a part in the last 8 years, whether we’re close or we’ve never spoken. Your time means the world, and I hope you have an incredible day / night / life.

Becks x

[transamorousnetwork]

No, Sexual Abuse Doesn’t Create Trans-Attracted People

Back in May I gushed about the Netflix Limited Series “Baby Reindeer”. My focus, obviously, wasn’t on the main plot, but the sub plot; that being the main character “Donny’s” trans-attraction. I gushed about it because I thought the entire series did a great job describing how shame and self-loathing can create a truly, sucky life.

Which is exactly what Donny lived.

While writing that series of posts, I received an interesting comment from a trans-attracted guy. The comment made a point I hadn’t considered. I hadn’t considered it because I don’t believe the point the writer made about trans attraction or about the show. So the point went right over my head.

I’m glad then, that the commenter made the point. It’s worth taking a closer look at it.

So let’s take a look at what he wrote, then unpack what he’s saying.

The comment

Reading between the lines of his comment, it’s clear the writer isn’t ashamed of his trans attraction. Not only that, it seems he’s out about it. That’s great. So here’s what he had to say. I’ve added some clarifications [in brackets] for reasons that will be obvious:

I was baffled at first that people kept asking me if I’d seen Baby Reindeer – I’ve never seen *any* must-see TV shows. Then I realised there was this cis-trans relationship subplot. People I know wanted to know how I felt about that because they know of my own orientation and dating experience… I thought [transgender actress] Nava Mau’s performance was fantastic and [her character] “Teri” was probably the only likable and relatable person in the show tbh. But I did feel that the show let her down in plot terms. No exposition at all for *why* the main character decided to go on a trans dating site. In an ideal world, sure, it would be unremarkable, but in the real world, it’s obviously not something everyone *just does*. And in that absence of explanation it felt uncomfortably like we were supposed to see it as some kind of sexual trauma response to his previous experiences as revealed in ep. 3. When, after their split, he hardly seemed to give her another thought, that seemed to reinforce that she was almost just a plot device to show him going through stages of trauma and self-questioning. Given that it’s based on a true story, of course, that may just be a reflection of this individual’s reality. And yes, that reality may reflect a wider reality of a lot of cis man/trans woman relationships. But I guess I’m just disappointed that the plotline in that regard always seems to be one of trauma, hangups, internalised shame, etc. That’s not at all my experience in my own relationship, and I’d like for once to see that portrayed! So as representation goes, yes, Teri was a triumph, but as a portrayal of a relationship between a trans woman and a trans-attracted man I felt it was a lot less positive.

Shallow thinking creates condemnation

I really like this guy’s perspective. And, he’s right. I believe a trend exists in the minds of people that trans attraction is a response to some unsavory past. Often, that past includes sexual “trauma”. And while that may be true for some, I don’t think that’s true for the majority of trans-attracted men.

The commenter, clearly, hasn’t had that experience. As well, most of the men I’ve worked with also don’t have sexual “trauma” they’re responding to. Many of them did experience an event which surfaced what may have previously been unconscious orientation behavior. But sexual abuse “trauma” doesn’t create trans attraction in people.

Take me, for example. I didn’t realize my trans-attraction until a girlfriend in Japan took me to a bar that featured trans go-go dancers. That doesn’t qualify as sexual trauma or abuse. But it did open my eyes to an aspect of who I was.

One could say the trope that trans-attracted men trans attracted because of past sexual abuse parallels the idea that trans women are just “men in a dress”. Like the latter, the former offers no introspection or analysis. Nor does it reveal any effort on the part of the speaker to understand trans attraction, nor the men (and women) who orient that way sexually. Such comments don’t point to a truth. They just represent shallow thinking on the part of the person expressing them.

Which is why they’re worthy of us ignoring them.

Another trope needing examination

Trans-attraction is just as valid as any other sexual orientation. For transgender people, it is an important orientation. That’s because such people represent perfect matches for trans people. And because of that, trans people can find love they desire.

I’ve written before about how every sock finds its shoe. The way the Universe works, no aspect of being goes unmatched. There always exists someone to match someone who wants to match with someone.

Now, some people do exist for which no match exists. Such people eventually discover they are happier without relationships. I’ve known women who, after dating men and women, for example, discover their best relationship is with themselves.

That’s a great realization to come to. But it often comes after trial and error. Because all of us are conditioned so strongly to have a relationship. Otherwise something is wrong with us. And that’s another expression that’s gone without much examination.

