#I feel like since I played the beta I have had more time to cook up how it fits into trod rather than just from the release date

[bamsara]

I know you said you don’t really plan to add the goat to trod, but i keep thinking it would be funny if they randomly showed up like a guest celebrity on a disney channel show

Also really curious to see how you will eventually write the final bishop quests whenever trod gets to that point of the story

Since you can continue the main story plot without the Goat (you know, because it's mainly for multiplayer functionality) they're not really nessassary for the plot but I think it WOULD be funny if there was a sudden cameo

-also, the final bishop quests are technically already drafted, I've had more time to think of where they fall into Trod and honestly I'm really excited to show you guys in the future

[sinfulspencer]

Flashed

Prompt: It’s too hot to wear clothes at home, so Reader walks around in her underwear. Spencer loses his train of thoughts at the sight.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (18+)

Warnings: light dom/sub dynamic (Dom!Spencer, Sub!Reader if you squint), dirty talking, hair pulling, light impact play, breeding kink, unprotected sex 

Words: 5.0k

A.N.: Horny Spencer. That’s it. Also, this is the first official Spencer Reid fic I have written since last year. It felt so good to write for him again. Written this with a prompt from the Summer Sunshine challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins. Thank you to @reidselle and @drgenius-reid for beta-reading this fic!

MASTERLIST. REQUEST GUIDELINES. TAGLIST FORM.

When Spencer asked you to move in with him at the end of the year, he was ready to face every challenge that life would throw at him. The first fights over laundry, the first fight over whoever almost set the house on fire, the first fights over the person that was supposed to remake the bed before going to work, the first fights over whoever left the TV on before going to bed… 

He was prepared for everything.

Spencer learned to cook (he wasn’t good at it, but he knew how to turn on the stove and boil some water, at least). He learned how to do laundry. He learned how to clean the floors without you falling on your own ass because he forgot to tell you that the ground was wet. 

But Spencer wasn’t ready for the summer. 

You moved in with him during the fall season, when it was still cold outside, and it was time to drink hot chocolate in front of the fireplace. You moved in with him when you were still wearing a winter jacket, leather boots and a scarf around your neck. You moved in when the wind was so cold that you could barely keep the window slightly opened in the bathroom after taking a shower to let the steam go out. 

Spencer wasn’t fucking ready for summer.

The hot weather was already taking a toll on his poor body and he hated it. Spencer despised the high temperatures because they made him sweat like a pig and he hated, more than anything, the feel of sweat under his armpits or behind his knees. 

Normally, before you moved in, Spencer would spend the whole time at home completely naked or wearing only underwear. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence, but it happened quite a lot. 

What was the problem, then?

Spencer used to walk around in his apartment in his underwear when he was alone, but you’re doing it while he’s in the house. He knew you paced around the house that way because you felt comfortable, but still. He was a stupid man, with hormones that rushed through his body like crazy.

You walked around your shared apartment with nothing on but a pair of panties that Spencer always wanted to rip off you and a stupid bra that made your breasts look even more delicious. 

And the sight had started to take a toll on Spencer for the worst. He was constantly horny, making it difficult for him to focus on simple tasks such as cleaning the whole apartment or doing laundry. 

He woke up one day and you already were parading yourself in your underwear, which made his morning wood even more difficult to take care of. He came home that same night and you were still in your underwear, which led him to forget he was supposed to grab some dinner with Luke because he ended up taking you against the bedroom door.

Spencer didn’t want you to wear clothes if you were too hot, but he also needed to learn how to keep his hands to himself whenever he saw an inch of your naked skin. He felt like a teenager, always eager to touch and ravish what belonged to him.

When Spencer tried to explain the situation to Luke, his colleague laughed right in his face. At first, Spencer was offended. 

‘Why are you complaining about seeing your girlfriend’s tits? You should be happy she feels comfortable around you.’

And Spencer was happy; he truly was. He was proud to know he made you feel good about yourself and allowed you to walk around the house almost naked, but he also felt like an idiot for getting a boner whenever he thought about coming home and knowing he’d find you dressed like that. 

Or better, undressed. 

That night, Spencer couldn’t wait to get home and tell you that he had a birthday party to attend next week. It was Penelope’s birthday and, as every year for the past ten, she had an entire day planned for her and her friends from work. There would be a huge pool party in a small agritourism she rented for the day, followed by a barbecue and a whole garden to explore. 

Spencer was excited to bring you there. 

You had been dating for over a year now and you couldn’t meet his co-workers and friends because you always had meetings to attend, or shifts that were incompatible with the nights the team hung out all together. 

“Y/N?” Spencer called out when he entered his apartment. 

The lights in the kitchen were on and he could hear you humming to a song blasting from the speakers. 

He dropped his bag on the floor and followed the sound of your voice, only to find you in nothing but your underwear. Again. You had your back turned and were swaying your hips to the rhythm of the music, making Spencer smile at the sight. Though the music was loud and almost hurt his ears, he was willing to tolerate the loud volume if it meant he could observe you in your element for hours on end. 

He was so enamoured with you even though you weren’t doing anything in particular. He fell harder for you everyday just watching you exist, breathe and live on your own.

But of course, the romantic thoughts in his head abruptly stopped when you felt his presence in the room and you screamed.

“Fuck! What the fuck, Spencer?!”

He didn’t want to laugh at your terrified expression, but a chuckle fell from his lips. 

“Did I scare you?”

You roll your eyes, dropping your apron on the counter. “No. I screamed because I was learning how to fry scream. Fuck yes, you scared me.”

Spencer walked to the other side of the kitchen counter and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight hug. You smelled like apples and he could see them in the corner of his eyes, all peeled up. 

“How was work? Did you get your stuff done?” you asked

Spencer nodded his head, kissing your temple without losing his grip on you. “Yes. I’m exhausted, though. I couldn’t wait to get home so I could relax and enjoy some time with you.”

You leaned forward, caressing his soft curls. “I bet you’re tired. You’ve been awake since five in the morning.”

As Spencer left the kitchen to get changed, he heard the music turning back on and he smiled. Your footsteps echoed in the room, and he smiled because he knew you were dancing to your favourite songs again. But still, there was a big problem that needed to be solved at that instant. 

You were still in your underwear and of course, he had noticed that. How couldn’t he? 

Spencer saw you for less than three minutes and yet, the bulge in his trousers made it difficult for him to think straight. He didn’t know how it was possible for you to turn him on that much, but you did and it was starting to make things harder for him.

If Spencer brought you to Penelope's birthday party, you were definitely going to wear a bikini. And a bikini is basically the same thing as your underwear… which meant one thing.

“Oh no.”

“Are you talking to me?”

Spencer turned around, attempting to cover the issue between his thighs with the jacket he brought to work that morning. 

“Uh, no love. No, I was just thinking about… something.”

“Care to share?” you asked with an innocent smile.

Spencer knew that smile was actually innocent; you had no ill intentions, but his brain was starting to play games with him. He was so turned on that Spencer thought every little microexpression on your face and every move you made were just actions to tease him and work him up. 

They were not. Or maybe they were.

“Sorry, uh… Yeah. Penelope invited me to her birthday party this Saturday.”

Your face enlightened at his words. “Oh! That’s so nice!”

“She asked me to bring you, too.” 

“I don’t like the tone you just used. If you don’t want to bring me, that’s…”

Spencer widened his eyes, realising that his words might’ve sounded rude. “No! I’m excited to let you meet all of my friends and co-workers, truly.”

“Then, what is it? I know there’s something that bothers you.”

You sat on the bed with your legs crossed, waiting for Spencer to continue but, he didn’t dare to move. If he placed his jacket on the bed, you would’ve noticed the painful tent in his trousers. If he didn’t move, you would’ve asked him why he wasn’t taking off his clothes and putting on more comfortable ones.

Too many thoughts were running wild through Spencer’s brain and it was difficult for him to gather them all, cast aside the naughty ones and focus on the more normal ones. 

It was tough not to stare at the curves of your breasts and how he could see the shadow of your nipples hidden behind the fabric of your bra. He has spent so many hours just licking and sucking your skin around your breasts, that he can still taste you on his tongue if he focuses hard enough. 

“Penelope has rented a whole place for all of us.”

You hummed, tilting your head. “Sounds really nice. Is there a swimming pool involved? Is that why you’re worried?”

Spencer bit his bottom lip, forcing himself not to stare at the way your hair fell over your shoulders and covered the laces of your bra. A few days ago, he used his teeth to remove that same bra. It was a struggle not to think about that night, and he pathetically failed.

“I’m sure the place she rented is clean and…”

As you started to speak and comfort Spencer over his fear of germs, his mind wandered elsewhere. You moved to the centre of the bed to be closer to him and laid on it, with your arms behind your head and your body all stretched out. 

Your bra barely covered your full breasts and your thighs were much more visible, with all the little bruises still peppering your skin. The same bruises he caused two days before. The same bruises you begged him to create on. 

Spencer’s brain was starting to get even foggier. 

“Are you even listening to me, love?” 

You snapped your fingers in front of his face and Spencer dropped the jacket on the floor, quickly bending over to pick it up. Of course, he was listening to you, but he was just… thinking about something else while you were talking. 

“Hm.”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

Spencer turned away from you and looked down, frowning. His bulge was still there and getting more painful, but how in the world was he going to face you and ask you if you could help him out? He knew you would, in a heartbeat, but he felt miserable. 

How could he ask you to stop walking around his place in nothing but your underwear when he wanted to worship your body every hour of every day? How could he deny himself the sight of your stunning body? 

His eyes went straight to your breasts and of course, you noticed it. 

“Spencer!”

“Hm? What’s up?”

“My God.” - you started to say, sitting up on the bed - “You’re distracted! You can’t even finish a sentence or listen to me.”

Spencer hummed again, forcing his eyes to stay on your face. Unfortunately, they slipped down to your breasts once again - but that time, Spencer didn’t deny it. How could he? He had been so obvious since he arrived home, but you thought to yourself that maybe you were imagining things.

Or you were too horny, but you weren’t. He was. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“You’ve been staring at my breasts since you saw me in the kitchen.” you stated

Spencer sighed, turning his back on you again. “I’m sorry. They’re distracting.”

“Look at me, love.”

He lingered for a few seconds, covering his face with both hands. He didn’t want to turn around because he knew you would’ve teased him for hours on end, but it truly wasn’t his fault. It was his brain that tricked him into staring at your boobs and remembering all the things he did to you the night before and all the other days. 

It wasn’t his fault he had an eidetic memory and he could replay all your moments of intimacy together each time he wanted. How you looked when he kissed your neck, how you moaned when his tongue swirled around your nipples…

“You can look at them whenever you want, you know.” - you tapped his shoulder, kneeling behind him on the bed - “I’m your girlfriend, aren’t I?”

“That’s not the point, Y/N.” - Spencer replied, forcing himself to turn around - “You’re so distracting, I can barely think when you’re there… dressed up like that.”

You raised your brows. “Do you want me to change?”

“No!” - he exclaimed, before clearing his throat - “I mean… maybe. I don’t know, but I can’t keep getting hard because you’re half-naked.”

“What’s wrong with being attracted to me, love?” you asked with your arms crossed.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know, but it’s hard to be around you when all I think about is how I want to just…” - he took a deep breath before shaking his head - “I need to behave, I’m sorry.”

There was a moment of silence where you pondered over his words. He seemed so miserable and all because he was so attracted to you that he could barely think, that he could barely remember that he had other things to do other than you. 

That felt incredibly hot. 

Leaning forward, you placed a hand on his hip. “I want to hear what you’re thinking about right now.”

Spencer shook his head, covering your hand with his. “It’s too early.”

“It’s never too early to make love to your partner, Spencer.”

You were right, he knew that, but he also knew that if he kissed you and took you right there, he would’ve spent the whole night just trying to do it over and over until you were too tired to move or to keep your eyes open. 

Spencer sighed and looked down at you. “You drive me crazy.”

“And what’s the harm in that, love?” you asked innocently 

He moved his hands under your neck and forced you to look at him, gripping your chin with his fingertips. You went quiet, trying to decipher the expression on his face, though the tight grip was already a good hint of what he was thinking about.  

“No harm.”

“Exactly, so… What’s stopping you?”

Spencer knew nothing was stopping him from pressing your body onto the mattress and pounding into you. He had every right to do so because he knew you wanted it as much as he did, but still. There was an issue to fix and he refused to let his hormones get in the way, once again. 

But maybe just this time, Spencer thought.

You leaned your head against his palm, and closed your eyes when his fingers brushed over your cheek. He could look at you for hours, admiring how you basked in the sweetness of his touch that you found so comforting. 

“Nothing’s stopping me.”

You sighed, running your hands over his chest. “Good.”

Spencer unbuckled his belt and the metal clanking of it falling onto the floor brought an eager smile to your lips. Of course you smiled, because you were about to get exactly what you wanted since he came home. 

Little minx, Spencer thought. 

“You don’t need to hold back from what you truly desire, Spencer.” 

He drank up your words like they were the sweetest honey and he sighed. You were right; he didn’t need to stop himself from putting his hands over you if you wanted to be touched as well, but still.

“If you want to rip my underwear off me, you can do it.” - you muttered, slowly opening the buttons of his shirt - “If you want to fuck me like this, while I’m almost naked and you’re still dressed, you can do it.”

Spencer watched as your skilled fingers pushed his shirt off his shoulder and sighed, because there was nothing else he could do or say at that moment. You had him wrapped around your tiny finger and you knew it, which was why he loved you so much. You could’ve snapped your fingers and he would’ve dropped to his knees for you. 

“I just.. I just need to have you. At all times.”

“You can.” - you replied with no hesitation, only firmness in your voice - “I am here for your pleasure. Always.”

Spencer released a long sigh. “I know. I’m so lucky.”

Pushing his trousers down his legs to reveal his soft skin, you looked up at him with your lips turned into a wicked grin. You could see the emotions rapidly changing behind those eyes: lust, frustration, love, annoyance and desire. That was exactly what you wanted: you craved to drive Spencer crazy and you needed him to lose his mind over you. 

It made you feel powerful.

“You’re so pretty when you’re desperate for me.” you said 

Spencer leaned into your touch when you reached out for his face. “So are you, princess.”

But the tender moment was gone as fast it came, because there was no time to be nice to one another. Spencer wanted to wreck you and you wanted him to do as he pleased; you wanted the pleasure to consume him, and so it did.

Spencer kissed you for the first time since he came home and, of course, he had no time to be nice. His tongue pushed into your mouth without warning, but you let it as you laid down on the bed with the man on top of you. The kiss expressed all the frustration that had built within him ever since he came home and found you in the kitchen, wiggling your ass to the music and singing at the top of your lungs. 

His teeth dug into the soft flesh of your bottom lip and you whined, almost tasting blood on your tongue. 

“Let me be rough tonight.”

You grabbed him by the chin, staring right into those honey-coloured eyes. “Perhaps I was not clear with my words a moment ago, Spencer. I want you to do whatever you want to me.”

Spencer groaned at your words and pushed any rational thought out of his mind, allowing the frustration and profound desire felt for you to drive him. His pupils were blown wide with unbridled lust making you shiver, bringing the heat between your thighs where you so desperately wanted to be touched. 

Spencer kissed your mouth before moving down to your throat, attacking it with bites and gentle licks that made you whimper. 

“I’m going to ravish you tonight, my princess.” - Spencer whispered to your ear, running his hands all over your breasts - “And you’re going to take my cock like the good girl I know you are for me, yeah?”

“Yes. Yes, love.”

He moved his hands to your face, kissing the tip of your nose. “Hands and knees.”

You scrambled to turn around, struggling to move as his arms didn’t give you as much space as you needed. Spencer, ever so helpful, pulled your hips up when you managed to roll on your tummy. 

“Good girl, that’s it.”

You could feel his cock against your ass when he leaned forward to bite your shoulder and you moaned, closing your eyes. His nails dug into the soft flesh of your back, dragging your panties down your thighs before throwing them on the floor. 

Spencer’s mouth wandered down your neck, leaving a trace of kisses that started from your right shoulder and went down to your ass. He nibbled at the soft skin right below it before biting down, hard enough to draw blood. You yelped at the feeling, but didn’t complain as your hands scratched the blanket. 

Spencer pulled away for a second and traced the small wound with the tip of his index, earning a hiss from you. It hurt, but you wanted it to hurt - you promised you’d bleed for him, and bleed you did. 

“Good girl. So pretty for me.” - Spencer whispered, but you were more focused on the sound of a bottle of lube being opened - “I’m sorry, I’m so impatient to have you. I wish we could take this slow, but I can’t.”

“It’s okay, I know you’re desperate.” - you mumbled, moaning softly when his fingers breached your entrance - “It’s fucking cold.”

He chuckled at your reaction, smearing the lube all over your already wet slit. “Oops”

When you were ready, Spencer found no resistance as he slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside of you. He watched the way your walls welcomed him in and revelled in the sweetness of your whimpers and whines when you felt him. Spencer waited, watching you as you struggled to stay still for him. 

“Please, just… Get inside, for fuck’s sake.”

“Oh? Wanna take it all at once, my princess?” - Spencer asked, running his left hand through your hair - “Are you desperate for my cock? Then, fucking have it.”

In one hard thrust, Spencer bottomed out inside of you and you fell on the bed with your face in the pillow. You trembled when you finally felt every inch of his cock inside of you and you thought you were ready to fall off the edge in less than a minute. 

You were desperate for him every single time you had the chance to make love to him.

“Take it, princess. You wanted it and now you have it.”

Spencer watched you as you arched your back, tightening your grip on the bed sheets. A chorus of curses and moans flows from your lips as you try to get back on your knees, but his thrusts are too quick and harsh to let you get in position. So, again, you fell down with your face in the pillow. 

The pleasure quickly expanded through your body as Spencer never slowed down the pace of his thrusts, basking in the gentle sounds of your moans. His right hand travelled down to reach your ass, and before you felt it, you heard it - there was a brief moment of silence, followed by a loud smack and then a deep heat diffusing over your skin. 

It had been so long since he spanked you, but with that position, you couldn’t blame him.

The sensation heightened the pleasure within you. 

“Oh, fuck!”

Spencer moved both his hands on each side of your head and leaned forward, keeping his thrusts quick and regular. You could feel his body tense each time you tried to push back into him, to fuck yourself onto his cock. 

You were already close, desperate to ride that delicious end. 

“Please, more.” - you cried out again - “Please, I’m close.”

“Don’t you dare.” - he bit your earlobe - “Don’t you fucking dare come on my cock now.”

You whined at his order, not sure how you would be able to hold it and be a good girl for him. It wasn’t easy to hold an orgasm, especially if Spencer never stopped fucking into you with all the energy he had in his body. You were so close, you were right there but Spencer stopped his movements - and suddenly, you felt a warm tear slip down your cheek.

A single tear of frustration. 

Spencer forced you on your back, pushing you onto the mattress before sliding his cock back inside of you. 

“I want to see your pretty face when you come, princess.” - Spencer whispered, lifting your right leg and wrapping it around his own waist - “I want you to look at me as you come undone on my cock.”

His pace is as rough as before and you felt more tears spill from your eyes. Your hands quickly went behind his neck as you rolled your hips, a pathetic attempt at fucking yourself back onto his cock to feel more and more. 

You couldn’t form a coherent sentence. The only word that fell from your lips was a strained ‘yes’ that echoed in the room, encouraging Spencer to go harder and faster, to tear you down piece by piece.

And he looked fucking stunning as he did so. 

His lean body, his muscles were tense, a single strand of hair falling over his forehead and his tongue poking out in concentration… You wanted to get those details tattooed on your brain, on your body, every-fucking-where. 

“Such a good girl for me, huh? My pretty princess.” - Spencer whispered, looking down at you - “Always welcoming me with nothing on, knowing how crazy that makes me.”

Your lips opened slightly, more whimpers flowing from them. 

“Do you know how difficult it is to get out of here and not remember all the times I’ve fucked you against the door?” he said, his voice rough.

You shook your head, not sure if you understood what he said. 

“Fuck, you make me so horny. I fucking love your body.” - he mumbled, pressing his forehead to yours - “I always think about it and then I see dressed like that… It’s like you’re always begging me to bend you over and fuck your pretty cunt.”

You’ve always loved his dirty mouth, but that day it felt deliciously perfect. His thrusts were rough and faltering, which meant he was close to his orgasm too - you almost forgot you were close, totally enamoured by him and the way he spoke about you.  

“My slutty princess.”

You nodded with a smile, drunk on your lust for him. “All yours to use and destroy.”

You felt the pleasure built up again right behind your belly button and you knew you were close again. Spencer must’ve noticed it because he kept his pace quick, never changing the angle because he felt you clench hard around him each time he bottomed out. Your thighs were shaking around his waist and he could feel your heartbeat quickening under his fingertips. 

“My good girl.” - he mumbled, closing his eyes for a moment - “I can feel you’re close. Do you want to come on my cock, princess?”

He didn’t need a verbal answer, because soon your cries of pleasure were enough. You widened your eyes and threw your head back onto the pillow, crying out his name over and over as your nails dug into his shoulders. He could feel his skin breaking under your nails but he didn’t care. 

Spencer was too enamoured with you to realise how painful your grip was. 

“That’s it, gorgeous. You did so well.” he rewarded you with a kiss on the lips 

You barely felt it, drunk on the pleasure that he fed you. Your whole body was shuddering as Spencer helped you ride out your orgasm, but the more he thrusted, the more pain you felt stabbing you. You didn’t complain, though. 

You wanted it, you needed it and so did he. 

“Does this pretty princess want my cum deep inside of her, hm?” Spencer asked

You weren’t sure he heard you, but you managed to choke out: “Yes. Please, please, fucking do it. Please.”

A few thrusts later, Spencer granted you your wish. His warmth flooded you from the inside as he watched the way his body become one with yours, shivering with pleasure. His right hand pressed down hard below your belly button and you winced, feeling his seed run deep if that was even possible. 

It felt so incredibly good you could almost come again. 

“Ah, that felt fucking perfect.”

You closed your arms around his neck and caged him against your body, so that he wouldn’t be able to run away. Not that he wanted to, of course, but. 

Spencer didn’t move for at least five good minutes, struggling to catch his own breath while you stared at the bedroom ceiling with a grin on your face. You were deeply satisfied with yourself and you were sure Spencer was content, as well - though the conversation between you wasn’t over. 

You knew that not putting on clothes would’ve distracted him and maybe that was exactly why you never put them on when he was around in your shared apartment. It was fun to see him struggling between staring at your breasts or at your thighs, or forgetting that he had to hang out with his colleagues because he was too busy burying his face in your cunt or fucking you against a window. 

It felt good to be desired, and it felt even better knowing that it was the only thing Spencer was able to think about when he was away from you. 

“You have to stop walking around our place naked.”

You put a hand on his chest, gently pushing him upward. Spencer was still lying between your legs, but he was staring at you. 

“Naked? I am always wearing my underwear.” you stated 

Spencer bumped the tip of his nose against yours. “Which is dangerously distracting, Y/N.”

“Oh, you’re using my name in a conversation.”

“I’m being serious, princess. I can’t get a boner whenever I’m near you.” - he explained, pressing a kiss on your jaw - “Believe me, I appreciate the sight but… My brain needs some rest. And so does my penis.”

“Okay, alright. I’ll do my best to keep my clothes on.” - I decided to give in - “After six weeks of pure hell, I think you deserve a break.”

Spencer kissed your cheek, before biting it softly. “I appreciate it, my princess.”

“But that doesn’t mean I won’t do it occasionally just to drive you crazy.” you warned him 

“Oh, I’m fine with that.” - he said, rolling off your body - “But give me a heads up before doing it, okay? I wouldn’t want to come home with Luke and find you in your underwear.”

“Well… it could be fun. Maybe he’d like to join…”

Spencer covered your mouth with his’ before you could finish your sentence, but the kiss was interrupted by your loud laugh echoing through the walls. 

“Alright, Luke will never see me like this.” - you gave him a peck on the lips, pushing him off you before he could spread your legs again - “This sight is for your eyes only.”

TAGLIST @blvebanisters @koukatsuki @moesdraft

BROKEN TAGS @alelaeljfj @donttrustlove

[eiilese]

what if the strawhats had different roles on the ship⁉️ i swapped everyone’s roles except for luffy because i can’t imagine him being anything but the captain

these are loose redesigns since their canon designs don’t really read as their roles all that much to begin with. some extra doodles and ideas for this in the cut !!

nami, vice captain: i took a lot of inspiration from her beta design!! canon nami already bosses everyone around so she fits right into the role. she wields an extendable staff (usopp still makes it for her); she lost her arm over the time-skip like how zoro lost his eye. i LOVE drawing cargo pants and boots, so she ended up with a sorta bottom-heavy design. frankly it’s probably not her style but i like how she looks

zoro, the cook: my foolproof logic is zoro uses swords = good with knives. he does not use katanas to cut produce however, just normal knives. i was trying to go for “sweaty ramen guy” with the towel around his neck. the majority of the shit he cooks would probably be drowned in alcohol. he also wears his bandana the majority of the time now!! it completes the ramen guy look

sanji, the sniper: i also took inspiration from his beta design for this!!! he has guns!! and perfect aim of course. i was going for more of a mafioso look so germa 66 would be like, a mafia organization on top of all the other villain shit they already do. he has two guns but i didn’t draw a holster bc that’s annoying🤞 he lights his cigarettes with his guns. how would that even work? don’t ask me

usopp, the navigator: his artistic talent lends itself to creating perfect maps! he also still tinkers, making nami’s staff as well as having a specialty for compasses. he uses a slingshot still (no perfect aim we gotta nerf him) and shoots weather-related projectiles. his goggles serve as binoculars, they can zoom to several different distances. i drew him in his zou outfit purely bc it’s my favorite one

chopper, the helmsman: he would predominately use heavy point while maneuvering the wheel. i changed his hat up to look more like a sailor’s cap, with an anchor symbol instead of an X. to be honest i don’t have much else bc helmsman doesn’t bring much to my mind :(

franky, the musician: ROCK N ROLL BABY YEEAHHH come on his stage presence is unmatched. he’s still a cyborg, he has instruments all over his body like apoo does but they were installed manually. his personality changes depending on what genre he’s playing but rock n roll is his default B) (ex. classical calls for a refined gentleman)

robin, the shipwright: her devil fruit gives her as many helpful hands as she needs! she developed nami’s arm (definitely installed some random shit she did Not ask for). she has a robot mecha that she’s able to pilot all by herself using clones. i changed her orange sunglasses to goggle eyewear

brook, the doctor: the irony of being nursed back to health by a literal skeleton 💀the irony of being the doctor of the rumbar pirates yet being the only survivor, saving no one from the poison 💀 i went for a plague doctor look! IM VERY HAPPY WITH HOW HE TURNED OUT i was really tempted to give him the plague mask too, but i feel that would’ve changed his appearance too much compared to the others

jinbei, the archaeologist: the shape of this man demands a little pair of round glasses on his face. he’s an intellectual i tell you!!! plus still a fishman karate master. the history of joyboy and fishman island being so intertwined is how he developed an interest in history

[joelmillerisapunk]

Watermelon Sugar

Dbf/neighbor/daddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 6,522

Summary: At the annual neighborhood barbecue, you can't ignore the sparks flying between you and Joel Miller, your dad's best friend. What starts as playful flirting leads to a secret, steamy encounter that leaves you both wanting more.

Warnings: 18+, age gap, unprotected p in v, m! oral recieving, soft but dom daddy!Joel, Joel calls reader baby and sunflower, use of daddy, light choking, hair pulling, and spanking. And a lil aftercare. Reader has hair and wears a bikini.

Notes: I've been slow over here and a little inactive due to adulting ughhh, but thank you all for your love and support 🥰 I truly appreciate all of you! tysm @joelslegalwhre & @evolnoomym beta reading for me. Smooching you both forever. Divider by @saradika-graphics

You stand in front of your mirror, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. The annual neighborhood barbecue is a tradition you've always looked forward to, but this year, it feels different. Ever since you can remember, Joel Miller has been a fixture in your life—a man who could make you laugh with a single look and who always seemed to know when you needed a friend. But lately, the glances you exchange feel charged with something new, something you're not quite ready to name.

As you dab on a bit of perfume, you catch your dad's voice in the hallway, calling out that he's heading over to Joel's early to help set up.

“Be there soon!” You yell back.

—

As you step out of your front door, the warm summer breeze brushes against your skin, carrying with it the mouth-watering aroma of grilled meat and freshly cooked burgers from the neighborhood barbecue, hosted by none other than Joel Miller - your dad's best friend and neighbor, the one youve had a crush on forever. You can't help but feel a flutter in your stomach as you walk towards his house, knowing that he will be there waiting for you.

Your heart races as you approach the familiar scene; tables filled with food and drinks, kids running around playing games, and adults chatting animatedly under the shade of trees. You spot Joel standing near the grill, his broad shoulders moving up and down as he expertly flips burgers on the sizzling hot coals. His tanned skin glistens with sweat from all his hard work preparing for today's event.

"Hey there!" Your dad calls out when he sees you approaching. "Just in time! We were just about to start eating."

You take a moment to admire Joel's form; how strong yet gentle he looks handling those flaming hot coals like they were nothing more than pebbles in a stream; how those little black shorts sit on his body just right, how that white baggy shirt hangs over his big broad shoulders hugging his thick neck just right. Damn it. Why does he have to look so good?

As you draw closer, the heat from the grill is almost as intense as the warmth that spreads through you at the sight of Joel. His head looks up for a moment as he sees you approach, a wide grin spreading across his face.

You take a plate from the stack and start to serve yourself, trying to keep your hands from shaking. The array of food is impressive: potato salad, corn on the cob, fresh fruit, and an assortment of desserts that would make any food lover weak in the knees. But your focus is on the grill, where Joel is now plating a burger that looks like a work of art.

"Here ya go, sunflower," he says. The nickname, worn in like a favorite pair of jeans from years of use, still makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world. "I added a secret sauce.” He whispers, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Tell me if it's as good as I think it is.” He winks, his eyes sparkling with anticipation, and you can't help but feel a flutter in your chest.

As you take the burger from Joel, your fingers touch briefly, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You try to brush it off as static, but deep down, you know it's more than that. You take a bite of the burger, and the flavors explode on your tongue. The sauce is tangy and sweet, perfectly complementing the grilled meat's smoky flavor.

"Mmm," you moan, closing your eyes in appreciation. "This is incredible."

Joel's eyes light up with pride. "M’glad you like it." His eyes follow every movement of your lips, every chew, every swallow. It's as if he's savoring every moment of this interaction.

You try to ignore the flutter in your chest, telling yourself it's just appreciation for a good meal. But deep down, you know it's more than that. Joel has always been kind to you, always looked out for you, but now, as your eyes lock in a silent understanding, you sense something different. Something forbidden.

"So, you really like the sauce?" he inquires, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he wipes his brow with the back of his hand. The gruffness in his voice sends a shiver down your spine despite the summer heat.

You nod eagerly, your taste buds still dancing from the burst of flavors. "Mhmmm! What’s in it?”

Joel chuckles. "That's top-secret information, darlin', Ain't gettin’ it outta me that easy."

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you walk behind the grill and up to Joel. “How about we make a deal? You give me the secret sauce recipe, and I'll show you something I know you wanna see.”

"Alright, you've got my attention."

Slowly, with deliberate grace, you begin to lift your shirt just enough for him to catch sight of the vibrant pattern of your bikini top beneath—your fingers deftly move towards one side strap of this bikini top; teasingly pulling at it as if contemplating revealing even more than intended

"Fuck - " he breathes out, quickly shaking his head to compose himself before grabbing your arm to stop you. "Your dad's right there, the hell you doin'?”

With a mischievous wink, you let the strap snap back into place, leaving just enough to his imagination. "Maybe later then," you tease “If you wanna see the rest come find me Mr. Miller.”

Joel watches you step back and saunter away towards the pool, your words hanging in the air like a challenge. The playful sway of your hips is hypnotic, and he can't help but stare as you make your way over to the pool. He shakes his head, trying to clear the fog of desire that's clouding his judgment. "Christ," he mutters under his breath, turning his attention back to the grill, but the sizzle of the meat does little to drown out the sound of your laughter carried in the breeze.

He glances over at you, watching as you settle by the pool, your legs dangling in the water. You're a vision, your hair catching the sunlight, your smile bright and inviting. He tries to focus on the task at hand, serving people, and making small talk, but his eyes keep drifting back to you. He can't help it; you're like a magnet, drawing him in against his better judgment.

He watches as you reach for a slice of watermelon on your plate, its vibrant red color promising a burst of sweetness. The juicy fruit is cool and refreshing in the summer heat. As you take a bite, the watermelon's juice is so abundant that it escapes your lips, trickling down your chin.

In an attempt to catch the runaway droplets, you quickly bring your hand up to your face. But in your haste, another stream of juice breaks free, trailing a path down your neck and disappearing into the valley between your breasts. The sensation of the cool liquid against your heated skin makes you gasp softly, making Joel groan under his breath. He watches you with an intensity that borders on feral. His grip tightens around the spatula he's holding as he takes in the sight of you, flustered and trying to contain the watermelon's sweet rebellion. His mind races with images he knows he shouldn't entertain—images of him licking away those sticky trails left by nature's candy on your skin; his hands following suit to ensure not a single drop is wasted; his lips tasting every inch they cover until there's no trace of watermelon left.

His body reacts before he can stop it—a sudden twitch in his pants that thankfully goes unnoticed by everyone else due to his strategically placed apron tied securely around his waist. He takes a deep breath to regain control over his runaway thoughts while simultaneously adjusting himself discreetly under the cover of fabric.

Taking the opportunity to step away from the grill, Joel grabs a cold Corona from the cooler, the bottle sweating as much as he is. He approaches you but stops for a split second to watch you. The sight of you lying there, your body still glistening with juices, makes his heart race.

"Thought ya might be thirsty," he says, handing you the beer, his voice deeper than usual.

You look up as he approaches, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "Took you long enough," you say, a teasing lilt in your voice as you take the beer and sip it.

He sits down beside you, his heart pounding in his chest. "You're playin’ with fire, y’know that sweetheart?" he warns.

You just smirk, leaning back in your chair, your gaze locked onto his like a little puppy.

"You keep lookin' at me like that, and we're gonna have a problem," Joel says, his voice a low rumble.

"What if I want a problem?"

His intake of breath is sharp, and you can see the effect your words have on him. His jaw clenches, and there's a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes—something that tells you he's teetering on the edge of control. You watch as Joel quickly gets up from his chair and walks away. He rounds the corner of the house before disappearing.

You wait for a moment before you put your beer down beside the one he left and casually stand up to follow him.

Around the side of the house, away from prying eyes, Joel is leaning against the wall, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. The moment he sees you, his eyes darken.

"What are we doin' here?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You close the distance between you, your body brushing against his. "Something we both want," you reply confidently, your hand coming up to rest on his chest.

He captures your wrist, his grip firm but gentle. "This is wrong," he murmurs, though the conviction in his voice is wavering.

"Does it feel wrong?" You challenge, your fingers tracing the contours of his muscles through his shirt.

For a moment, he doesn't respond, his gaze dropping to your lips. Then, with a groan of surrender, he closes the gap between you, his mouth crashing onto yours in a hungry, desperate kiss. His hands roam your body, exploring every curve as if he's memorizing you by touch. You respond with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, deepening the kiss. The taste of him, a mix of beer and the sweet tang of barbeque sauce, drives you wild.

Suddenly, Joel breaks the kiss, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. "We can't do this here," he says, glancing around to make sure no one has followed you.

You nod, your breath hitching as you realize the gravity of what you're about to do. "Then take me somewhere we can," you whisper back, your hand slipping into his.

With a groan that sounds almost pained, Joel takes a step back, pulling you with him as he leads you away from the party and towards the detached garage at the end of the driveway. His grip on your hand is firm, almost possessive, sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins.

The inside of the garage is cool and dimly lit compared to the bright sunlight outside. It's filled with tools and gardening equipment—a testimony to Joel's many hobbies. The door lightly closes shut behind you, sealing out the world and the sounds of the party. The air is thick with the scent of oil and wood, a heady mixture that only adds to the intoxicating atmosphere. Joel wastes no time, pressing you against the cool metal of a parked truck, his body a solid wall of heat against yours.

"You've been drivin’ me crazy all day," he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Teasin’ me like that in front of everyone."

You can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you, and it sends a shiver of excitement down your spine.

His lips crash onto yours once again, demanding and dominant. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, claiming you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. You can feel his stubble rough against your skin.

"You're playin’ a dangerous game, baby," he murmurs against your mouth.

He spins you around roughly, pressing your chest against the truck's hood. You can feel the cool metal against your overheated skin. His hands tangle in your hair, giving it a gentle tug that sends a jolt of pleasure and pain straight to your core.

"Tell me whatcha want," he commands, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

"You," you gasp, arching your back to press closer to him. "I want you, Joel."

He rewards you with a slow grind of his hips against yours, the friction making you moan. "You want me to fuck ya, sunflower?" he asks, his voice thick with desire.

"Yes," you whimper, your hands gripping the edge of the hood for support. "Please, Joel."

He chuckles darkly, his lips tracing a path down the side of your neck. "Beggin’ already? I thought you liked playin’ hard to get." You feel his teeth nip at your skin as he speaks. Your body trembles with need, your breathing coming out in short bursts. You don't understand why this feels so right, but you don't question it anymore. "Stay still," he orders, his voice firm.

You force yourself to comply, your body trembling with anticipation. He takes his time, his fingers tracing maddeningly slow patterns on your skin. When he finally reaches beneath the fabric of your bikini top to palm your breast, you can't help but let out a moan of relief.

"That's it," he encourages, his thumb circling your nipple. "Let me hear how much you want this."

His other hand slides down your body, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. You're already so wet for him, and when his fingers brush against your clit, you can't help but buck your hips.

"Fuck, you're so responsive," he groans, his fingers circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. You're panting now, desperate for release. But he denies you, pulling his hand away just as you're about to tip over the edge. "Not yet," he says, his voice stern. "You don't come till I tell ya to."

He spins you around once again, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in the sight of you. "I wanna see you baby," he says, his hands tugging at your shorts. "All of you."

You help him undress you, your hands shaking with need. Once you're standing before him in nothing but your bikini, he takes a step back to admire his handiwork.

"Goddamn, you're beautiful," he says, his voice filled with awe. "Now, get on your knees."

You do as he says, the concrete floor cool against your skin. You hear the zip of his pants and then them falling to the ground along with his boxers as he steps forward, his hands fisting in your hair guiding you to his cock. "Open up," he commands, his voice gruff. "Show me how much you want this."

You part your lips obediently, taking him into your mouth. He's big and hard, and the taste of him is intoxicating. You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, eliciting a groan from above and then take him entirely until he's hitting the back of your throat.

"That's it, sunflower," he praises, his hips thrusting gently. "Just like that."

You look up at him, your eyes locking onto his as you take him deeper. His grip on your hair tightens, and you can tell he's struggling to last. "Fuck, you look so good with my cock in your mouth," he says, his voice strained.

Your hands grip his thighs, feeling the muscles tense under your touch as you bob your head, taking him deeper with each stroke. The salty taste of his arousal mixes with the lingering sweetness of the watermelon, creating a heady combination that has you moaning around his length.

"Feels so damn good baby," Joel groans, his voice echoing in the quiet garage. His eyes are locked on yours, filled with a raw, unfiltered desire that sends a thrill through you. You feel his thighs quiver under your hands, and you know he's close. But before he can reach his peak, he gently pulls you away, his cock slipping from your lips with a wet pop.

"Up," he commands as he pulls you to your feet, his hands roaming your body once again. He unties your bikini top, letting it fall to the ground, and then he's cupping your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples. "Tell me you want this," he says, his eyes searching yours. "Tell me you want me to fuck you baby."

"I want it," you assure him, your voice trembling with need. "I want you to fuck me, Joel."

With a growl, he lifts you onto the hood of the truck and with a hunger in his eyes that matches your own, Joel hooks his fingers into the sides of your bikini bottoms, his gaze never leaving yours as he slowly begins to peel them away. The fabric slides down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to him. He tosses the bikini bottoms aside, his hands returning to grip your thighs, spreading them apart as he steps closer.

"You're so fuckin' wet for me," he murmurs approvingly, his fingers tracing the seam of your cunt. You can feel yourself growing warm at his words, but you don't have time to feel self-conscious because he's leaning in, capturing your lips in another searing kiss as his fingers continue their exploration.