A lot more happiness would exist if people didn’t try fitting themselves into the box the peanut gallery prescribes. That goes for trans people, trans-attracted people and everyone else.

Stories DO create reality though

All that said, I did have a client who believed part of his experience in desiring trans women came from what HE considered to be sexual trauma involving a relative. After looking at what happened over several months, however, we discovered a couple things about that experience. One, such sexual experimentation between relatives is very common. It’s not sexual abuse. And two, his role in it was far less offensive than he was making it.

In other words, his stories about what happened shaped his judgments about what happened. They also shaped his self-judgement. A self-judgement so harsh he contemplated suicide many times. 

These days, however, this client is becoming more and more free of his negative stories. As a result he’s finding himself more comfortable accepting who he is, what he likes, and what happened in the past.

And that’s the point of all of this. Our stories create our realities. That’s why it’s so important looking at the stories we have. Looking at them we change those that create experiences we don’t like. Every experience we don’t like comes as a result of beliefs we hold. That means any experience we don’t like we have the power to change.

I think Donny, the main character in Baby Reindeer showed us this. By changing his stories he came to embrace who he was. The result not only transformed his life, it also produced a sensational hit streaming show.

Read my series on that show here: Post one, post two, three and four.

[egittae]

"Professor, why is this your choice of dress—" or rather, undress, "—if you are not meant to handle the sun of this intensity?"

Andrei had been eyeing the professor's post for some time, for no other reason than that it distracted him from the only other (much less pleasant) target in his line of sight. He'd seen the students approach one by one, some more hesitant than others, and saw how Professor Lambert received each one with open arms.

He knew that if he wanted, if he so much as asked, he would be treated the same.

(He really shouldn't.)

"I am not here for that, before you come to assumptions," Andrei clarified hastily, waving a hand at the board, "I don't— I don't need that."

But he had approached, nonetheless. Had kept his eye on the professor until a time that he'd found the other alone, and crossed the distance to speak to him. Perhaps it's mere weakness, again, but at least he would not allow himself to indulge in his own childish wants.

Still, when Andrei next spoke, his tone was uncharacteristically meek, almost shy. "I do not know whether healing magic would be helpful in treating sunburns, but I can make an attempt, if you wish it," he said, "I'd learned because— because..."

Because of the sister that had stood aside and allowed you to be killed by Yewfelle's arrow? Because he somehow still wanted to grasp onto any reminder of family, even as he destroyed every bond between them?

(Professor Lambert didn't need to know any of this. What use would it be to divulge yet another part of your ugly past?)

"Never mind. Here," Andrei said, and called forth the soft, white glow of a healing spell, holding it out towards the professor like an offering.

“I must be ready at all times to jump into the water and save someone. Do not get me wrong, I surely would be quite happy to wear a shirt, but swimming with one is not exactly optimal…and during an emergency it is not like I will have enough time to take it off. Worry not however, I have grown used to this state.” He reassured his student with a head shake and a small smile. Truth to be told, Lambert was surprised to see Andrei here of all people.

Sure, the young man did state he wasn’t here for what Lambert was advertising. But a tiny, tiny, very small part of Lambert wondered if it was just another of Andrei’s attempts to put up a front. By now the professor could read his students fairly well- some more than others that is. Andrei was tricky, but Lambert felt he was starting to understand his thought process.

Lambert shrugged, though with a knowing smile. “I am not assuming anything, I am simply sitting here. You are free to do or ask as you wish.”

It was impossible to not catch the difference in Andrei’s tone and the slight change in his demeanor. Having known the boy for quite a while now- the two literally inhabiting the same area and seeing each other on an essentially daily basis, Lambert had grown used to those brown eyes hidden behind a shadow cast by his bangs, his posture reserved and calculated, his voice leveled and at best sprinkled with irritation. 

His knowing smile became softer. Warm and compassionate instead. “You do not need to explain anything you do not feel ready to. There is strength in taking your time to gather yourself and your words, and knowing the moment you finally feel ready to tell someone.” Lambert explained carefully, accepting Andrei’s offer of a healing spell with a nod. “Take all the time in the world with it. Slow progress is not a weakness."

Lambert did however pat Andrei’s head- without ruffling his hair, that is.

[reinarandraw]

“It’s in my wikipedia page. Sam Bellamy’s special talent; singing.”