One finger circles your entrance before pushing inside, making you gasp into the kiss. He adds another finger, stretching you deliciously as he establishes a rhythm that has you writhing on the hood of the truck. His thumb finds your clit again, rubbing it in time with his thrusting fingers.

"Joel," you moan, your hands fisting in his shirt as pleasure builds within you. "Please..."

He chuckles against your mouth, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. "Please, what?" he teases, even as he adds another finger, filling you even more. "Tell me what you need."

"I need... I need you inside me," you pant out, barely able to form coherent thoughts with the way he's playing your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Joel's eyes darken at your words, and he withdraws his fingers, leaving you feeling empty and needy.

You ready for me, sunflower?" he asks, positioning himself at your entrance.

You nod eagerly, your body aching for him. "Yes, please."

With a groan, he pushes forward, filling you in one slow, deliberate thrust. The sensation of being stretched and filled by him is overwhelming, and you can't help but cry out at the intensity of it. He stills for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size.

"Fuck," he groans. "You feel even better than I imagined."

As the initial shock of your union subsides, Joel begins to move, his hips setting a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Each thrust is a sweet invasion, a claim that leaves you breathless and begging for more.

"Look at me," Joel commands, his voice gruff with need. You lock eyes with him, the intensity of his gaze searing into your soul. "Who do you belong to?" he asks, his pace increasing with each word.

The question hangs in the air between you, heavy with implication. You know the answer he wants, the answer that feels right in this moment. "You," you gasp out, your voice barely above a whisper. "I belong to you, Daddy."

A shudder runs through Joel at the sound of the word Daddy falling from your lips. "That's right," he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he drives into you with renewed vigor. "You're mine, sunflower. Say it again."

"I'm yours, Daddy," you moan louder this time, surrendering yourself to him completely.

The words, once taboo, now feel like a secret language between the two of you. With each thrust, Joel reaffirms his claim on you, his movements becoming more frenzied as he chases his release.

"Harder," you beg, your nails digging into the flesh of his back. "I need more."

He responds with a growl, increasing the intensity of his thrusts. The sound of skin meeting skin echoes in the garage, mingling with your cries of pleasure and his grunts of exertion. "Is this what ya need?" he pants, his hips snapping against yours with bruising force.

"Yes," you cry out, your body coiling tighter and tighter with each powerful thrust. "More... I need all of you."

In response to your plea, Joel reaches up and wraps his hand around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your heart race and your head spin. The sensation of being restrained by him sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins. It's a thrilling mix of fear and excitement that heightens the pleasure coursing through your body.

"You like that baby?" he rasps out, his eyes searching yours for confirmation even as he continues to pound into you relentlessly. "You like it when Daddy chokes you while he fucks your pretty little cunt?"

You nod as much as his grip will allow, your breath coming in short gasps as stars dance behind your closed eyelids. "Yes," you manage to choke out.

The world around you seems to blur into a haze of pleasure and desire as Joel continues to claim your body with an almost feral intensity. His grip on your throat remains firm, yet gentle enough not to cause harm, serving as a potent reminder of his control over you. The sensation of his fingers wrapped around your neck only adds to the overwhelming tide of ecstasy that's building within you.

"Come on, sunflower, come for me." Joel grunts, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. "Wanna feel this pretty little pussy squeezin’ Daddy's cock.”

His words are the final push you need. With a cry that echoes off the walls of the garage, your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, causing your entire body to convulse with the force of it. Your inner muscles clamp down around Joel's shaft, milking him as he continues to drive into you with powerful thrusts.

As the waves of your orgasm begin to subside, Joel isn't done with you yet. He pulls out, leaving you feeling momentarily empty, but before you can protest, he's flipping you over onto your stomach with a strength that leaves you breathless. Your body is still trembling from the aftershocks of your climax as he roughly pulls you up, positioning himself behind you.

"You think we're done?" he growls, his voice thick with lust. "I ain't even close to being finished with this sexy body of yours."

His hands grip your hips tightly as he lines himself up with your entrance once again. With one powerful thrust, he's inside you, filling you completely and causing you to cry out in a mix of pleasure and surprise. The new angle allows him to go even deeper than before, hitting spots that make your toes curl and your breath hitch in your throat.

"Fuck," he groans, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he sets a brutal pace that has the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing around the garage. "You feel so fuckin' good like this."

One hand releases its grip on your hip and tangles in your hair instead, pulling it just hard enough to tilt your head back and expose the long line of your neck. His lips find the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder, kissing and nipping at it as he continues to pound into you from behind.

"Such a good girl," he praises between thrusts, his voice a low rumble against your skin. "Takin’ Daddy's cock so well.”

His other hand comes down on the curve of your ass with a sharp smack that makes you gasp and push back against him for more. The sting of the slap only adds to the overwhelming sensation of fullness as he drives into you again and again. Each smack is followed by a soothing caress that sends shivers down your spine and makes a heat pool low in your belly once more.

"You like it when I spank this naughty little ass?" Joel asks wickedly as his hand comes down on the other cheek, this time eliciting another moan from deep within you. "Answer me, baby girl."

"Yes," you manage to gasp out between thrusts, your body shaking under his relentless assault . "I love it when you spank me, Daddy.”

The sound of your admission seems to spur Joel on even more. His thrusts become wilder, more uncontrolled, as he chases his own release. The hand in your hair tightens, pulling your head back further, forcing you to arch your back and take him even deeper. The sensation is overwhelming, and you can feel another orgasm building within you, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatens to sweep you away.

"That's it, baby girl," Joel growls, his voice ragged with desire. "Come for me one more time."

His words are all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge once more. Your body convulses beneath him, your inner walls clamping down around his shaft as wave after wave of pleasure courses through you.

Joel lets out a guttural groan as he feels your orgasm milk his own from him. His hips stutter against yours as he buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he finds his release. You can feel the warmth of his seed filling you, marking you his in the most primal way possible.

For a moment, the only sounds in the garage are the ragged gasps of your breathing and the pounding of your hearts. Slowly, Joel releases his grip on your hair and hip, his hands gently caressing the skin he'd so roughly manhandled just moments before.

"You okay, sunflower?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with concern as he carefully withdraws from your body.

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. "Yeah," you manage to say, your voice shaky but filled with a satisfaction that you've never felt before. "I'm good. More than good."

Joel chuckles softly, pressing a tender kiss to the nape of your neck. "You're more than good, baby girl. You're incredible."

He helps you to your feet, his arms wrapping around you to steady you when your legs threaten to give out beneath you. His eyes scan your body, taking in the marks he's left on your skin—the redness where his fingers had gripped you, the faint handprint on your ass, the love bites that dot your neck and shoulders.

"Let's get ya cleaned up," he says, his tone gentle as he leads you over to an old sink in the corner of the garage. He turns on the water, testing the temperature with his hand before wetting a clean rag and using it to gently wipe away the evidence of what just happend.

You watch him, your heart swelling with emotion as you take in the tenderness of his actions. This is a side of Joel you've never seen before—a side that's caring and attentive, a side that makes you feel cherished and loved.

Once he's satisfied that you're clean, he helps you dress, his hands lingering on your skin with each article of clothing he helps you into. When you're fully clothed again, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"You're so beautiful, sunflower," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and admiration. "Inside and out."

The warmth of Joel's embrace and the tenderness in his voice make your heart flutter with a mixture of joy and trepidation. You're standing in a moment that feels both surreal and more real than anything you've ever experienced.

"Joel," you say, your voice still shaky from the intensity of your encounter, "what does this mean for us now?"

He pulls back slightly, his hands cupping your face as he looks into your eyes with an intensity that takes your breath away. "It means," he begins, his thumbs stroking your cheeks gently, "that I can't ignore these feelings any longer. It means that I want to be with you, truly be with you, in every sense of the word."

Your heart leaps at his words, but reality quickly sets in. "But what about my dad? What about everything else?"

Joel nods, understanding the weight of your concerns. "I know it's complicated," he admits. "And I don't have all the answers right now. But I do know that I can't go back to pretending there's nothing between us, that you're just my best friend's daughter.”

You smile at that, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "So... where do we go from here?"

"First," he says with a grin, "we get back to that barbecue before your dad sends out a search party." He gives you one last lingering kiss before stepping back to survey the scene. "Then we figure this out together—away from pryin’ eyes and family gatherings."

With a nod of agreement, you follow Joel out of the garage, your hand securely tucked in his. The world outside seems different now—brighter, more vibrant, as if your encounter has somehow altered your perception of reality. The sounds of laughter and music from the barbecue drift towards you, a stark contrast to the intimate silence you've just left behind.

As you approach the party, Joel gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. "We'll take this one step at a time," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the noise of the gathering. "Okay?"

You nod, grateful for his presence and his promise. Together, you reenter the party, blending seamlessly into the crowd as if nothing has changed. But everything has changed, and you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement at the secret you now share with Joel.

Throughout the afternoon, you catch each other's eyes from across the yard, exchanging knowing smiles, and subtle touches whenever possible. Your dad, none the wiser, chats happily with neighbors and friends, his laughter mingling with the sounds of summer.

As the sun begins to set, casting a warm golden glow over the neighborhood, you find yourself standing next to Joel by the grill once more. He hands you another beer, his fingers brushing against yours in a silent gesture of affection.

"So," he says, nudging you gently with his elbow, "how's that secret sauce treatin ya?"

You can't help but chuckle, the memory of your earlier exchange bringing a flush to your cheeks. "I think it's safe to say it's the best sauce I've ever had," you reply with a wink, taking a sip of your beer to hide your smile.

Joel laughs, shaking his head in amusement. "Well, I don't know about that," he teases. "I might have to give you a few more samples before you can make such a bold claim.”

But before you can retort, your dad saunters over to join you by the grill. He claps Joel on the back affectionately and turns to address both of you.

"You two look like you're up to no good," he says with a smile. "What are you plotting over here?"

Your heart skips a beat at his words—does he suspect something?—but Joel seems unfazed as he throws an arm around your dad's shoulders with brotherly affection.

"Just discussing some top-secret barbecue business," Joel replies smoothly, giving your dad a reassuring squeeze before releasing him and turning back to tend to the grill once more.

—

Eventually, as the crowd begins to thin and the night grows deeper, your dad announces that it's time to start cleaning up. You join in, helping to gather plates and cups and fold tables, all the while feeling Joel's gaze on you.

Once the last of the guests have said their goodbyes and the yard is returned to its peaceful state, your dad claps Joel on the back, thanking him for another successful barbecue. "You outdid yourself this year, Joel," he says with a smile.

Joel returns the smile, though his eyes flicker to you for a brief moment. "Always happy to host," he replies, his voice steady despite the undercurrent of emotion that passes between you two.

Your dad turns to you, his eyes tired but content. "I'm gonna head home, kiddo. You coming, or are you gonna help Joel clean up?"

You glance at Joel, who gives you a small nod, understanding the silent question in your eyes. "I'll stay and help out, Dad," you say, your voice calm and composed. "You go get some rest."

Your dad chuckles, shaking his head. "Always the responsible one, just like your mother. Alright, I'll see you in the morning."

With a final wave, your dad heads off down the street, leaving you and Joel alone under the starlit sky. The moment his figure disappears into the distance, the air between you seems to crackle with anticipation.

Joel steps closer, his eyes searching yours. "You okay?" he asks, his voice low and intimate.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, I'm good. Just... processing everything, I guess."

He reaches out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "We don't have to figure it all out tonight," he says softly. "But I want you to know what happened between us... it wasn't a one-time thing for me."

Your heart swells at his words, the warmth of his touch igniting a fire within you. "It wasn't for me, either," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, you simply stand there, lost in each other's gaze, the world around you fading into insignificance. Then, with a shared look of understanding, you both begin to tidy up the remaining mess, working side by side in comfortable silence.

When the last dish is washed and put away, and the yard is once again pristine, Joel takes your hand, leading you to the porch swing. The night is quiet now, save for the distant sound of a dog barking and the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

You sit down next to him, the swing creaking slightly under your combined weight. His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both look up at the stars.

As you sit there, nestled under Joel's arm, the stars twinkle above, casting a serene glow over the quiet neighborhood. You feel a sense of peace and contentment that you've never experienced before, a feeling of being exactly where you're meant to be.

"It's beautiful tonight," you murmur, your head resting against Joel's shoulder.

“It sure is," he agrees, his voice a soft rumble. But when you tilt your head back to look at him, you realize he's not looking at the stars. He's looking at you. His eyes trace the contours of your face, drinking in every detail as if to memorize you, to etch this moment into his memory forever. The corners of his eyes crinkle slightly, a silent indication of the smile he wears in his heart, a smile that reaches out to you, enveloping you in its embrace.

"Joel..." you begin, unsure of what to say next. There are a million thoughts swirling in your head, a million questions about what the future holds for the two of you.

He seems to sense your unease and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "We'll figure it out, sunflower," he assures you again.

You take a deep breath, letting the comforting weight of Joel's arm around you anchor you to the present moment. The uncertainty of the future looms ahead, but for now, you choose to bask in the warmth of his affection.

"I know we will," you reply.

Joel's smile is soft. "That's my girl," he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Brave and beautiful.”

The gentle sway of the porch swing and the rhythmic chorus of crickets lull you into a state of peaceful tranquility. Your eyelids grow heavy, and despite your best efforts to stay awake, you find yourself succumbing to the pull of sleep.

Joel notices your drowsy state and smiles softly, his eyes reflecting a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. "Come on, sunflower," he whispers, his voice a soothing balm to your weary senses. "Let's get you inside." With surprising gentleness, Joel scoops you up into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he stands from the swing. You let out a sleepy protest but quickly settle against him, your head resting on his shoulder as he carries you into the house.

He navigates through the darkened rooms with ease, making his way to his bedroom. He lays you down on the bed, pulling back the covers so he can tuck you in.

You watch him through half-lidded eyes as he moves around the room, turning off lights and setting an alarm for the morning. When he's satisfied that everything is in order, he begins to undress, shedding his clothes until he's standing in nothing but his boxers. The sight of him—all hard planes and toned muscles—makes your breath hitch in your throat despite your sleepy state.

Joel catches your gaze and chuckles softly. "Like what ya see?" he teases gently as he slips into bed beside you.

You nod, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and desire. "Always," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel's eyes darken at your confession, but he makes no move to act on the attraction that still crackles between you. Instead, he reaches out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "Get some sleep, sunflower," he says softly, his fingers tracing a gentle path down the side of your face.

You nod again, snuggling deeper into the covers as Joel turns off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The bed shifts slightly as he settles in beside you, the heat of his body a comforting presence in the cool room.

As you drift off to sleep, you feel Joel's arm wrap around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. His breath is warm against the nape of your neck, and he lulls you into a deep, peaceful slumber. In the quiet darkness of the night, with Joel's protective embrace surrounding you, you feel safe and cherished. The worries and uncertainties of the future fade into the background, replaced by a sense of contentment and belonging and you know this is exactly where you were meant to be.

[qveerthe0ry]

Your Ride, Best Trip

Summary: You sleep with your boyfriend Marcus for the first time Word Count: 9,001 Pairing: Marcus Pike x f! afab! reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, first time, vaginal fingering, oral (m! and f! receiving), unprotected PIV, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, so much fluff, so much kissing Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar as ALWAYS. Love you homies I'm kissing u both <3 A/N: I have nothing to say for myself this time

Marcus Pike is perfect. 

He’s your dream man. 

He’s sweet. He brings you flowers just because, and he’s remembered your go-to coffee order, and he never goes to bed without texting you goodnight.

He’s effortlessly kind. He offers to walk your dog for you when you aren’t feeling well enough to get out of bed, and he always does the dishes when you cook for him, and he makes sure his bathroom is stocked with all the personal products you use at your own place. 

He’s fucking handsome. His smile is straight and pearly white, and his big brown eyes warm you up, and the way his broad shoulders fill out those suits he wears to work never fails to make you weak in the knees. 

He’s so smart, and he’s so funny, and he’s all yours… finally. 

See, when he hadn’t so much as kissed you by your third date, you wigged out a bit. 

How could you not? He’d been so thoughtful and caring and all you wanted was to feel those pillowy, soft lips against your own. 

So you asked him what was up, and he told you.

Divorced. Broken engagement. A whole year of therapy to pinpoint what went wrong, what he could change, and how he could do better, how he could feel better. And then, he said, he found you— like fate— when he wasn’t even looking, when he least expected it. 

You had no problem taking it slow. You’re still convinced you’d wait forever for him, as perfect as he is.

After too many little dates to count, he told you he wanted to be your boyfriend, if you’d have him.

You told him you’d love for him to be your boyfriend, of course. You’d be crazy not too. 

And then he finally kissed you.

It was slow and hesitant, but it still made your heart race, made your stomach do flips. He cut it off before it could become anything more than chaste, and left your front door with a sheepish goodnight. 

You’ve kissed a lot since then. You never really enjoyed kissing that much, before. It always just seemed like a means to and end, a formality before moving on to other things. 

But now it’s one of your favorite ways to pass the time with him. Waiting for an Uber to take you downtown, finally getting to his place on Friday after a long work week, cuddling in bed together with an old movie playing.

You haven’t made out with anyone this much since high school. And you enjoy it, you do, but Jesus Christ, he’s been your boyfriend for three weeks now and you need him. 

It doesn’t help that he touches you like you’re the last person on earth. His hands are so big and they’re gentle and electric when they find the bit of skin just under the hem of your shirt. 

You think it’s going to happen, this time. Friday night takeout has long been abandoned in the living room. You’re in his bed, in his clothes, and his pinky is teasing at the waistband of his sweats that you’re wearing. 

His tongue in your mouth is making you dizzy, and there’s no more blood in your brain with all of it rushing between your legs. You whimper, and you arch against him, and you want him so bad but you can’t say it. You’d feel bad, making him rush when he’s made it clear he wants to take things slow. 

When his lips leave yours, you open your eyes, and find his pupils obstructing all the deep, dark brown you adore. 

You have to squeeze your thighs together for a miniscule amount of relief. He notices. Of course he does. Damn that Quantico training. 

“Sweetheart—”

His eyes flicker down to your lips. You’re sure they look obscene, red and slick from nearly an hour of him sucking and nibbling on them. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

You don’t know why you say it, but you are sorry. You feel so bad for wanting him like this, desperate and aching in his bed, over eager. 

“Don’t be,” he shakes his head and gives you a reluctant smile, a smile that tells you you’re going to fall asleep extremely sexually frustrated. 

But it’s fine. He’s so worth it. 

You give him a soft smile back, and lean in to peck his lips. But he pulls away with his brow furrowed. 

“What do you want?” 

His voice is gentle when he asks. So is his hand on your back, under his shirt you’ve claimed. But it doesn’t stop that fight or flight response from kicking in. 

“Nothing! Nothing, Marcus, I’m okay— I’m great. Just wanna cuddle.” 

But the creases in his forehead don’t smooth out, and his hand ceases the soothing circles across your spine. 

“You’re lying.” 

You sigh and close your eyes. 

“I’m not lying, I’m just— I don’t want to push you to move too fast.” 

You expect him to be angry. But when you open your eyes again, his own have taken on that puppy-like quality you usually love. Right now, it just makes you feel guilty. 

“I’ve been lying, too,” Marcus whispers. 

It’s your turn to scrunch your face up. Your blood runs cold, waiting for him to elaborate. A million scenarios run through your head at lighting speed— all worse and worse until your breathing picks up and you beg him with your eyes to just get on with it—

“I have a small dick.” 

His face is so flushed. He can’t meet your gaze.

He’s staring at the bedsheets between you, and you’re both just silent for a long, awkward moment. 

“I mean— the divorce and all that, it’s all true. And I did want to keep from moving too fast. But— the last few weeks I guess I’ve just been… stalling?” 

He finally looks up from the threads to gauge your reaction. 

“Marcus…”

“I get it, okay? If you wanna go. I know I lied, and you didn’t sign up for—“

“Marcus.”

You watch his shoulders raise and his mouth snap shut, and he looks terrified.

“I don’t want to leave. You didn’t lie. It’s just— you really think that would bother me?” 

He lets out a big breath, and the tension in his body eases up a little. 

“I don’t know. Most people were… bothered. I guess,” he shrugs. 

You cradle his jaw in your hand, let the day-old stubble tickle the pad of your thumb as you think about how to best navigate this conversation. 

Because saying ‘I don’t care’ seems too dismissive. But you don’t. You couldn’t possibly care less about what’s in his pants, when everything else about him has made you fall so, so deep already. But you don’t want to make it sound like it’s something you have to even bargain with, like the pros outweigh the cons, like it even is a con. Because it’s not. 

“I’m not bothered,” you finally tell him. 

He still doesn’t meet your eyes, in fact, he rolls his. 

“You don’t have to lie to me. It’s okay, I’ve heard it all. I know I’ve lead you on—”

“Jesus,” you cut him off, “what did— who made you feel this way?” 

He finally looks at you. His eyes are wide and he looks vulnerable and hesitant. You swipe away some hair that’s fallen flat across his scrunched forehead. 

“Everyone?” 

You sigh his name, and you’re tentative when you lean forward to kiss him, softly, when he lets you. 

He looks less terrified when you pull back. You try to smile, but this whole interaction has left such a bad taste in your mouth that it feels more like a grimace when your lips turn up. 

“That’s— Fucking awful, to be frank. Pardon my French.”

He chuckles, but his gaze falls away from your face again. His sheets are not that interesting to look at. 

“Really, Marcus. I mean— maybe if someone’s just looking for a hookup, then I get it. You want something specific, whatever. But why would you ever think you were leading me on?

All you’ve done is be sweet to me, and shown interest in me, and taken care of me. Unless you’re like, secretly an ax murderer, or committing some kind of major tax fraud, you haven’t led me on at all.”

He’s still not looking at you. Why won’t he look at you, and believe you? 

“I don’t want to sound dismissive. I understand you’re insecure about it. I’m insecure about some things too. I don’t want to invalidate that. But I need you to know that the last thing I care about is how big your dick is.” 

There. He’s looking at you. He looks a little mortified, but he’s finally meeting your gaze. 

“Really?”

You scoff. 

“Really really.”

A reluctant smile tugs on the corner of his pretty mouth. 

“Why?”

“Because— now, don’t go getting a big head about this— you’re perfect. Like, everything about you. You’re sweet and you make me laugh and you’re gorgeous.”

His face flushes, but he lets you continue.

“And I’m in this, with you. I want this to go somewhere. And I think we’re super compatible.”

“Me too,” he whispers.

“Good, so… we’re on the same page then.”

You watch him lick his lips, and his hand that’s been loosely draped over your waist finally starts back up, drawing little circles across the base of your spine. 

“And… There’s other reasons,” you mumble, voice low with a hint of mischief.

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah… For one, your hands.”

“My hands?”

He emphasizes his question with a squeeze of your hip, and you giggle at the way it tickles, and also with a bit of embarrassment. 

“Yeah… They’re uh… big. I look at them a lot. Honestly surprised you haven’t noticed.”

He huffs, lets his big hand travel further up the shirt on your back. 

“Your nails are always trimmed, and— your fingers are long and thick. I’ve thought about them a lot.”

He breathes your name, and now you realize you’re the one avoiding eye contact. When you look back, his pupils are all blown out again, and it spurs you on.

“And I love to give head.”

“Jesus.”

“And the bigger it is, the quicker I get tired. I could stay down there all night, if my jaw didn’t get sore.” 

“Sweetheart—”

“Really, it’s one of my favorite things, making someone fall apart under my mouth. But I hate gagging and choking my way through it. It’s tedious.”

He says your name again, this time with a warning tone. 

You bite your lip to keep anything from tumbling from your mouth unwarranted. 

“You’re not lying.”

His eyes dart back and forth across your face, and you shake your head in lieu of opening your mouth again. 

“Fuck.”

It’s the first time Marcus has cursed in front of you. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and your clit throbs. 

“I’ve thought about you so much. Your lips, you have to know, right? How plump and full they are… I think about them at night, when I’m touching myself.” 

That’s convincing enough, apparently. Before you can embarrass yourself any further with your confessions, he surges forward to press those plush lips against yours and groans into your mouth. 

His hand flattens against your back and pulls, manhandling you closer to him. Your fingers find his silky hair and tangle in the strands, holding on for dear life at this shift between the two of you. 

You can’t muster up an ounce of shame. Finally, you have Marcus where you want him, pressed against you. You hike a leg over one of his, getting it between your thighs for even the smallest amount of friction. 

You feel him gasp, chest inflating to press even closer against yours. It’s a rush, finally getting this after waiting so long. 

Your hands scramble to get under his white t-shirt. His skin is hot, even against your sweaty palms. There’s so much to feel, the slight swell of his stomach, and the muscle of his flank, the soft but firm pecs. 

You whine when he pulls away from your lips. He shushes you gently, and you open your eyes to watch his slick lips and his hooded eyes and flushed face disappear briefly, just quick enough to shed his shirt. 

Smooth, is the first thing that comes to mind. His tan skin has no hair above his belly button, just the errant freckle here and there. His nipples are peaked, and you reach out to press your thumb against one before your mind catches up to the action, before you realize you’re gawking. 

But when your hand stutters against his skin and you look up at him, he’s smirking, amused and turned on. You falter a bit, mouth open while you search for something to say, some sort of excuse as to why you’re devouring him like you’re starved. 

He saves you though, with his low, grumbled voice. 

“I think about you, too. All the time.” 

You dig your nails into his soft skin at his admission, scraping against his chest. 

“You know that? You think I haven’t had you a million different ways in my head?” 

Your heart stops beating, and you stop breathing, and the heat between your legs only gets heavier and wetter. 

“You want me to show you, sweetheart?”

Your heartbeat comes back as a rush in your ears, and you squeeze the meat of his pec as you nod. 

He kisses you again, licks at your lips until you suck his tongue into your mouth, and now it’s just filthy. No more pretense, it’s been months of pretense, and neither of you have any more patience. 

His fingers seek out your own nipple, a tight bud protruding through cloth, and he rolls it between his fingers gently over the material of his shirt. 

“You come over and wear my clothes like this, and you think you don’t drive me crazy?” 

The words are grumbled into your mouth, against your cheek, then your jaw and your neck as he seeks out more of you to kiss. 

“I don’t wash them when you leave. I wear them and I smell you all day and it makes me feel insane.”

You mewl at his admission. Everything he says now is so fucking raw, now that you’ve broken down his walls. He shushes you again, grabs the hem of his shirt to help you pull it over your head. 

He curses when he sees you. It’s the first time. You’ve both been toeing this line of modesty, and maybe you’d be more nervous if you weren’t careening toward the pleasure he’s promised you. 

He coaxes you to lie on your back beside him, and his mouth works a slow trail down the side of your neck, nipping and suckling until he finally gets your nipple in his mouth. You arch into it, encouraging him with a hand tangled in his thick hair. You feel his groan reverberating around your rib cage when you scrape your nails back and forth across his scalp. You need him, like nothing you’ve ever craved before. 

“Marcus—”

“I know, I know.”

His syrupy voice isn’t as soothing as his lips, though, when he cranes his neck back up to kiss you again. He nips there, a sneaky distraction from the way his fingers trail down to circle your navel, and then even farther, teasing the hem of his sweatpants you’re wearing. His featherlight touch makes you jolt when it finally registers, your stomach jumping under his fingers. 

“Can I?”

You’re nodding against his lips, into the kiss, and then whining when his hand breaches the waistband. Those thick, long fingers flutter across your mound. Your breath catches on every wiggle. But when his fingers splay out, half on one side of your slit and half on the other, teasing your lips, you exhale hard and press up into his touch. 

“Oh, are you that sensitive?”

His voice is half-teasing, half-shocked, as he mumbles into the tingling skin of your neck. 

“It’s just you.” 

And it’s true. There’s no ego-stroking here. You’ve waited too long to get this and now you’re fiending, any touch is a relief. 

And he’s huffing into that skin under your ear, like you’re playing it up too much, but he bites down on the skin anyway and groans. 

“So sweet, huh?”

You make a disgruntled noise but there’s not enough blood in your brain to get your point across. Instead, you wrap your hand around his meaty forearm and force his fingers lower, where you know your underwear is a soaking, sticky mess. 

He curses and pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. You’re certain you know what he sees, blown out pupils and sweat-slick forehead and bitten, shiny lips. 

“That’s all for me?” 

There’s a sly smile tugging at one side of his mouth, just barely there, but you see it in the way one dimple grows more than the other. You nod in answer, scrape your nails up the hair on his arm and watch him shudder.

But he retreats from between your legs, and chuckles when you squeeze his forearm tighter in protest. The sound makes you shiver, all low and gruff and teasing. But he softens the blow with another one of his kisses, heated and sloppy and needy. His hands, always so gentle and careful and big, find the creases between your hips and thighs. It makes you arch up into the touch and whimper again, and you wonder briefly if you’ll ever not be desperate for him again. 

He watches your face twist up when he pulls away from you, watches the way your breasts move with every heave of your lungs. His dark eyes travel lower, where his thumbs sear circles into your hips, and his tongue swipes across his lower lip. 

“Can I take these off, sweetheart?” 

The tenderness in his voice fills you with a completely different warmth, white hot flames simmering into a blaze of feelings you aren’t sure you’ve ever truly experienced before. You let it consume you. 

“Yes, please.”

He hums a satisfied little noise as his fingers hook under the waistband. He takes his time, making sure to catch your underwear as well. It’s a sight, his huge hands working your only remaining cover down, down, until you’re bare to him and he’s gently cradling each of your calves to fully remove the last of your clothes. 

Those hands work their way back up, attentive, memorizing the valleys and peaks of your flesh, the nuances of your skin, the way it bends over your joints. Before you know it, he’s propped himself up beside you once again, one arm supporting his weight so his other hand can work its way between your thighs. 

You drag your eyes away from his fingers to look at him, only to find him focused on your face. 

It’s a few long moments before either of you move or speak or breathe. It’s you who breaks the spell, only because you know you’re at the very edge of control. 

“You sure you’re ready?”

You reach up to cradle his neck in your hand. It’s hot to the touch, and so are his ears, the tips of them burning a cute pink where your thumb grazes them. His eyes get softer and crinkle even more around the edges.

“I’m positive… can’t believe I psyched myself out for so long.”

He huffs and shakes his head at himself. You’re ready to kiss that apprehension away again, but his hand on your thigh pulls, as gentle as everything else he’s done, to spread yourself open for him. 

The cool air makes your breath catch in your throat. Or maybe it’s the anticipation. So close to what you’ve thought about every single night for weeks. Months– since the day you first met, if you’re being honest. 

He keeps his eyes on you, and you hold his gaze even though it burns. But only until his fingers brush you. Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling, mouth open wide in shock at how electric just one simple touch feels. 

His finger glides so easily around your opening, and you hear him gasp as he explores all the slick.

“You’re soaked.” 

His voice is thick with awe, as another finger joins in on the fun, gathering up your arousal. But they don’t breach, and you feel like he’s teasing, readying a whine in protest. 

The noise gets stuck in your throat when they trail up, gliding through your swollen folds. They find your clit, full and begging for attention, and circle with hardly any pressure. 

Oh, he’s fucking good at this. 

There’s no apprehension in his movements. It’s like he’s read a fucking manual on how to press all your buttons. The light, slick touches are building up that heat in your gut quicker than you can ever remember with anyone else. 

You’re stunned silent, eyes pinched shut and your head tilted back into the mattress, digging in for even an ounce of grounding. 

“That feel good, sweetheart?”

Your vocal chords come back to life, finally, as you whimper from the gentle drag of his fingers. 

“You have no idea.”

He chuckles, and you open your eyes to see his own still trained on your face. 

“I think I do,” he mumbles.

He shifts, presses his hips into you, and the hard line of him digs into your side. 

You clench around nothing, and your clit pulses under the pads of his fingers. He curses and responds to the needy little bud, applying more pressure and speeding up those little circles. 

All the while he grinds his hips into you, soft little movements that sync up with his hand, and you want him so bad. You’re losing patience by the second, the only thing keeping you from pouncing is the way his fingers work you over so perfectly it’s like you’re touching yourself. 

You’re not, though, and that becomes perfectly clear when one thick, long finger presses lower and slips into you. It slides so easily, despite how much girth it has on one of your own. You both make stuttered noises at the feeling, and Marcus’ lips capture your own to let them mingle together. 

Your hips egg him on, lifting and shifting, but he is teasing now. It’s a slow drag in and out, his finger pin straight, and if he hadn’t been so diligent this entire time you’d think he didn’t know what he was doing. 

But you whine, a soft plea of his name into his mouth, and he obliges. That thick finger crooks up, just as the heel of his hand flattens against your clit, and stars bloom behind your eyelids. 

You groan, and he laps it up before his lips leave yours. 

“That’s it. This what you needed?”

A pathetic whimper comes out in response as you nod your head. His finger presses harder into that perfect spot, and his palm slides over your wet clit. You’re clenching around him, savoring the feeling of being filled by him, working your hips down and back to meet his motions. It grows and grows, that feeling in your gut, so close that you can’t be bothered to worry about what needy noises you’re making.

He mutters another frantic curse, and his hips jump to press his cock into you harder. 

“I gotta taste you, sweetheart. Can I? Will you let me?” 

You nod so fast you’re surprised your head doesn’t detach from your neck. He soothes that frenzied part of your brain with another kiss, slips his finger out of you, and moves to get between your legs. 

You thread your fingers through his hair to keep him still, even if it’s just for a moment. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and the drag of his sweatpants across your sensitive center makes you arch up into him for more, to seek out more friction. 

He just huffs a laugh against your lips and angles his hips away, denying you the simple pleasure of grinding against the tent in his pants. 

“Not yet. Let me take my time with you. You’ve waited so long, right? I’ll make it up to you, you just gotta let me.” 

You huff. 

You should’ve known Marcus would be just as much of an infuriating tease in the bedroom as he is outside of it. The trivia dates and the cocky smirk he always sported when he won, the little bets he’d make on how a movie’s plot was going to twist, the refusal to ever let you pay for dinner— it’s all adding up now, and you can’t believe you didn’t expect it. 

Marcus Pike is a smug little prick underneath the humble, sheepish grins, and it’s hot and it’s yours. 

“Put your money where your mouth is,” you breathe. 

He chuckles and trails said mouth down the length of your naked body. You watch his plump lips explore your skin and leave wet patches littered in their wake, shiny little stakes claiming you. His five o’clock shadow is just long enough to abrade your skin a bit, delightful little pricks that make your muscles jump involuntarily.

He makes it to your mound before looking up at you. His brown eyes are mostly obstructed by his pupils, but they shine all glassy in the dim lamplight of his bedroom. His shitty grin has faded and he looks determined, and it steals the breath from your lungs. 

He teases some more, of course he does. His lips peck and tickle the creases of your thighs, the skin of your outer lips, and the very tip of your hood before you finally see his pink tongue slip out. 

All of a sudden you can’t watch, can only let your head fall back and close your eyes and drown in the anticipation. 

The pointed tip of his tongue just barely grazes you, tracing a razor-thin line from your dripping hole all the way to your mound. It tickles, and your breath comes in faster as he does it again, and again, and again. 

Just before you can beg for more, he flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit. He laps at your folds, slow and calculated, and the satisfied noises tumble out of you as you feel his taste buds glide against you. 

All you can think to do is find his hair and use it to hang on. Your legs spread wider, and he takes the encouragement. His tongue finds your clit, so swollen and sensitive with need by now. He circles it, then wiggles his tongue back and forth, playing with it, playing with you. He shakes his head from side to side to give you more, presses even more firmly, and the heavy feeling in your gut tightens tenfold. 

Your hips start to move on their own, rocking up into his face, helping his motions along. He groans with it, muffled and wet between your legs. 

A delirious thought gets stuck in your horny brain. You don’t know how you’ll ever let him leave this spot between your legs now that you’ve finally got him here. It’s so wet and warm and incredible, and your nails dig into his scalp to drive the point home, to try and lock him here forever. 

His voice snaps you from your reverent thoughts, thick and deep. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. You taste so good, looks so fucking pretty.” 

You brave a glance down at him, his red soaked mouth and his dark eyes that are boring holes into your pussy. One of his hands releases its grip on your thigh to glide across the dripping mess of your center. He toys with you, spreading you open with splayed fingers, watching the way your folds bend to his whim. With it exposed and protruding and aching for his touch, he leans down to wrap his plush lips around your clit and suckle. Curses fly from your lips at the concentrated attention, and it’s so so so fucking good you’re sure you’re going combust. 

His hand slips lower, and his mouth doesn’t stop, and you’re dangerously close to tipping over the edge. And then two thick fingers slip easily into you, immediately seeking out that spot inside you and tapping there. 

It’s blinding pressure overwhelming the two places you need him most. He drums up a rhythm that would remind you of a dance, maybe, if your brain were cognitive enough to form a coherent thought. Down with his head, engulfing your clit, and up with his fingers, squeezing that spongy spot inside you. Over and over, he works you with soft grunts against your cunt until your fingers lock up in his hair and your hips start to shake. 

“Please don’t stop,” you pant, “I’m so close.” 

To his credit, and this is more than you can say for the majority of men you’ve been with, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down, nor does he speed up. He keeps at you exactly how you need it, moaning strung-out little noises into your center until you’re dropping. 

All the wind is knocked out of you. Your hips jolt into his face and he takes it in stride, lapping at your clit when the seal of his lips is broken from your erratic movements. You tremble through it, clench around his fingers, and squeeze his head between your thighs as you ride it out on his tongue. 

As the shivers roll through you, Marcus’ fingers slow, and though he can’t remove his tongue from you because of how your legs have him in a headlock, he stills his tongue so you can take the last bit of what you need from him. 

His breathing is just as heavy as yours, wheezing out moans and muffled words of encouragement. When you feel yourself slipping down from your peak, you let go of the death grip on his hair, and open your legs, and grant yourself a few deep breaths before you dare to look down at him. 

He carefully, cautiously pulls his fingers out of you. A comforting ‘shhh’ is cooed into the sweaty skin of your thigh when you make a strangled sound. Both of his hands splay out on either hip, a light and grounding touch accompanied by the kisses he’s dropping all over the skin he can reach. 

Finally, you grant yourself a peek down at him. The first thing you notice is how his broad shoulders are, heaving with baited breath. Then, his normally pristine hair, sticking out every which way and then some from your frantic fingers. 

His face is red, you guess from exertion. Or maybe you really did restrict some blood flow. Christ. That’s what he gets, being so goddamn good at that. 

And then his lips. His lips. Those lips that up until now you’ve only ever kissed or dreamed of. They’re even more plump, swollen and slick with you, shining just like his chin is. 

You don’t know what to say. You know you want to kiss him. Funny, considering that’s how all this started, but you’re dying to see what you taste like on him. 

Luckily, he breaks the silence, after licking those delectable lips and clearing his throat. 

“So… How’d it compare?” 

Your face contorts on its own, surprised at the sudden and intrusive question. 

“Pardon?”

But then he laughs, pressing those wet dimples into your heated skin to hide them. 

“To all those thoughts you told me about. How’d I do?” 

You laugh too then, a weary huff of breath as you sit up. 

“Don’t go fishing for compliments,” you tease, though there’s not much heat behind it with how out of breath you still are. 

He goes to respond, but you get a hand in his hair again and coax him up. You meet him halfway, swallowing his surprised noise when you finally get those pillowy lips against yours and lick at them, his tongue, his teeth, until you aren’t sure what taste is you and what is him. Until you realize you’re flat on your back again as he hovers over you, still between your thighs. 

You both hum when the kiss breaks, and you rest your forehead against his, nuzzle his nose and sigh at the floaty feeling in your limbs. 

“Better,” you whisper. 

You feel his grin bump into your own. You nip at it, playful and languid as you finally begin to get some of your bearings back. 

And then you’re shocked back into the realization that there’s all this smooth skin right in front of you, this hunk of a man hovering above, the one who just melted your brain into a fuzzy little mold of itself. You grab his hips as he licks into your mouth and scrape your nails up his flanks, unhurried, while the touch makes him shiver. 

You feel out the strength in his pecs, those broad shoulders you often daydream about, and then you push. Catching him off guard, he gasps as he loses his balance and tumbles to the side, and then laughs when you press him into the mattress and straddle his hips. 

You laugh along with him, but it slowly tapers off as his hands find your naked skin— your stomach and hips and back and then your ass, where it hovers just above that bulge in his sweatpants. 

He’s looking up at you with what you can only describe as horny apprehension. 