OFMD Rare Pair Week 2023 @ofmdrarepairweek

Day 06:   Music / Magic / Fake Dating [Art + Fic 1,7k]

This belongs to the Billionaire AU that I wrote for Day 1 Prompt. The link to AO3 post for the oneshot  is [AO3 HERE]

You can click read more and read it here!

If someone told Izzy that he would date one of the richest man in the world five months ago, he would tell them to shut the fuck up. What a fucking joke. Just because his cheating ex-husband was now dating (and also cheated) a rich entrepreneur Stede fucking Bonnet, it didn't mean he needed to find himself a wealthier boyfriend just to piss Edward. He was just the owner and manager of Queen Anne's Coffee, a small coffee shop in London. He was too old to use dating apps like tinder or Grindr or whatnot. How could he find himself a rich boyfriend when he was trapped in his cramped office almost all the time? Izzy didn't have the time to entertain that bullshit so shut up.

Of course the world decided to conspire against him and brought Samuel Bellamy to his shop aka the 6th richest man in the world.

He wasn't sure how they ended up dating for real. One coffee led to the most romantic dinner date Izzy had ever had. A casual hook up led into a romantic relationship that was surprisingly normal, except maybe the occasional gifts he received from Sam. When Sam wasn't in London, they video called everyday, just to say hello and catch up with life. And then there was a full month where they didn't see each other at all because Sam was going to Australia for business. The timezone made it tricky for video calls. They tried to video call at first, but Sam looked so utterly exhausted and Izzy didn't want him to get sick.

Izzy won't lie that he was afraid at first with the fact that he's dating a billionaire. At the beginning of their relationship, the only rich person he knew was Bonnet and Bonnet was a twat. Izzy was delighted to find out that Sam is modest for someone who has a 63 billion net worth. Sure, he lives in a far better neighborhood than Izzy and has assistants and also wears designer suits, but he was very down to earth. He only wears expensive suits to dazzle his business partner. Aside from that, he likes to wear t-shirts and jeans. He doesn't really eat in Michelin restaurants because 'you can get delicious food with affordable prices in the deli'. His gifts to Izzy are all practical things that Izzy needed for his coffee shop or flat. He never looks down at Izzy or assumes he knows what's best for Izzy. Izzy has visited Sam's flat in London and New York and it's hard to believe a billionaire lives there.  Maybe it's all because Sam came from a blue collar family and grew up poor. It's great to see money doesn't really change him. 

"Money can make you happy," Sam told him one day when Izzy asked him about his modest lifestyle. "It seems ignorant to say 'money can't buy happiness' because money can bring you comfort, which is crucial for your physical and mental health. What people fail to understand is there's a certain threshold where money stops bringing you that sense of fulfillment and happiness. It can lead you to the urge to gain more money and reputation to fill that void or you can say some bullshit like 'money can't make you happy'."

"Is that why you reject the rich man stereotypes?" Izzy asked him.

"Having enough is the key to my happiness." Sam smiled at him. "Especially when I have someone like to share it with me."

Izzy still remembers the slow love making that followed that conversation.

And now five months later, Izzy and Sam's relationship is still going strong despite the distance, time zones, and social status. How do they make their long distance relationship work? Two words; mutual devotion. Izzy came from a relationship where he was the one who devoted his life for his partner. Having someone eagerly devoting his time for him is great. Sam is super busy but he always has time for Izzy. 

"Ooh, someone is missing his boyfriend," came Lucius' annoying voice.

Izzy turned to glower at him. He regretted agreeing to Fang's request to hire Lucius. He already works for Bonnet at Gentleman's Dining, but he needs more money this month to fix his boyfriend's PC. He's super chatty and nosy and he pissess Izzy off. His friendly charm is good for the business though.

"Shut up, Spriggs," Izzy grunts while keeping his eyes fixed on the coffee shop's visitors.

"I'm going to shut up if you tell me who's your boyfriend," Lucius says.

Izzy doesn't know how Lucius found out he had a boyfriend. Thankfully, Lucius doesn't know who he is - he  needs to thank Ivan and Fang for keeping it a secret. He and Sam are both private people. And considering Sam is a public figure and one of the most influential men in the world, it's safer for them both to keep their relationship a secret.

"Can you show me his picture?" Lucius tries again. "Come on, I just want to know. If he's hot I'll tell Stede and Ed so they're going to be jealous."

"It's not your business," Izzy grumbles. Hearing those names still makes his blood boil.

Lucius rolls his eyes. "You're not fun."

"We're here to work. We're not supposed to have fun."