His eyelids droop over his dilated pupils, but his brow is all pinched up in the middle. His mouth hangs open, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. 

So you kiss him, soft and gentle, as gentle as he’s been with you all night. His sigh washes heat across your cheeks, and you feel him relax under you just a little. 

But then you shift in his grasp, lower your ass, and press your soaking center to his crotch. You whimper at the feeling of his sweatpants dragging across your sensitive, wet cunt. He moans and bites at your bottom lip maybe a little too hard. 

But it’s okay. He pulls away and pants your name and you settle there, your weight pressed down on his cock. Your lips find that smooth patch in his stubble, biting that chiseled jaw, licking down the curve of his neck, his shoulder, up to his ear. You delight in every goosebump you draw, and breathe in his scent before you speak up. 

“Will you let me suck it?” 

All his breath rushes out in a big gust. His fingertips dig into your naked sides, and he nods. 

“Please.” 

It’s a barely-there whisper. You pull away from that silky soft skin where his pulse is hammering to check his reaction. 

He’s begging with his eyes. It makes you smirk, sitting up straighter, trailing your fingers down the front of his body until you reach the drawstring of his sweatpants. 

You’re still sitting on his groin, though. You give a little playful wiggle, and his hips rock up to grind harder. But you don’t want to tease any more. Every moment spent teasing him, you’re also denying yourself, and you’ve been patient for long enough. 

So you shift down the bed, nestled between his legs, and get to work on the tie of his pants. Every time your fingertips brush the hair below his belly button, he sucks in a breath. You finally get the thing untied, and look up one last time for permission before you start to drag the material down, grabbing his boxers as you go. 

Your eyes stay trained on his face instead of staring at his crotch, especially as he wiggles a bit and lifts his legs to remove his pants. You don’t want to stare, and you also don’t want to not look, you don’t want him to be uncomfortable at all with you. 

You want it to be perfect. You want to make him feel the way he makes you feel. 

He nods his head, and you cease averting your eyes to trail down his body, the bushy happy trail and the neatly trimmed hair above his cock and his cock. 

His little cock. 

It is, indeed, on the smaller side. Probably one of the smallest you’ve seen in real life. Three and half or four inches long, if you had to guess. 

And it’s so pretty, cut and on the thicker side, the slightest upward curve that makes your pussy tighten around nothing. 

You dive right in, press your nose to all the hair while you kiss at the base of him, humming when his cock twitches against the side of your face. He smells so good and clean, like always, but down here there’s even more of that Marcus smell that always lingers beneath his soap and cologne, salty and warm.

When you drag your eyes up to him, his head’s thrown back against the pillows, not looking at you. You want him to look, you want him to see how much you’re going to enjoy this. 

You’ll make him look, one way or another. 

For now, you just lathe your tongue up the underside of him, then back down to tickle his balls, all the while enjoying how his prick jerks under the attention. 

He’s making little noises, mostly puffs of breath and gasps, and his hands twist up in the sheets beside you. You grab one of them, slow and steady, and lead it to the back of your head. 

And then, you finally get your lips wrapped around the head of his dick, and you slowly sink down until he’s entirely in your mouth. 

It’s not until your nose presses against the flatness above his cock do you hear him release a strangled groan. That’s when you look back up at him and find him staring down, mouth agape, locked on your mouthful of him. 

You pull back up, wiggling your tongue as you go, memorizing the ridges and hairs and veins. Your eyes are locked on his, and his are locked on your lips, so you try to give him a show. 

You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, nod your head up and down to let his cockhead tickle your tastebuds. A gruff noise leaves him, hearty and hoarse, and you want to smile but you’re not in a position to. 

Instead, you flick your tongue against that little band of tissue just under his slit, and his hips stutter as his grip on the back of your head tightens. 

“Fuck, sweetheart.”

Now you do smile, your lips upturned against the head of his cock, and it jerks against your mouth while you kiss it, until you envelop it once more. 

You hum around him, at the weighted feeling of him occupying your mouth, how smooth it feels against your tongue and how nice it is to take him all the way in and not gag or choke or drool. 

It makes your cunt ache, makes you crave him even more, makes you want to be full of him everywhere. 

You reach a hand down to touch yourself. You’re still dripping, can feel it all slipping from your entrance and cooling your skin in the air conditioning. You’ve had just enough time to recover from the mess Marcus made of you. You’re sensitive but not too sensitive, when you trace your clit with your fingertips and moan around the mouthful of cock. 

“Oh fuck, are you touching yourself?”

Your eyes flicker open and look up to him. He’s clenching his jaw, grinding his teeth as his nostrils flare. You hum and nod your head to answer, his cock slipping back and forth through the ring of your lips. He whimpers, and his head tips back against the mattress again, and it makes you speed up the efforts on both him and yourself. 

He curses, soft little chants, kneading the back of your neck in his big hand as you suck him in over and over. You close your eyes and lose yourself in it for a bit, the way he slips so easily in and out, the way his hips move just a little, like he’s trying not to but he can’t help it. The sounds, his grunts and your sloppy mouth and your fingers working over your slick folds. 

He says your name. 

You hum, use your free hand to play with the fuzzy skin of his balls. 

He says your name again, and this time it’s urgent, almost panicked. 

“Sweetheart, stop, please.”

You do, immediately. You open your mouth wide and let him fall from your lips and unhand him while you look at his exerted face. 

“Are you okay?”

He huffs, and his cock bobs beside your face. 

“I’m so okay. I just— did you want me to…? It’s okay if you don’t, I just didn’t want it to be over—”

“Marcus.” 

His heated babbling stops as he clamps his mouth shut. His broad shoulders lift and drop with his heading breath.

“Do you want to fuck me?” 

You smooth your hands across the scattered hair on his thighs when you ask. His prick twitches again at your question. 

“I— Yeah. Yes. I do.”

He looks almost guilty about it, with his wide eyes and the bashful expression spreading across his face. 

“I want you to fuck me so bad,” you tell him, “I’ve wanted it for way too long.”

His breath leaves him in a shuddery exhale, something like relief or awe. 

“Yeah? You still want it?” 

His hand skates from the back of your neck to your jaw, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek. 

“Please, Marcus. Give it to me.” 

You turn your head to kiss his thumb, a sloppy little peck before you take it into your mouth. You smile around it when he groans, and bite it before it slips away. 

“Can you get on the edge of the bed for me?” 

You can, but not without throwing a cheeky ‘yes sir’ his way. You’re not sure if the noise he makes is from arousal or a lack of  amusement, but there will be plenty of time to explore that later. 

For now, you do as he says. You scoot so your ass is just about to fall off the side of his bed. The wooden bed frame is the perfect height to rest your heels on, and as Marcus slips a pillow under your head, you’re as comfortable as ever.

The mattress dips when he gets up to stand in front of you. The lamplight from the nightstand is really doing things for him. The slight sheen of sweat on his chest glistens, as does the wetness at his temples where his hair is starting to curl up. All those lean muscles have never been more apparent than they are now, the golden glow creating beautiful shadows across his naked body. 

He’s so hot. 

It doesn’t help that his big, warm hands snake up your bare thighs as he gets between them. His small dick stands at attention, pointing toward the ceiling, and you feel your pussy spasm with anticipation. 

“Please,” you whisper. 

He nods, steps closer as you spread your legs wider and wiggle even further off the bed. 

“Perfect, sweetheart.”

He leans over you with one hand on the bed to brace himself. The other is wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, and he looks down to watch it as he glides it through your slit. 

“Are you ready?”

You nod and hum your affirmative. He takes the go-ahead and his cockhead slides across your clit, down, so slowly, until it catches on the rim of your hole and you both gasp at the feeling. 

You look down to watch too, lifting up on your elbows to see the moment your pussy lets him sink inside, fluttering around him, engulfing his prick one inch at a time. 

You knew it. You fucking knew his cock was perfect but still you’re shocked at the way the curve makes him drag across your upper wall. And when his hips are flush with yours, all that pressure is concentrated at that bundle of nerve endings inside of you, and you’re going to lose your mind if he doesn’t move.

“Oh fuck.”

You let yourself flop back in the bed, but reach for his hand that’s supporting his weight. Your nails scrabble for purchase against the skin of his wrist as you curse again, your walls contracting around him as you tense. 

“Fuck, Marcus, please.”

You’re so far past caring about how desperate you sound. You need him, the textbook definition of it; it’s an absolute necessity that he fucks you. 

He curses, and you realize you’ve closed your eyes. When you open them, his jaw is hanging and he’s looking at you, your face, like it’s something he’s never seen before. Like he’s shocked you’re here in front of him. 

But his hips are still, and you’re helpless to the way your own cant up to urge him, and finally he’s pulling back out. The slow drag against the most tender spot inside you rips a noise from your throat, involuntary. He pulls almost all the way out, until the head of his dick is kissing your opening and you can feel how he stretches the tight ring of muscles. 

And then in again, almost as slowly, and you’re already out of breath. The feeling steals all the wind from your lungs. It’s setting you on fire, perfect friction against just the right spot, the one that’s still tender and alight from your previous orgasm. 

“It’s so fucking good,” you manage to choke out. 

Marcus moans above you, and his hips snap into you, and his free hand finds your waist so he can dig his nails into your flesh. 

“It is, fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking good.”

A bead of sweat drips from his nose and lands on your belly, and that seems to make you snap out of it. 

“Fuck me. Fuck me hard, please, make me come.”

You watch his mouth quirk up into a pretty smirk, dimples on full display. 

“Yes ma’am.”

Your giggles only last for a moment, dissolving into a high whine when he slides out of you and back in, a harsh thrust of his hips that doesn’t let up. 

He fucks you. You try to watch; it’s too hot not to. His biceps flex respectively, one with his effort to hold himself above you, and the other where he holds you in place by your waist. 

His neck, the one vein there that’s protruding as he bares his teeth. The way his chest is rapidly rising and falling as he drives into you. His big brown eyes, even darker now as he succumbs to the feeling of you. 

But you just can’t keep your eyes open for long. It feels too good, you’re too close to the edge. Your insides are so tender and alight from the first time you came. Every single thrust inside you is taking you apart and building your second so quickly. Your eyelids droop closed and there’s already stars blooming behind them. 

His little noises are louder, like this. Grunts and gasps and moans, falling over you, all for you. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you warn him.

Your back arches to encourage his pace. His skin slaps into yours faster as he groans.

“Thank god, me too. What do you need, sweetheart?” 

Without a verbal answer to his strained question, you slip your hand down to press against your throbbing clit. 

“Shit, yeah, play with your pussy for me. I wanna— fuck— let me see you come. Looks so gorgeous.”

His voice is thick in his throat, and you work your fingers over yourself faster. You’re clenching wildly around him, you can’t help it. Every thrust in sets your nerves on fire, almost too much, but not quite. His grunts are turning into growls, uninhibited and primal. You feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to find him standing up straight. 

Both hands grab your hips now, and that little angle change makes him grind even harder into your g-spot, and you’re tumbling over the edge. It’s been building under the surface for so long that when it hits, it’s blinding. There’s static in your toes that washes over you, up, up, dragging a fiery heat with it that consumes your center and makes your head fuzzy. 

There’s screaming. 

You’re screaming. Your eyes are clenched so tight, as are your fingers, all your joints, your pussy, around Marcus as he fucks you through it with sloppy thrusts. 

“That’s it, oh my god, sweetheart, you— fuck. I’m gonna come, I’m— where?”

“In me.”

Your throat is scratchy when you answer, and you don’t have any time to elaborate on why that’s not a bad idea. You’re still coming, wave after wave of warmth rolling across your body, and you’re vaguely aware of how wet everything is, the sound of him fucking you even more obscene. 

His shout doesn’t quite rival yours, but you feel it when he empties inside of you. His cock jerks and and twitches, wringing out every little bit of pleasure from you, and you think you’re still coming, the pinpricks of pleasure are still too intense to be aftershocks. 

He stays pressed as deep as he can be as his stomach convulses and his thighs shake, just like yours do where they’ve somehow wrapped around him. Your eyes open again, and the lamplight is so bright now, his breathing is so loud. He grunts and pulls out a bit, then presses back in, and again, until it falters and his whole body slumps. 

His top half collapses onto you, his little breaths huff and tickle the tingling skin of your belly. Your own breath comes out in a weak moan, and it takes all the strength you can muster just to run your fingers through his sweaty hair. 

“Jesus,” he says.

Your name cascading off his lips in such a strung out voice that it makes you clench around him again. 

“Huh?” 

God, how are you ever going to move again? 

“You uh… Is that a common occurrence?”

Christ, why is he using such big words? 

“What are you talking about?” 

He clears his throat. 

“You like— You squirted?”

You laugh, one delirious huff. It makes his head rock on your jiggling belly. 

“I what?”

You gather the will to look down at him. His mouth is open, surprised and amused, and his eyes are shiny and bright. 

“Yeah, like, a lot.”

He’s still inside you but softening, and his own chuckles make him slip out. 

You lift up on your elbows as he stands up straight and the evidence is clear. The hair above his dick and high on his thighs is all dark and soaked. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

The sheets on the edge of the bed are absolutely ruined, and you pray he’s one of those men that has a mattress protector. You’re more than a little mortified, and the way he’s staring at you, silent, is beginning to make you squirmy.

“What?” 

“Why do you seem so surprised?”

His fingertips are feather-light across your thighs, and you shiver. 

“I’ve never actually… done that? I would have warned you.”

He makes a pained sound, and those fingertips turn into a tight grip just above your knees. 

He doesn’t speak up. Instead, he lies on the bed beside you. He holds himself by his elbow, but that hand strokes your scalp while the other traces up and down your thigh, your hips, your breasts, anything he can reach. You avoid the topic at hand to relax into it, and you think you’re finally coming down as that boneless feeling washes over you. 

You’re vaguely aware of his cum dripping out of you, but the sheets are a lost cause anyway. You just watch his lax face, the way the wrinkles in his brow are all smoothed out, the way his eyes follow the patterns he’s drawing on your body. 

He catches you staring. His gaze meets yours and he smiles and it’s sunny. It warms you through, despite all the sweat that’s cooling on your body. 

“Hi,” he whispers. 

You giggle, and he does too. He tries to hold it in by biting his lip, but it’s no use. You will your exhausted bones to shift and face him, and he presses his lips to yours and they meld together.

It’s languid, unhurried, just reacquainting after too long apart. It feels a little goofy, with how you’re both smiling so wide, but it calms you into settling down after such a high. 

Both of your breathing seems even, when you part. 

“That was—”

“It’s never—”

You both chuckle. 

“Ladies first.”

You feel shy now. You can’t imagine why, but a fluttery feeling overtakes your stomach. 

“I was just gonna say… That was better than all those times I imagined it.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but his smile grows even wider. His eyes flicker from yours to the sheets between you, and you think maybe he feels as bashful as you do. 

“It’s never been that good.”

A sigh escapes him when he speaks, and his nervous gaze lands on you when his face falls into something more earnest. 

It takes your breath away. Because it’s never been that good for you either, and isn’t that such a perfect coincidence?

You tug him to you by the back of his neck, eat up the surprised little sound he makes against your mouth. 

“When can we go again?”

[bluesylveon2]

Ortho vs a Teenage Girl and a 5-year-old Prince

Summary: When Ortho's hard work of trying to set up the Prefect with his brother is about to go down the drain by two kids. Disaster ensues! initial post

Notes: This is my first time writng for Twisted Wonderland so I hope that you enjoy! I used Yuu but this can be read as a x Reader too! Yuu/reader is a female!

Word Count: 4835

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

Warnings: possible ooc characters, not beta read, slight book 6 spoilers, references to the yasamina and sunset savanna events, irl references, Lilia wanting to be a grandpa, and some alcohol mentioned (Papa Crewel drinking wine)

Edit 7/31: sequel announcement post here! Now with Lilia vs Eric Venue, Marja, and Dylla!!

Family Day is the one day in Night Raven College when families are invited to tour the campus or visit their loved ones. The event itself was big since most students come from well-off families. However, sometimes some parents were too busy to show up, which was okay. One example is Idia and Ortho's parents. Both siblings didn't mind them not showing up. Idia preferred playing video games in his room but not Ortho. Ortho had a different plan involving the Ramshackle Prefect, Yuu. The Prefect has to be the toughest girl Ortho has ever met. Ortho has never met a girl who can defeat six overblots (one of them was his brother), wrangle a cat monster, and deal with Crowley's (bs) demanding jobs. 

Now Ortho was not dumb. He might be more human-like, but he could sense how much his brother's heart races when the Prefect talks to him or how his hair turns slightly pink when they play video games together. Ortho thinks Idia's feelings towards the Prefect grew after she and a few others broke into the Island of Woe to save their friends. Sadly, Idia has never acted on his feelings and prefers to stay on the sidelines and admire Yuu from afar. 

On the other hand, Ortho was not having it. He can see just how happy his brother is around Yuu. Plus, Ortho would gladly accept her as his sister-in-law. It's like hitting two birds with one stone!

Ortho made it his mission to mention his brother whenever he hung out with the Prefect. It can range from "Big Brother made a new invention" or "Big Brother wants to play a new game with you!" If Ortho can have some of Idia's friends play video games with him, he can surely set Yuu up with his brother. 

Of course, the Fates must have heard him and introduced two rivals during the school's annual Family Day. 

Who are his rivals? A teenage girl and a 5-year-old prince. 

---

Rival 1: Najma Viper

Ortho hummed as he glided down the hall of different families, searching for the Prefect. Luckily he had the whole day to put his plan in motion since his parents could not attend today's event, and Idia stayed in his room. According to Ace, who took Grim so they could prank his older brother, Yuu was handling different errands assigned by Crowley for Family Day. What would be the perfect way to spend Family Day with a (potential) sister by helping her and inviting her over to hang out with his Big Brother?

Ortho turned around a corner but stopped when he saw the Prefect occupied with a young girl. He moved closer to get a better look. 

"Jamil is very talented. He is smart, can cook, sing, and is a great dancer! You should see how happy he gets when he dances. He is the perfect guy!" The girl exclaimed with excitement in her eyes. 

Ortho froze. Jamil? The perfect guy? What in the Twisted Wonderland was going on here? He had a bad feeling about this. 

"He would be a great boyfriend for you. You should've seen how he kept staring at you when you visited the Scalding Sands," the girl adds, causing Yuu to blush. 

Ortho felt as if Tartarus froze over. "NO!" He suddenly yelled and flew out of his hiding spot.

Yuu and the other girl turn to Ortho. 

"No?" 

"I mean, no way! Jamil is so cool!" Ortho said in an attempt to save himself. Yuu and the girl both smile, causing Ortho to kick himself internally. He should be hyping his brother up, not Jamil! Ortho turned to the other girl. "I'm sorry. Let me introduce myself. Hi, I'm Ortho Shroud, a first-year, and Yuu's friend," he extended a hand to her. 

The girl shook his hand and had a pleasant smile on her face. "Hi Ortho, I'm Jamil's sister, Najma." Najma seemed kind, but Ortho was not buying it. If Ortho knew anything about Jamil, Najma must be good at hiding her true feelings. "Say, Ortho, since you seem to know my brother, would you agree that he is talented?"

"I guess I can agree with you there," Ortho said while reflecting on Jamil's performance at the VDC.

Najma's eyes furrow slightly, "You guess?" She turned to Yuu, "What do you think, Yuu? Don't you think that he is talented? Or handsome? Or both?" she smirked.

Yuu hesitantly laughed, "Well-" her eyes scanned the hall until she spotted a familiar mop of white hair. "Kalim!"

Kalim turned to the trio and smiled brightly, "Yuu! Najma! Ortho! What are you all doing here?"

"Just catching up," Najma replied instantly and turned to Kalim with a devious look, "Say, Kalim, what do you think are my brother's best features?

Kalim hummed in thought before responding. "Well, he is a good dancer, can cook, and is very strong! He once told me he is as strong as ten men!" 

"Whoa," Yuu replied with awe, and Najma smiled proudly. 

"Give Big Brother a day, and he can be stronger than one hundred men with an invention," Ortho muttered. The others were too busy to notice Ortho float off to search for his brother. Jamil may be talented, but his Big Brother is that and more! He had to drag him out of his room first to show it. 

Ortho was at the Mirror Chamber when he noticed someone enter from Scarabia's door. He saw the frantic look on Jamil's face and made his way to him.

"Jamil! How are you?'

"Fine," the boy replied, searching the room for something or someone.

"Are you looking for someone?" Ortho asked and innocently tilted his head to the side. 

"In fact, yes. I'm looking for Kalim and my little sister, Najma. She looks a little bit like me but shorter."

"Oh, that was your sister! I saw her with Kalim earlier! They were talking to Yuu, nearby one of the first-year classrooms. I can lead the way for you if you want." Vil would be proud of his acting skills if he could see him now.

"Great Sevens, those two," Jamil sighed out of relief. "Please."

The two trek through the school with Orthro leading. Jamil could not see the glee in the boy's eyes. If he removed Najma from the picture, he could have Yuu all to himself and use the time to praise his Big Brother! Ortho mentally high-fives himself for the genius plan.

"Jamil is also really good at basketball. You should have seen when he made the winning shot against RSA," Kalim's voice echoed, causing Jamil to walk faster. 

"NAJMA! KALIM!" Jamil called out once they were in his sight. "Stop annoying the Prefect. We need to get back to Scarabia for the party."

Najma's face lights up with an idea, "We can invite Yuu!"

Jamil rolled his eyes and grabbed the two by the back of their shirts, "No, this party is for both our parents and Kalim's siblings. We will be late if we do not leave right now." Jamil stopped his scolding and turned to Yuu. "I'm so sorry about them, Prefect. I don't want them to interrupt your day."

Yuu laughed, "It's alright. They were telling me some things about you."

Jamil's eyes widen in horror, "WHAT?" 

"I didn't know you once faced a hundred bad guys with swords before."

Jamil turned to the duo in his hands, then Yuu, then back at them again. His face became red as Riddle's hair as the seconds passed, "We are leaving!"

"But Jamil!" Kalim and Najma whine.

"NO BUTS! We are leaving before you feed Yuu more lies," He dragged the two down the hall and back to Scarabia.

"None of that were lies though!" Kalim's voice echoed.

"I've see the way you look at her and it is sad to watch. You needed the help anyway!" Najma added.

"No, I don't!" Jamil replied. The trio's voices became quieter until they were out of sight. 

Ortho and Yuu stood in silence. After some time passed, Ortho glanced over at Yuu.

"Big Sister, based on the changes in your heart, I can tell you are feeling sad. Is something wrong?" Ortho asked and noticed the sad look on the Prefect's face. The Prefect's eyes widen from getting caught. 

"Yeah. It's just…watching Jamil and Najma interact reminds me of my younger siblings back home. Sometimes I feel lonely watching everyone interact with their families." 

"How many siblings do you have?'

"A younger brother and a younger sister. You know, Ortho, you remind me of my little brother." Yuu smiled and ruffled Ortho's hair. Ortho's eyes became bright with joy.

"Thank you, Big Sister. You might feel lonely now, but most people here consider you family. For example, Ace and Deuce."

Yuu laughed, the corners of her mouth turning upward slightly. "They are like brothers to me, always getting into trouble but loveable at the same time."

"See!"

"I can't forget the Ramshackle ghosts, the rest of the Heartslabyul guys, and the professors!"

"Yeah, so you may miss your family sad, but you still have people around you who consider you their own. You won't be lonely until Crowley finds you a way home!"

Yuu smiled, "You're right, Ortho. Come here." she opened her arms to him in a hug that Ortho immediately flew to. "Thank you, Ortho, for cheering me up." She lets go of the boy and looks around the hallway. "By the way, where is Idia? I haven't seen him all day."

"Oh!" Ortho replied, unaware of the pitter-patter of the child's feet getting louder and louder. "He wanted me to tell you about the new Star Rogue game that just came out. Big Brother wants you to"

"Auntie Yuu!"

----

Rival 2: Cheka Kingscholar

Ortho wished that kicking a 5-year-old kid across the island would not be a high-risk thing to do. His parents had already dealt with the damage caused by him and his big brother on the Island of Woe. The last thing his parents need is to deal with the royal family of Sunset Savanna.

Still, Ortho has got to be one of the few people who can say one of his rivals is a kindergartener. A child, for crying out loud! An annoying child who has been clinging to the Prefect, talking her ear off about how great his Unca Leona is, and is using his big brown eyes (that reminded Ortho of the toddler's eyes from a popular babysitter's anime Idia loves) to increase his cuteness by 100%.

"Give me five seconds, and I can increase my cuteness by 1000%. Big Brother recently installed a program to do that," Ortho muttered to himself while glaring at the newest addition to the group. He could use that feature to his advantage. Still, the child will not give him the opportunity by choosing to wrap himself around her waist and staying there like a koala. 

"Cheka! What are you doing here, and where are your attendants? Yuu frantically asked and looked around for them. The last thing she wanted to do was get on the royal family's bad side. 

"I couldn't wait to see you, Auntie, so I left them all behind! Hee hee!"

Yuu's mouth opened from shock. "we need to find them right away!"

Cheka didn't share the same feelings as Yuu and instead just laughed it off, "We could find Unca instead. Did you know that he is very cool and strong? He has so many friends that we all played together once. He even made me fly!"

Yuu could only respond in a confused tone. Ortho felt his patience run thin from the young prince. 

"I'm sorry, Prince Cheka, but Yuu is busy right now." Ortho tried to pry the cub off Yuu, but Cheka refused to let go. He could try to use more force, but it can lead to a torn uniform and an unhappy Professor Crewel. 

Ortho's words fly past Cheka's ears, "Not now! This is an emergency!" the young prince turned and glared at Ortho.

Oh, he is going down! Give him a few seconds, and he could blast the child out of existence!

"An emergency?" Yuu asked, unaware of Ortho's hair looking Idia's when he gets angry. 

"You must marry my Unca because he loves you and wants to be with you forever!"

Yuu laughed and moved her arms around to carry Cheka, "Did your Uncle tell you that?" she asked while imaging the grumpy lion down on one knee and asking her to marry him. 

Cheka nodded his head so fast. "Of course! He wants you to be his princess! If you marry him, then you can be my Auntie. Then we can all spend each day playing!"

Ortho, who was starting to get annoyed, immediately butted in, "Big Sister! If you do that, then your other family will miss you! Big Brother will miss you too!"

Cheka glared at Ortho again. He turned to Yuu and increased his cuteness by pouting his lips, "Unca Leona loves you, Auntie! He can die from heartbreak if you're not with him!"

Ortho rolled his eyes, "Your uncle won't die."

"You don't know that! You're the only one who can make him happy! Auntie, Unca Leona is so sad without you! We can't let Unca cry!"

Yuu hesitantly laughed, "I'm pretty sure your Uncle has other things that make him happy."

"But would you consider marrying him to make him happier?" Cheka asks, his eyes glistening with tears. Ortho rolled his eyes again. 

"I think we are too young to get married?"

"In the future, then?"

Ortho had enough. "That's it! Prince Cheka, Big Sister is busy right now, and she needs to go." He flew over and grabbed one of Yuu's arms to pull her away. 

Cheka leaped out of Yuu's remaining arm and grabbed it to pull, "No, she is going with me!"

"No, she needs to see my big brother!" pull.

"No, she must see my Unca! He will cry if he never sees her." pull.

"He. Will. Not. Die!" pull.

"Well, I bet my Unca is cooler than your brother. He can drive his car through land and sea*!" pull.

"Oh yeah? Well, my brother can take apart a blastcycle, customize it with a functional value, AND drive it!" pull.

"Oh yeah? My brother can fly a flying carpet! That takes a lot of skill to master." Najma added, materializing out of nowhere after she escaped from her brother. She pulled Ortho and Cheka's hands off of Yuu and glared at them.

Ortho groaned, "Not you again!"

The three began to argue about which of their family members was better and left Yuu off to the side.  

Yuu's arms were now sore from all the pulling, and she could feel a headache forming. Despite this, Yuu could not stop a small smile from forming on her face. She blinked once and saw her younger siblings arguing instead of her friends. The argument was both cute and an annoying thing to watch. 

 "ENOUGH!" Yuu yelled, causing everyone to stop arguing. "You all need to stop arguing because it is not helping me pick a side."

"Exactly. You three are causing a ruckus on school grounds," A stern voice added. Everyone turned around to find Professor Crewel glaring at them. Najma and Cheka tremble from the professor's gaze. "You pups need to apologize to Yuu for the incoming headache and disrupting the school."

Ortho, Najma, and Cheka give each other a look and nod, "We're sorry, Big Sister/Yuu/Auntie."

Yuu smiled, kneeled, and opened her arms for a hug. "I forgive you," she says, and the three children join in on the group hug. Crewel smiled at the sight before clearing his throat to get their attention.

"Yuu, can you help me sort the potions in my office?" He asked and tapped his pointer three times against his palm. 

"Of course," she stood up. "You three be good now," Yuu ruffled the children's hair and headed towards Crewel's office. 

Crewel turned towards Ortho, "Shroud. I want you to bring these two back to their respective dorms. You can help guide them back."

Ortho sighed, "Yes sir," he replied, looked at the other two, and flew off towards the Mirror Chamber. "My brother is the coolest, though," he whispered to himself, but Cheka, having enhanced hearing, heard it all.

"My Unca is cooler plus 100."

Najma rolled her eyes, "You mean times 100? Anyways, my brother is cooler times 1000."

The three could not help the laugh escaping their lips. They will cease fire for now. The winner can be chosen another day. 

----

"-uu. Yuu." Crewel called out and shook Yuu's body to wake her up. 

Yuu groaned but opened her eyes to the bright light of Crewel's office. Her body was on his red leather couch, Grim snuggled beside her, and his thick coat acted as her blanket. 

"You need to wake up. The sun has already set, and I want you to get some sleep tonight," Crewel said softly and stood up to walk to his desk. The campus sounded quiet except for the crickets chirping outside. 

Ah, so Family Day is over. 

"When did Grim show up?" Yuu asks through a yawn. She sits up, picks up Grim, and places him on her lap.

"About an hour ago. He was already knocked out when Trappola brought him here," Crewel picked up a neatly wrapped box on his desk and walked back to the Prefect. "These are for you." Yuu grabbed the box and immediately opened it. Inside was an assortment of cookies and chocolates that looked too expensive for Yuu. "Since your actual family is not here for Family Day, I wanted to give you this to celebrate it. Feel free to share it with your friends,"

Yuu could feel tears forming. She used to feel alone after she crashed the entrance ceremony, but not anymore. Yuu now has people who love her despite the possibility of her leaving. She appreciates all he does as someone she views as a father figure in Twisted Wonderland. Crewel's gift may not be as grand as her whole family showing up, but the small things count. 

"Thank you so much," she placed Grim and the gift down and stood up to hug the man. 

Crewel smiled, "You're welcome, Yuu." he pulled away. "Now get some rest, or else you might give the Pomefiore students a heart attack if you show up with eyebags."

Yuu laughed, "Of course," she grabbed Grim, the box, and headed out the door. Yuu smiled at her memories from today as she walked back to Ramshackle. She enjoyed reuniting with Najma and Cheka despite their arguing with Ortho over who she should hang out with. 

Why were they so persistent about it? Yuu thought to herself when it suddenly hit her.

"I forgot about Idia!" Yuu exclaimed. Her movement caused Grim to mumble something in his sleep. Yuu tucked Grim over her shoulder and ran toward the Mirror Chamber when she saw the guy in question heading her way. 

"Idia!" Yuu called out with glee. It had been a long day for her, so seeing him made her smile. "Where have you been all day? I wanted to hang out with you."

Idia blushed and started sweating, "Y-you did? I was in my room since my parents did not show up today. I was actuallywaitingonyousowecouldplaythisnewgametogether." Idia mumbled the last part so fast that Yuu could not understand it. 

"I'm sorry. I missed the last part?" 

"I said I was waiting for you to play the new Star Rogue together. I asked Ortho to get you, but he returned without you."

Yuu laughed nervously, "Ah, that. Yeah, a lot of stuff happened, and Ortho was busy." She replied, unaware of Idia's increasing heartbeat caused by the Prefect's adorable laugh. 

Idia imagined there was a meter beside him, and it kept growing every time the Prefect did something cute (read: that is a lot of things). There's a limit that could cause it to explode. 

Idia avoided Yuu's stare by looking at the fancy box in the girl's hands. His eyes lit up in excitement. "Where did you get the sweets from?"

Yuu smiled. "Professor Crewel!" Saying his name made his earlier words replay in her mind. Suddenly, her face lit up like she had an idea. "Hey, Idia. Why don't you and Ortho come over to Rhamshakle for a sleepover? We can play Star Rogue and eat these sweets together."

Cue the meter beside Idia, exploding into a million pieces. Now Idia was red, frozen, and unsure about what to do. 

Yuu waved a hand across Idia's face. "Hey, are you okay?"

"YES!" Idia squeaked out and cleared his throat. "I mean, yeah. I don't mind having a sleepover at Ramshackle tonight."

Yuu squealed from excitement. "Yay!" She jumped with glee. Suddenly, she tucked the candy box under one arm, used her other arm to grab Idia's shoulder, and tiptoed to kiss his cheek. 

Idia.exe has stopped working. Oh yeah, Idia was VERY red now, and his hair turned a bright shade of pink. 

Is this how the MC feels when they get kissed by a love interest? Idia thought to himself like he was in an otome game. He could see the intimacy meter between him and Yuu go up.

"I'm so excited! I will go ahead and set up the lounge. You can grab Ortho and whatever else we need for the sleepover. We can meet up in my dorm after we get everything."

"S-s-sounds good," Idia gave a tiny thumbs up, which was the best he could do then. 

"See you then!" Yuu called out and headed back towards Ramshackle with a pep in her step. Once Yuu was out of sight, Idia pulled out his tablet to connect to Ortho. 

"Hello, Big Brother! Do you need something?" 

Idia could not articulate anything. First, his crush invited him to her dorm, and then she kissed him. The Prefecf actually KISSED HIM on the cheek. 

"THEPREFECTKISSEDME!!" 

"What? Did you say that Big Sister kissed you?"

"Just on the cheek, but it still counts! The UR character actually took an interest in boring old me! Ortho, I need you to get things for our sleepover with the Prefect…."

Ortho chose to not listen to his brother rambling. All he could hear was that he was victorious. 

"Oh, Big Brother," Ortho smiled after Idia was done. "I am so happy for you."

Score: Ortho: +1, Najma: 0, Cheka: 0

----

Earlier in Savanaclaw: 

"UNCA!!!!" Cheka yelled as he barged into Leona's room, left the door open, and pounced on Leona's stomach. Leona let out an 'oof' and glared at his nephew. He sat up, let his blankets fall, and allowed Cheka to sit on his lap.

"Why are you in my room? You're interrupting my nap." 

"You need to marry Yuu, or you could die!" Cheka exclaimed while jumping on Leona's body.

Leona rolled his eyes, "I will not die, kid."

Cheka stopped jumping and leaned toward Leona's face, "You don't know that, so you need my help to impress her!"

Leona pushed Cheka's face away, "Look, furball, I do not need any help to impress Yuu. She can take one look at me and realize that is all she needs." Leona was too prideful to say it aloud, but he grew to like the herbivore. Has she been clueless to him affections her? Yes but he refuses to ask his nephew, of all people, for help.

Cheka blinked and stared at his uncle's face, "You need more than that, Unca!"

Leona groaned in annoyance. Cheka was too stubborn not to give up, and Leona was tired. Leona contemplated his next step when he heard familiar footsteps approaching his door. 

Ah, it is about time for Ruggie to come to pick up his laundry. 

"Hey, Leona! You better have your laundry somewhat neat." His voice called out, slowly getting louder as he got closer.

Leona grabbed the back of Cheka's shirt, "Hey Cheka, I'll let you help me if we play a game first."

Cheka's eyes lite up in glee, "Oh! What game?"

As Ruggie walked into Leona's doorway, Leona picked up Cheka and threw him at Ruggie's face.

"What the" Ruggie exclaimed and managed to catch the laughing Cheka. Leona quickly jumped up and walked to his balcony. 

"I'll leave him to you. Don't go looking for me." Leona called back. 

"Hey!" Ruggie runs after him, but it is too late. Leona already jumped off and gracefully landed on the ground. He walked out, leaving Ruggie and Cheka alone in the dorm room.

Cheka turned to Ruggie with a bright grin, "Let's do it again!"

Ruggie could only sigh. This will be a long day.

Bonus: 

"Father, when you said there was an emergency, I did not think makeup would be the reason." Silver's legs started to feel numb as Lilia rubbed some eyeshadow on his eyelids. Earlier, Lilia was adding different makeup powders to the boy's face, so he had to resist the urge to sneeze. 

"Hush, Silver! Master Lilia requires us to sit here for hours getting for…what is it for actually?" Sebek's face contoured in confusion despite his eyes being closed for his eyeshadow. 

"Fufufu the Prefect needs to be starstruck by your looks that she will say yes if either of you asks for her hand in marriage."

"MARRIAGE?!" Silver and Sebek exclaimed at the same time, their eyes opening wide. Sebek's scream caused some of the photos on Malleus' wall to shake. 

"Hush, you two. You will ruin the hard work I spent hours on." Lilia replied and threw some glitter at his son's faces as a finishing touch. Malleus opened his eyes and glanced at Lilia.

"I understand why you want to dress up and use makeup to impress the Child of Man, but are three people required for this?" 

"Of course! The more people, the better, and I need only one of you to succeed. Now look at yourselves." Lilia stepped away so the trio could look at themselves in the mirror. "Do you or do you not feel bonita?"

The trio gave each other a confused look. None of them heard of that word before. Lilia may have picked up some of Rook's weird language.

"We feel bonita?" They replied, sounding more like a question than a statement. Lilia clapped his hands together and smiled brightly. He heard about the multitude of people with similar goals as him. He needed to act fast, or else it would be too late. If there's one thing the fae learned from his gamer friend, Gloomurai, is that otome games have multiple suitors for the MC. From Lilia's perspective, throwing all three of his sons into the competition for Yuu's heart would lead to a good ending for him. Lilia finished his plan by walking over to the vanity and handing them all a ring box. 

"Wonderful because you look bonita!" Despite his small stature, the man stood behind his sons and pushed them out the door. "Now go and woo the Prefect! Don't return until I see a ring on her finger and a promise of future grandchildren!" Lilia called out before slamming the door in their faces. 

The trio stared silently at the door, trying to understand what had happened. Luckily, Malleus decided to break the awkward atmosphere.

"Now what?"

Additional Rivals: Malleus, Silver, and Sebek

---

Professor Crewel cannot believe he is saying this, but he understands Professor Trein's stress in raising children. Who knew that caring for (more like adopting) a magicless human would attract so many mutts to her? Crewel had to admit that his daughter was beautiful (thanks to his hard work), but couldn't it have been from someone who was not as horrible as them? The man could only count a few decent guys with one hand, but they were not enough for his pup. His pup deserved the best. 

Crewel sat on his sofa and snacked some crackers topped with raisin butter. Earlier, he had to save his pup from a group of children using their secret code. Then, he saw the older Shroud boy speak to his daughter as she walked back to Ramshackle.

The man sighed. He opened his wine fridge to grab a bottle of red wine, a glass from the cabinet behind him, and poured himself a drink. Whoever his pup picks better be the right one for her. Until then, he will watch the lovesick mutts fight each other for her attention. Crewel swirled the red wine around and drank it all in one go. He could feel the stress already forming from the imaginary image of the mutts fighting on school property, Crowley barging into classrooms, and the overblots were already making a dent in the school's budget. Teenage boys and property damage would make it even worse. 

Crewel eyed the bottle one more time before making a decision. He may need a stronger drink. 