"Ugh, I bet your boyfriend is as boring as you."

Boring? Sam Bellamy is far from boring.

"Oh my god, did you just smile?" Lucius teases him. "I really need to know who he is now!”

Speaking of the devil, his phone vibrates, notifying him of a new message. Izzy takes his phone and smiles when he sees a message from Sam, asking if it’s ok to do a video call now.

“If you need me, I’ll be at my office,” Izzy tells him while walking away.

“Ooh, are you going to call your boyfriend?”

Izzy flips him off before he disappears behind the back door.

Once he’s finally alone in his office, he plugs his earphone then presses the video call button. It only takes three rings for Sam to answer his call. His irritated mood is gone completely when he sees Sam’s face. It seems he’s fresh from the shower, considering his hair is all wet. Sam looks a bit tired though. Despite all that, Sam still looks so breathtaking.

“Hello, darling,” Sam greets him, “how are you doing?”

“Lucius has been a twat all day,” Izzy tells him. “How’s the flight to New York?”

“The flight itself was great. The actual city though.” Sam gave him a thumbs down. “Traffic is bad. It’s cold.  I can’t believe I miss Melbourne just because it’s warmer.”

Izzy chuckles at Sam’s misery. “Man up, Bellamy. You just need to wear more layers.”

“Screw you, I’m a Southerner. Thirty degrees is too cold for me,” Sam complains.

Izzy does a mental calculation to convert Farenheit to Celcius. American and their imperial unit. “Does it mean you’re going to wait until Spring to come here?”

“For you, darling? I’ll go through a snowy mountain if you need me,” Sam says. 

That was so cheesy. Izzy should cringe at how bad it is, but he finds himself smiling. Fuck. He’s really smitten with this utter buffoon. “You better be. You’re the one who can afford a plane ticket from London to New York.”

Sam chuckles, warm and low. It sends a pleasant tingle to Izzy’s entire nerve. “I’m going to London next week. I should be there for 2 weeks, if Paul can help me with my schedule. Why don’t we do something fun together? What do you want to do?”

Sam always asks him that when he’s in London. He always asks, ‘what do you want to do’ or ‘what do you want to eat’ or ‘where do you want to go’. It really feels nice to be someone’s priority. Izzy tries to balance it by giving all his best to Sam in return.

“You twat, you’ll be here for work,” Izzy reminds him. “You won’t have time to have fun.”

“Correction; I’ll be there for business and pleasure,” Sam argues. “Why don’t we watch a concert? Will there be any good concerts next week?”

“I’m too old to go to a concert,” Izzy says.

Sam is giving him an unimpressed look. “I’m older than you by three months. Stop making me feel so ancient.”

Izzy takes a deep sigh. He really doesn’t fancy the idea of going out. Sam is an extrovert who thrives in public places. “Can we just spend our time together quietly?”

Sam nods his head. “I guess we can spend our time at your place.”

“Let’s just go to yours. Your flat is better than mine,” Izzy says. He then remembers something. “You promised to play your piano for me the next time you’re back in London.”

“Oh, right! I need to prove to you that the piano is not a decoration,” Sam says. “I can give you a mini concert. How about that?”

Izzy smiles at the thought. “A private concert from Samuel Bellamy?”

“Your man here is a singer. Don’t you know that?” Sam teases him back. “It’s in my wikipedia page. Sam Bellamy’s special talent; singing.”

Izzy laughs again. “Didn’t you pay people to make your wikipedia page look good?”

“I did but the singing part is true,” Sam insists. “I’ll show you.”

Oh, this is interesting. “You’re going to sing now?”

“Hey, I sing every time I have a shower,” Sam says.

Before Izzy can say anything, Sam starts to sing.

Holy fuck, Izzy isn’t ready for that.

Unforgettable that's what you are

Unforgettable though near or far

Izzy is not ready for Sam’s bass voice. It’s so warm and rich and it’s just incredible. Izzy has suspected that Sam can sing judging by how he talks, but he didn’t expect him to be that good.

That's why darling, it's incredible

That someone so unforgettable

Thinks that I am unforgettable too

There’s a period of silence when Izzy is trying so hard to process what just happened. That voice is just so… good. And that song combined with his intense eyes? No wonder his cheeks are flaming hot right now.

“How is it?” Sam asks with a smirk. Oh, he knows e

“Fucking twat,” Izzy murmurs. “You better do that private concert once you’re here.”

Sam beams at him. “It’s a date.”