©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2. Do not modify or republish

Sorry for the wait but the fic is now here! I hope that yall enjoyed it :)

* - the "sea" Cheka is referring to is a giant puddle Leona drove through during his Sunset Savanna event card vignette

Taglist: @nanograms, @krispyenthusiastkitten, @strawberrycaramelcapybara, @mochiclouds, @kitty-page, @fancyhawk45, @xxoomiii, @kiyoyachisimp, @arisdelssy, @rainbowcake1212, @forgwater, @justyoureverydaytwstsimp, @savanaclaw1996, @shrimpsterprefect, @that-creepy-girl-000, @penguinmilo, @tingerines, @julessketchbook, @i-am-the-avatar-of-idiocy, @booming-spam, @nekanecorvus, @glacticrose, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @imakeeggswet, @hatshroom, @lunarapple, @simp-simp-no-mi, @the-hearteater, @aroseyhyena, @vitaniangel-blog, @nxyll34, @everettelz

[staylovesmiley]

Going Dumb~ Chapter 9

ᯓᡣ𐭩Pairing; Kim Seungmin x Fem!reader, Stray kids x Fem!reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩Summary; It had been over a decade since you had last seen each other, having met in choir when Seungmin was living with his grandparents in LA and you with your Aunt. Now that you are both presented adults, how will he handle a change to the reality of you he had made in his mind in your absence over the years?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩 Notes; This is an ABO!AU. in this world when someone reaches puberty they will present with one of three sub genders; alpha, beta, or omega. Due to Alphas and Omegas experiencing rut and heat, some jobs are restrictive as to what sub genders they will hire, specifically singling out omegas as heat suppressants are harder to obtain than rut suppressants. Scent glands are located near the pressure points on the neck and small hormonal patches called scent blockers can be placed over them to reduce or rid an individual of their scent for a period of time depending on the strength of the hormones in the patch.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩Warnings; abo!au, beta!kim seungmin, almost all alpha!straykids, female!reader, poly!pack dynamics, angst, mild violence, mentions of sexual harassment/assault and discrimination, smut, enemies to lovers, Kim seungmin is kind of an ass I’m so sorry dandy boy, she/her pronouns used for reader, jealous seungmin, I have only ever wrote one abo story before but it is one of my favorite genres so I hope I can do this justice~

It wasn’t too long after Chan had left and you had began drifting back to sleep when the door quietly pushed open and someone slipped into the room and under the covers, careful not to wake you.

Despite their efforts, your eyes fluttered open to be met with a foxlike gaze staring back at you with a startled expression. “Sorry bunny, was I too loud?” Jeongin spoke softly, a frown on his face causing you to shake your head frantically and give him a sleepy smile. “No, just felt the bed move a bit…” you said with a yawn, rubbing at your eyes.

The alpha whined, pulling the blankets up over the two of you higher. “Just go back to sleep, ‘kay? It’s still early, Channie hyung just asked if I’d come keep you company….said you were cold?” His pout was so cute it made you wanna reach up and pinch at his cheeks though you refrained and instead chose to snuggle closer to the young alpha and inhale the deep smell of black cherry. “M’kay, don’t have to tell me twice ayen~” you said with a bright smile, eyes closing as you started to drift off in the maknae’s arms.

Jeongin smiled, a light blush on his cheeks as he brought one hand up to play with your hair gently until he too fell back asleep with you in his arms.

After sleeping in a few more hours, the smell of someone cooking wafted into Chan’s room and effectively woke the both of you.

“Did you sleep okay?” Jeongin said with a yawn, sitting up in the bed causing the blankets to pool at his waist and pull away from you slightly. “Yeah I did, thanks to you~” You said with a smile, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you sat up beside him. “Should we go see what whoever’s out there is cooking?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow at the alpha who nodded eagerly. “M’so hungry- smells like Leeknow hyung’s cooking!” Without another word the maknae was up and pulling you with him into the kitchen.

“Good morning sleepy heads!” Jisung chirped from the island, the cup of coffee in his hands nowhere near as strong as his own natural scent even with the smell of Minho’s caramel scent mixed within it. You gave the alpha a sleepy smile and settled beside him with a wink. “You and Min smell like you had fun last night after I left.” A light blush crept up his neck and to his cheeks at your words, looking over to where Minho was cooking to see if he had also heard. “You could say that, yeah-“

You laughed into your hand at his reaction to your teasing, feeling good to finally not be the one turning red at one of their relentless attempts to fluster you. “Cutie, Innie, you hungry?” The two of you nodded in sync as you leaned over the island to try and get a better look at what the older was cooking up.

“I can always eat.” The youngest chirped as he walked to where the coffee pot sat on the counter. “Bunny do you want some?” He gestured towards the cup he was pouring for himself before moving to get an extra mug.

“No thanks- I feel weirdly energetic already.” Seungmin appeared from his room, wordlessly shuffling over to where you stood and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind with his chin resting on your shoulder. “That’s normal for after an omega’s heat breaks.” Minho explained, messing more with whatever it was he was cooking on the stove before moving to grab a stack of plates from the cabinet. At the mention of your heat, Seungmin looked over to where Jisung stood beside you to see him give you a look that caused you to blush and look away from him.

Seungmin pulled away, feeling nauseous at the display as he felt angry stew in his chest. At the loss of warm you let out a whine and turned to see where your childhood friend had gone to catch him moving over to rummage around in the fridge for something other than coffee to drink. He berated himself in his head for getting upset over the interaction and the memory of the intimacy you now shared with the alpha. Something far back in his mind growled, gnashing it’s teeth as it tried to claw its way to the surface. The desire to steal you away and not let anyone even look at you again echoing loudly in his mind though he couldn’t understand why.

As you watched Seungmin make a quick plate of whatever Minho had been cooking before retreating back to his room a frown found its way to your face. “What’s up with him?” You said, just above a whisper as the second oldest passed you a plate of your own full of the breakfast he had made. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed I assume.” The alpha smirked, passing plates out to Jeongin and Jisung before leaning against the island with his own plate before digging in. “Don’t mind him- he has his moments.” You nodded, knowing all too well how his so called moments could be. Deep down you worried that maybe you had done something to upset the beta, afraid of ending up back how you had been when you first arrived.

The four of you ate in relative silence, you and Jeongin clearing aways and cleaning up after everyone was finished. While you were at the sink washing up the dishes you felt a pair of arms snaking around your waist from behind. The smell of warm caramel enveloped you and you smiled softly to yourself. “Hi Min.” Your voice was calm, your hands continuing to work at your task of washing up while the alpha’s chin came to rest on your shoulder and he took a deep inhale near the scent gland on your neck. “You still smell like Hannie-“ With a giggle you shrugged off his words, setting another two plates into the drying rack on the counter beside the sink. “Is that a bad thing?”

At your question, Jisung could be heard shouting out from where he sat in the living room on his phone that it most definitely wasn’t. However, the older alpha leaned in to muzzle against your neck. “Could smell better like the both of us.” He teased, causing you to almost drop the plate you were holding into the sink. A blush crept up to your cheeks and you carefully pulled away from Minho’s embrace to finish up and dry your quickly pruning hands.

Minho tried not to take your actions as a form of rejection, the sight of your flushed skin calming any worry he had that he may have been too forward and upset you. Well, that and the sweet smell of oranges filling the space you shared in the kitchen. “Listen- uh…do you have any plans today?” You thought for a moment, moving passed the alpha to flop down onto the couch beside Jisung who’s arms immediately pulled you closer to him. “Not that I can think of? I’m kinda off whenever you guys are-“

The older alpha stared at you blankly for a moment before nodding, chuckling awkwardly to himself. “Right, right- we’ll I wasn’t sure if anyone else had made plans with you so I wanted to check-“ coming around the couch, Minho took a seat on the over side of you as Jisung gave a kiss to the top of your head. At the feeling you leaned your head back against his shoulder to look up at him and he gave a wide, heart shaped smile once he had your attention. “What Minho is taking forever to say is that we want to take you shopping today if you are up for it.”

It was your turn to stare, a lost and confused look in your eyes as you pulled away to look at him properly. “Shopping? Is there a reason or you guys just feeling like enjoying some retail therapy?” You teased them lightly, not fully grasping what they meant. “Bunny- no, we mean shopping for you. Well, more specifically for your room!” Oh, you thought. Your eyes subconsciously drifted over to the door to your room as your head tilted slightly. “What do I need to go shopping for my room for?”

Minho whined, causing Jisung to follow suit as the pair of alphas draped themselves over you dramatically. “Your room is so lame!” Minho said, over exaggerating his words with the way he groaned along with them. Jisung nodded in agreement and gave you the softest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen. “Please go shopping with us for your room- you can pick out whatever you like just as long as it’s really what you like! Our treat!” You frowned a bit, looking between the alphas as you bit your lower lip.

“I couldn’t ask you guys to do that-“ Minho perked up, taking your hand in his own as he pulled you in the direction of your room. “Well good thing you aren’t asking, we are offering.” “Begging-“ Jisung corrected, hot on your heels as he trailed after the pair of you. “Yeah- that! Anyways- please get ready and we will be waiting out here for you so we can go.” The older alpha gently ushered you into your room and you let out a soft laugh. “I am not really getting a say in this, am I?”

The pair shook their heads, smiles wide as they closed the door for you to get ready. “Nope! It’s for your own good. Don’t take too long now-“ You heard the sound of their foot steps retreating back into the living room as you shook your head, laughing still at their antics while heading over to where your suitcases sat in your closet.

Shopping for your room had taken much longer than any of you had anticipated, Jisung and Minho insisting that you needed to replace almost everything already in the room to suit your taste on top of finding things to actually decorate and make it feel more personal. You ended up back at the dorm in the early evening, having to call in reinforcements from the other members to carry in everything that didn’t need to be ordered.

There was everything from new bedding, decorative pillows and throw blankets, stuff to hang on the walls and set on your desk and dresser, not to mention the new bed frame and mattress that Minho insisted you needed because your eyes lingered on the display a bit too long in the store.

Now, sat back in your room with multiple bags full of what the two alphas had got for you, you got to work setting everything up to your liking. It didn’t take nearly as long as shopping for everything had, finishing up the final touches you took a step back to admire your work. The room now looked warm and inviting, everything in soft shades of orange, yellow, and green with touches of creams to balance it out. You had even switched out the overhead lights in the room and left only the new lamp at your bedside table on to cast a warm glow around the room.

The only task you had yet to complete was your closet.

Minho had given you strict instructions to unpack your belongings finally, even purchasing new hangers to prompt you into doing so. You didn’t really know why you had put it off, telling yourself it was most likely due to the nature of their, and now by extension your, job. Traveling was a necessity and having everything still packed away made it more convenient but you knew deep down you we’re waiting for something to go wrong, for the other shoe to drop so to speak and for you to be out of a home again.

Home.

That’s what this was for you.

More than just a place to eat, bathe, and rest your head at night. This was your home and so were they. The thought of ever having to leave again caused a rock like put to rest in your gut and make you feel nauseous and dizzy.

As these thoughts were racing through your head and you were slowly putting away each individual item of clothing like a game of jenga where one wrong move could send the whole tower crashing down around you, a soft knock sounded at the door and the smell of warm fresh linens wafted from the crack underneath. “Come in, Minnie.” You called softly, working to hang up one of your sweaters without snagging the fabric on the hanger.

The door opened slowly, the beta making his way inside before closing it behind him with a soft click. “Woah…you’ve really started to make the place your own, huh?” He said, a hint of fondness in his tone as he made his way into the dimly lit room to take a seat on the edge of your bed.

You nodded, smiling to yourself as you continued to work putting away your clothes. “Mhm, you could say that…Min and Hannie didn’t really give me much of a choice.” You said with a laugh, thinking back to how they practically dragged you from store to store picking up anything that seemed to catch your eye and refusing to take no for an answer when it came to getting it for you. “Not that I’m not grateful- I just….didn’t see why it was so necessary.”

Seungmin nodded, fighting off the smell of soured laundry left in the wash too long from invading his normally neutral scent at the mention of a certain alpha. “Right- about that…” his word’s caught your interest, your hands now working to fold and place articles of your clothing away in the small dresser in the room. “About what- My room? Do you know why they were so insistent that I decorate all of a sudden?” Though you weren’t facing him, the beta shook his head before realizing he would have to vocalize his thoughts to you for you to understand.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, his fists curled into the comforter beneath him as his gaze was glued to his lap. “Han- um…you and he are like- what is going on there?” His words both came tumbling out of his mouth like a can of soda shaken violently before being opened while also feeling like it took the force of an army to push them out. “What-“ Your movements froze mid fold as you held a soft pair of sweat pants to your torso, not noticing that they happened to be Seungmin’s that he had loaned you all those months ago yet you had kept forgetting to return them.

The beta closed his eyes tightly, nose scrunching slightly with the force. “It’s just- I get it, ya know….he’s a good alpha. He better treat you well or I-“ you cut him off with a giggle, hand coming up to cover your mouth as you turned to face him. “Minnie, honey- that’s really sweet of you, honestly, but-“ You made your way over to him, standing in front of where he sat on the bed to run a hand through his hair gently. “There isn’t anything going on between me and Jisung.”

He leaned into your touch, a contented sound raising in the back of his throat as he felt his body visibly relax from the tension he was holding in since the moment he and the two youngest alphas had returned back from their vacation. “Really? But-“ You shook your head, smiling down at him as you let the smell of sweet citrus surround you both. “We’re you jealous?” You couldn’t help but ask, some insane part of you wishing he was. You always knew part of you, no matter how small, had feelings for the beta. Even as children you couldn’t help but admire him, and that admiration had turned into adoration over time.

Now, with how close the two of you had been growing with the close proximity, you couldn’t deny the attraction there that pulled you towards him. You had never believed in the soulmate bonds everyone spoke of, thinking them just a silly superstition, until you had met Seungmin all those years ago. You tried to ignore and push away those thoughts, especially since the two of you were now working together. But with him in front of you now, face heating up slightly as he inquired about your time spending your heat with one of his members, you found it hard not to let your mind wonder of what it could mean.

“No- ‘m not jealous.” Seungmin huffed, pulling you to sit on his lap as he buried his face in the crook of your neck to rub his nose and cheek against your scent gland so the smell would wash over him completely. “Just worried….I- I just got you back, and I was such an ass in the beginning…” he explained softly, voice just above a whisper now. “If you and Han got together now- I dunno I just was afraid maybe you wouldn’t want to spend as much time with me.” You smiled, giggling a little as you placed a kiss on the top of his head. “You think you can get rid of me so easily? Sorry, Minnie. I’m you’re problem til the day I die.” You teased, pulling back to cup his face in your hands.

The smell of warm laundry straight from the dryer and sweet candied citrus swirled around the two of you as you stared into each others eyes for what felt like an eternity. Seungmin swallowed hard, trying to force his eyes to look away and save himself some dignity before you could catch the way his gaze shifted slight to look down at your soft, plump lips only inches from his own. It would be so easy for him to tilt his head up just so, and press a light kiss against those lips. A whimper escaped his throat before he could stop it and instead of giving into his impulsive thoughts he rested his head back against your shoulder.

You laughed, shaking your head as your heart was beating out of your chest. For a moment there it felt as if the beta was going to kiss you, and you probably wouldn’t have had the strength to stop him. “Seungmin, really….you don’t have anything to worry about. I’m not going anywhere any time soon- but I’m glad you came to me about your worries.” You brushed his hair back gently before rising from where you had been sitting on his lap. “I gotta finish putting these away, but I’ll be done in a bit and then we can go cuddle up in your room for a movie night if you want?” You suggested, figuring he was just missing you since it had been almost a month since they had all seen you or Jisung between the schedules you two had to miss and their vacation time after.

Before the beta could answer there was a knock at the door before it quickly opened to show a freshly showered Chan dressed comfortably in a pair of sweat pants and a tight fitting black tank top. “Hey Bunny I was thinking and I was wondering if you wanted- oh. Hi Seungmin- sorry Bun, I didn’t know you had company…” the beta stood quickly, looking between the two of you before bowing slightly to the alpha. “I was just heading out, hyung.” Seungmin spoke softly, giving you a sweet smile before heading out.

The pack leader didn’t miss the look of longing on your face as he left, or the way the room smelled like a perfect mix of the two of you in a way that brought him deep comfort. A smile settled on his face, knowing deep down what he had come to speak to you about was right as the effect the both of your scents had to calm down his nerves in an instant was enough reassurance for him that he wasn’t thinking irrationally. “Is everything okay, Chris?” You asked softly, trying not to sound too disappointed at the departure of the younger man. “Oh- right!” The alpha beamed, taking the clothing you were folding to set it on top of the dresser before taking both of your hands into his larger ones. “Bunny, I know this is coming far too late, and at this point it is only a formality- to make things official-“ As the older rambled on, your face betrayed you as it dawned on you what he had come to ask. “Yeah?” Your voice was full of hope, looking up into his warm brown eyes with excitement as you tried not to bounce on the balls of your feet with the anticipation building inside of your chest.

The alpha laughed, shaking his head before pulling your hands so that they rested against his chest and his arms moved to circle around your waist as if to help ground you from the adrenaline coursing through you. “Would you please join my pack?” You practically squealed, launching yourself at him as your arms wrapped around his neck and you cling to him tightly. “As if I’d ever say no-“ he chuckled, holding you close and rubbing slow circles over your back before carefully setting you down. “Well I wanted to make sure- you know you are already pack to all of us….this will just make things more-“ “-real.” You said, almost breathlessly as you thought about how things got to this point, all that you had been through to make it here.

“Do you want to do this here or-“ you said, eager to officially become a member of the pack you had become so fond of. “I thought so…if you want- would make the room smell a lot like me though.” You scoffed, eyes rolling playfully as you pulled the older man over to the bed. “You say that like it’s a negative thing-“ he only chuckled, choosing not to answer as you stopped at the edge of the bed.

Suddenly nerves started to build inside of you, wondering if it would hurt like how your mother had always warned though you were sure that was only to stop you from joining the first pack to come along asking for you to be their omega.

Chan offered a warm, dimpled smile as he could smell the anxiety suddenly tinging your scent. “Bunny, breathe.” His voice was deep, soothing, as one of his hands came to cup the back of your neck while the other rested on your waist. You forced yourself to hold eye contact with the alpha as he carefully pulled you close against his chest while using the hand on the back of your neck to tilt your head and make room for him.

His breath felt hot against your skin as he placed soft kisses against your scent glands, shivers running down your spine at the anticipation before suddenly you felt the sharp sting of his canines piercing your skin. You let out a whimper, hands fisting in his top before suddenly you felt your mind wiring with the connection to the eight members to yourself. Just like that your mind, body, and spirit felt heavily in tune with the man in front of you and as the feeling overwhelmed you your body went limp in his hold.

The leader was quick to support your weight, the hand on your waist curving around to hold you up against him before gently laying you down against the soft mattress. As he pulled away from your neck, Chan looked down into your blissed out expression and chuckled. “You took it better than Seungmin did- don’t tell him I told you so but the pup was a blubbering mess when he got his pack mark.” You couldn’t help but giggle, shaking your head at the thought as Chan laid down beside you and began carding his fingers through your hair gently. “Yeah? Well- he doesn’t like to advertise it but he is pretty sensitive.” The alpha laughed, head burying into your hair as he placed a kiss there.

“Want me to stay here for a bit while you settle into it all?” You nodded instantly, not hesitation as you curled into his side. “Please?” He nodded, holding you against him as you rested your head against his chest.

While you lay there, heart beat regulating itself from where it had spiked from the sudden rush of being linked together with the others instinctually. You could hear your phone buzzing on the beside table, no doubt from the others as they had to have felt the moment you were connected with them all through their own pack marks. “Leave it. We’ll go out and see them for dinner shortly anyways and we can talk all about it. Now I get you all to myself, the new baby of the pack.”

You giggled, shaking your head as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck. “Jeongin isn’t gonna be too happy about that-“ the older scoffed, pulling back enough to look down at you. “Actually it was Minho before you- so you’ll have to take it up with him.” His smirk wasn’t missable and you felt yourself take a deep and shaky breath. “Oh-“ was all you said as the alpha burst into a fit of laughter at the look of fear in your eyes, though only feigned as you knew the second eldest would never lay a finger on you like he did some of the others. Call it omega privileges if you will, or just the alpha’s own bias.

The two of you stayed like that for the rest of the evening until Minho was practically breaking down your door with how hard he was knocking, assuming the pair of you had fallen asleep, coming to let you know that dinner was ready and to come eat before it was all gone.

Three weeks, that’s how long it had been since you officially became part of the pack.

Things were going well and you felt as though you had found a better home than you could have ever imagined with the stray kids pack. Your days didn’t change much, only now the members who used to hold back from scenting you didn’t hesitate any longer. You were never without at least two of the members scents mixed into your own and it definitely turned some heads at the company but no one said a thing to you or the others about it.

You also had to get used to more than just Minho and Seungmin being overprotective.

If you were in the buildings cafeteria to grab coffees for the members, you would feel Hyunjin’s arms wrap around you lazily from behind as his chin came to rest on your shoulder and the scent of worn leather that had been sitting out in the sun draping over you just as his lithe frame did. His eyes would dart around the room, almost daring anyone to look at you the wrong way.

Or say you were at the photoshoot for their upcoming comeback, watching as they got done up in all the glitz and glam while unbeknownst to you the photographer was approaching from behind with a look in his eyes that didn’t settle well with Felix when he caught the movement from the corner of his eye.

Just as you were introducing yourself to the camera man you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist and the blonde’s long hair tickling at the side of your neck as he leaned down to whisper to you “is he giving you any trouble?” His voice was deep, a low growl hidden in his tone as you quickly shook your head, pushing out your scent in an attempt to prove to him that you were at ease. “Everything‘a okay Lixie, really.” With a little huff and a saccharine smile he gave a kiss to your temple before calling for the photograph to follow him, claiming he was ready for his solo shots while leaving the strong scent of sweet chocolate liquor on your skin where he had just held you.

And of course there was now, waiting at the airport with the members dressed head to toe in Tommy Hilfiger for their appearance at the Met Gala in just a few days time. You had Changbin on one side of you, his pine scent smelling like a forest after a heavy rainfall while on the other side of you Chan’s ocean breeze smelt more like a bright summers day. The contrast had you feeling dizzy as the cameras in front of you flashed in your eyes despite the sunglasses you wore for protection.

The boys had insisted they dress you up to match as well. Though it was just a simple pair of light wash jeans and a bright red Tommy Hilfiger sweatshirt, your heart fluttered at the thought that they wanted you to be seen as a part of them so publicly. While the rest of their staff wore their usual attire, you clearly stood out and almost looked to be a part of the group, and by a technicality you were.

You may not be a member of stray kids the band, but you were part of their pack and the visual hint to this sent fans into a spiral as your attire paired with the group’s quickly became a trending topic while you were busy boarding your flight to New York.

It felt a little unnerving to be headed back to the states after so long, especially the East Coast where you were originally from. Almost half a year had past and things were so different than when you had arrived for Korea alone and scared yet hopeful of what the new beginning would bring. Oh how right you were to be so hopeful.

author’s note: I am SO sorry this took me so long to update- I honestly just got so busy and my muse for this story started to kinda wither a bit but reading everyones lovely comments and reposts recently has been reviving my inspiration and I just couldn’t put it off any longer! Also I know- I was gonna keep where exactly Bunny is from more vague but tbh it’s hard to write a character being from somewhere you aren’t used to or have never been before?? So uuuhh east coast rep it is hehe~ please lmk what you all think of this chapter, what was your favorite part, and what you are excited for to possibly happen in the next chapter (spoiler alter it’s gonna contain scenes from the Met sooo let your imagination run wild with that for now!) ᕱᕱ₊˚⊹♡

taglist; (pink users I wasn’t able to tag) @coastinglove @skzswife @maisyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @doitforbangchan @chartrucewhore @sebastianswhore13 @finnydraws @bahablastplz @0325tiny @motheraiya55 @confusedabouteverythings @hellevator-143 @ihrtlix @h0rnyp0t @katsukis1wife @emmxxsworld @tenshimara @im-sinking-in-mud @n1nme4r

[alwaysaslutforfic]

Tsukki Headcanons ❤️ - NSFW

Just some musings on my favourite Sendai Frogs middle blocker ☺️

Warnings: nothing super explicit. Mentions of sending nudes, hair pulling, and oral sex

Minors keep away from the cut and DNI!

Beta readers? Pft

Listens to any and everything but with a purpose 👌🏾. Ask him for a recommendation in any genre and he’ll give you a top 5 tier list. Has playlists arranged by mood, genre, vibe and occasion (he even has one for you that he will literally never tell you about but plays often. He just tells you it’s his favourite mix). Dude is highkey a music snob. Like he’ll listen to a song in any genre but it better be a fucking ✨S tier song✨ or he will Judge. Will never concede the aux cord.

Meanest tutor ever. Will have you crying at the kitchen table asking the same question till you get it right. “If Johnny has 5 apples! 😤” typa tutor. But his notes are amazing and he’ll always lend them without question.

We already know how I feel about clingy Tsukki. But let me reiterate: this man is obsessed with being in your personal space. Like ”I’m gonna go take a shower.” ”….. without me? 😒”

But he also respects your space when you need it. Just don’t be gone too long or he’ll get lonely. He’s highkey touch starved.

An impeccable driver. And unreasonably hot while doing it. I’m talking hand on thigh, arm on headrest when reversing, will do your seatbelt HOT. And you’re his favourite passenger princess. Tsukki refuses to let anyone adjust your seat. If they’re feeling cramped they’re more than welcome to sit in the back, or even better, walk.

A great cook. He lets you be the taste tester when you cook together. If you can’t cook this is the one time he has an amount of patience teaching you. He is, however, a horrendous baker. Tried to make you valentines day chocolates and you had to throw out the tea towels cos they somehow ended up singed. You laughed till you cried he’d have been hurt about it if you weren’t so beautiful

Likewise, his actions speak louder than his words when it comes to affection. Obviously he compliments you and tells you he loves you, but only on special occasions like birthdays, christmases and blowing your back out ten ways till sunday. But mostly he’ll show you how much he cares by treating you like royalty. Carries your bags while calling you weak, says ‘no’ every single time you ask for a favour but does it anyways, takes you for walks to your favourite ice cream shop and pays for both of you while you bitch about a character in your dumb show that he hates (read: binges with you and gets invested in)

A slip it in while you watch a movie kinda dude. At this point the Netflix subscription is for show. There is literally no point in trying to watch something with him because your legs will be over his shoulders way before the halfway mark.

Much like his actions speaking louder than words, he’s willing to try anything once if you suggest it. This has led to a very interesting bedroom life. There were obviously things that you both decided weren’t for you, but Tsukki would do anything to please you even if he’d never confess it. Once you asked for a personalised dildo so you could have his dick whenever you wanted as a joke. It was there by next week.

Loves fucking you in public. You guys are banned from THREE different lingerie stores. You’re 65% sure he only takes you out so much so he can find somewhere to fuck you, since it’s how most of your dates end. The Karasuno gang clocked you two on a club night when Noya and Tanaka took a badly timed trip to the bathroom. They are constantly embarrassed when you two go missing for half an hour and return dishevelled.

Send. Him. Nudes 😩 Especially when he’s busy. He sends them back and holy shit are they art personified. He heard “don’t send dick pics, send cumshot vids with the sound on” and boy did he run with it in the best of ways. Has a password protected folder for all the filth you send each other.

Speaking of nudes, his dick is so pretty. He doesn’t even manscape. It’s just long and slightly curved with just the right amount of hair. Also so much pre-cum. He was actually a little embarassed by it until he saw how much you loved licking him clean.

Pull his hair and listen to him moan. If you pull it hard enough when he’s close he will just cum. He definitely wasn’t embarrassed the first time it happened. Now it’s sort of a game to see if you can use it to get him off when he’s going down on you.

He’s reconciled with the fact that he has a volleyball brain. Seeing you at his games, and feeling your eyes on him as he jumps blocks is like foreplay to him. It’s always a race to see how quickly he can get you naked and under him after a match.

I will undoubtly have more thoughts on this, because I spend an unreasonable amount of time thinking about Tsukishima Kei

[fckyouiwontdowhatyoutellme]

Okay so seeing that y'all went wild for my silly idea about Sanji having a tattoo motivated me enough to keep writing about it😊 fair warning, it's not beta read and it's been a while since i wrote that much. I hope you enjoy it anyways 🙈 (this part is mostly Zoro being stupid)

The shitty cook has a tattoo. At least Zoro is 99% sure he has one. And not knowing doesn't drive him crazy at all, thank you very much.

He first caught a glimpse of it when the cook changed his clothes shortly after joining their crew. From the corner of his eye and with the cook quickly turning his body away, he first thought it was just another bruise on his ribs but later he thought it looked too perfect to be one. And thus he started his mission of 'Finding out if the shitty Cook has a tattoo and why'. Sure the blond man was no saint but a tattoo still didn't seem to fit someone who almost exclusively wore suits. Maybe it was done in a misguided attempt of rebellion during his teen years? No the lovesick potato peeler was too prissy to do that. Unfortunately he was also really secretive about the tattoo and the fact that it was right on his chest made it very hard to catch another glimpse without having to undress the cook first. Not that Zoro wanted to do that.

He considered asking Luffy or literally anyone else about it, seeing as they were closer to the glorified waiter than he was. Sure they were not exactly best friends or arch nemesis but he still wished they were closer sometimes. Only for the sake of asking the cook about the tattoo of course, nothing more. His mission almost became an obsession over the next weeks, always trying to find a way of getting the cook to loose his shirt or trying to get a glimpse of his chest while he was changing.

He tried "accidentally" spilling some of his food on the Cook's shirt, that earned him a swift kick to the head and a lecture about not wasting food.

He tried slicing the cook's shirt during one of their sparring matches, that earned him some more fierce kicks and a lost fight.

He hoped to see it when they came along an island and Luffy decided they just have a lazy beach day, the cook wore a stupid undershirt and didn't even take it off for swimming.

He tried asking the cook straightforward in a moment of drunk weakness, it earned him a grin and a "Wouldn't you like to know, marimo" in a tone that definetly did not make his insides feel weird.

In another moment of drunk weakness he played with the idea of just walking over to the shitty cook, pinning him against the nearest surface and just ripping open his stupid shirt. That one took some alone time in the bathroom and a cold shower to get rid off.

Why was the cook so secretive about a stupid tattoo? Many people they met had tattoos and proudly displayed them to others. Maybe he tattooed some random girls name on his chest only to be rejected. Zoro huffed out a laugh, no not even the love cook would be that stupid. At least he hoped for it.

The longer his mission went on, the more impatient he grew. It was impossible to get a glimpse of the cook's chest without him immediately going into fight mode because at this point Zoro's only plan was to get off his shirt one way or another. The only option the swordsman never tried was to spy on him while he showered and Zoro was sure he would never sink that low because of the shitty cook. So he still tried to catch a glimpse in any way, even between fights in a desert, in the sky, battling the world government or some warlord. It was no use, the Cook's chest stayed covered in front of his eyes. Only his.

Apparently his friends all had seen the cook's tattoo at some point but nobody told him what it was. They all told him to ask the stupid potato peeler himself if he wanted to know, as it was not their place to tell. He already tried asking once, but the cook never answered. The whole situation kinda hurt, but at least showed him that the cook didn't trust him as much as the others.

It hurt for another reason too. One that Zoro decided to bury deep down the moment he noticed it. The Cook would never like him this way, so it was no use holding on to those feelings.

Unfortunately his mission involved watching the lovesick cook almost 24/7. That's how he learned that the blond sometimes hummed to himself as he cooked, that he had incredible skills with his kitchen knives, that he sometimes played with the chain attatched to his belt when he was nervous and couldn't smoke, that he sometimes cursed in another language (wich was unfairly cute) or spoke said language with Robin or that he often let Chopper and Luffy taste the excess batter if he baked a cake or that he usually ate alone after the crew left the galley, leaning on the ship's wall with closed eyes and a smile on his lips that Zoro never saw before (also unfairly cute). The feelings did not stay buried very long.

But then they got to Sabaody, Kuma happened and in the chaos of it all Zoro forgot about his mission for the first time in months. He never forgot about his feelings though, not even in the years that followed.

Two long years and some more chaos later their crew was finally back on one ship and on their way to the New World. It was easy for Zoro to fall right back into his old dynamic with the shitty cook. Still teasing and bickering at all times, tho it felt like some tiny thing had changed about the cook's behavior. Sure his appearance had also changed and Zoro could have sworn there was something new hidden under the blond man's stupid dress shirt, but the most noticeable thing for him was the way their teasing had changed. At times he swore the cook sounded almost fond while calling him some insult. Even more so when he did in his other language. French as Zoro had learned from Robin. The mysterious smile she gave him upon his question still confused him. He only asked what language she and the cook spoke, not that it had anything to do with trying to understand it. That plan had to be put on the back burner for now as Zoro still had his failing mission of finding out about the nosebleeding shithead's not so secret tattoo. It was almost unfair that everybody else had seen it, except him. The swordsman felt his frustration grow bigger, clawing at his sanity. Did he only imagine it? Was that why nobody told him what it was? No, he was sure he saw a red vaguely round something on the Cook's chest that looked too perfect to be a bruise.

He couldn't think about it for too long though, as the image of dartbrows without his shirt led to very different thoughts. Many of them including the cook with way more exposed skin than just his chest and leading to Zoro sneaking off to take cold showers more often than not. At least that meant less complaining about his apparent smell, mostly from the one person who was responsible. Not that Zoro cared much about that but it was nice.

The more time he spent pursuing his mission, the more clumsy he got in his attempts to get the cook shirtless. To add to Zoro's embarrassment the cook caught on to him, although not entirely. The swordsman still refused to admit his full body shudder after another fruitless effort to get the potato peeler shirtless. This time the cook had fought back, leaning in close to whisper "If you want to see me shirtless so bad, go ask like a good boy" with an audible smirk. That threw Zoro off for the rest of the week. He still wouldn't ask the cook, that would mean admitting defeat. And so he tried it his usual way again and again and again.

Until he had enough. Enough of his own increasingly stupid ideas, enough of his friends asking what the hell his problem was, enough of the cook's teasing that bordered on flirting by now. Since when was that bastard into guys? Not that Zoro was complaining but it only added to the chaos swirling in his mind. He needed to get his thoughts back on track if he wanted to get answers. So he hid himself in the crows nest, the repetitive movements of his training getting rid of all the juvenile ideas in his head. He trained all day until there were only two thoughts left.

1. Find out if the cook has a tattoo once and for all

2. Find out if the cook is into guys

Zoro decided to get both answers at the same time when he saw the cook approaching the bathroom. He quickly made his way down from the crows nest, thanking whatever gods that it was late and most of the crew in their respective rooms. With a few confident strides he made his way to the bathroom, finding the door unlocked. Taking a deep breath he opened it and stepped inside right as he heard water rushing. This was it. He did the one thing he never thought he'd do. The pervy cook must have rubbed off on him. He muttered a silent curse at the image his mind conjured upon his thought and instead focused on toeing off his boots as quiet as possible.

With one last deep breath the swordsman finally stepped into the bathroom, eyes trained on the cook that stood under shower spray with his back towards the intruder. Zoro quickly crossed the last bit of distance between them, not caring if his clothes got soaked. He didn't hear the literal squeak escaping the cook as he spun him around, carefully yet firmly pinning his hands above his head. He didn't care for the fact that he was very much within reach of his deadly legs. He didn't care for the fact that the man infront of him was naked. No, all he did care for was right there. Zoro didn't imagine it. The shitty lovesick excuse of a cook had a tattoo and it did things to him.

It was right over his heart, red and black contrasting against his pale skin.

A rose and underneath...no. fucking. way.

Zoro first thought he imagined it or that it was part of the rose, but no. Right underneath it were four letters, a name.

'Sora'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay so that's all for now, but don't worry I am actively working on a part 2 because I had a loooot of ideas for Sanji's tattoos. Yes plural🤭. If you're curious you can listen to 'Rose Tattoo' by Dropkick Murphys because that song heavily inspired the entire thing. Maybe you can guess what else he has a tattoo for~😊

[anonymous-rendezvous]

An Unconventional Relationship

💛 Luca Kaneshiro x GN!Reader

✦ — Written by Mod S 👿. Beta Read and Edited by Mod I ✨.

✧ — Contains: Humor, strangers to friends to ???, & open ended

✦ — Word count: 3.3k+ | Ao3

Based on these prompts - "You're lucky you're cute." "Wait, you think I'm cute?"

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

The sun is just beginning to dip below the horizon as you take your usual route home after work. “Hmm, maybe I should order something for dinner…I don’t feel like cooking, plus I’m pretty sure I still have to do the dishes. Ugh, curse you past me!” You trudged your way down the street, practically sulking as you walked. This was virtually routine for you at this point: getting off work, walking home, debating about dinner, sleeping, repeat. It was a pretty average life, and you accepted it wholeheartedly; the motions and all.

Well, it had been pretty average until a fairly strange encounter happened; the monotonous routine led you to make a very unusual… friend(?) roughly half a year ago. You can still recall the night vividly; the events playing through your mind are more similar to a show than an experience that had happened to you.

You had worked overtime resulting in you leaving work much later than you normally did. The moon was already high in the sky as you attempted to rush home. That was cut short when you were suddenly pulled into an alleyway; a knife pointed right at your neck. Like any sane person, you were about to give the person all your money, until – inches from your face – you see your attacker get punched straight in the jaw. The force sent him tumbling further into the alley. Hardly having the time to process anything, you didn’t notice that the nice stranger had proceeded to pull you away, two people dressed similarly to bodyguards rushing past you towards the mugger.

“Are you okay?” With the moment of calm, you took in your savior’s form. Broad, blonde, a very expensive-looking suit and matching hat that almost hid his lavender eyes from view, and from what few words he spoke; an Australian accent.

“U–um…” You quickly collected yourself, looking down to take a deep breath before thanking the stranger. “Yes, I’m fine. Uhh, thank you for that, by the way. You sure got a punch on you.” Before you can mentally smack yourself for being so awkward, he laughs, causing you ease.

“Well, thanks! I pride myself on my good punches! Oh, but do you need a ride home? Don’t want you to get mugged for a second time tonight. Lots of unsavory characters walking around during this time.”

“Really? Well, sure, a ride would be nice! Although, in exchange, I’d like to know the name of my savior.”

He takes off his hat, and brings it to his chest, letting you see his face without obstruction. “Heh, I can’t give you my full name, but you can just call me Luca, okay?”

You accepted his generous offer, and he did, in fact, drop you off safely. Ever since then, he’d occasionally pull next to you in his very expensive-looking car to check up on you. Hell, sometimes you’d run into him on your later shifts, and every time he’d offer to take you home. In his words, “To make sure you don’t get mugged again, you know?”. Honestly, you have no clue why he cares so much about you. He dresses so expensively, his car looks like it costs more than your entire life’s savings, and he has what you assume are bodyguards. He seemed like someone very important. So why is he constantly coming back to check on your safety?

This question loops back into your brain again as you walk, so much so you don’t even notice the car that pulls next to you. It’s not until the person rolls down their window and calls, “Hey!” that you snap back to reality, head-turning quickly as they stop. You notice there are two people in the car, and they look very similar to the same bodyguards who were with Luca the night he saved you. “Heya, you're the Boss’s friend, right? He wanted us to come pick you up.”

“Pick me up?” You blink in confusion, shuffling closer to the car and leaning toward the window in order to talk clearly. “For what? I don’t remember us making plans or anything…” You rack your forgetful brain for a moment, but nothing comes up. Hell, you’d have probably made a memo on your phone about something like this.

“He made dinner plans so he could talk to you. Said something about feeling bad that he hasn’t had the time to properly talk to you.” The bodyguard has to hold back a laugh at the face you make, waving their gloved hand in front of your face to get your attention again. “He also wanted to make sure we tell you that you don’t have to come if you have prior plans.”

Shaking your head, you respond, “He’s very lucky I don’t have any plans. I’m not gonna turn down a free meal. I’ll meet up with him.” Lowering your voice to a mumble, you speak aloud to yourself, “Lucky too that I had no clue what to eat today…” With your confirmation, you hear the car unlock and, with slight hesitation, you slide into the back seat. As soon as you're all buckled in, they take off.

It’s not long before you realize the car is heading toward an area of the city that you rarely go to. Looking out the window, you watch as the car moves through the richer part of town. Fancy hotels and lights everywhere, you even pass a fountain show going on outside. When the car suddenly stops, your eyes move to the two bodyguards in the front seat, who are already getting out. You scramble to reach for the door, but before you can grab the handle, one of them has already opened the door for you.

“Don’t worry, I got it. My partner here will show you to the Boss. I gotta park the car, then I’ll be in there as well.” You give them a nod as you get out, patting yourself down to look more presentable; and to shake off your embarrassment. Looking up at the restaurant, your jaw almost drops at just the exterior. Suddenly, you feel like you might need more than just a pat down.

Now listen, you've been to some pretty nice places before. However, this part of town is way too expensive for you to even think about coming here too often. So when you take in what you know to be the most expensive restaurant in the city, your nerves start to settle in. You're brought out of your thoughts by the car starting and taking off down the road as the other guard calls to you. “Please, this way. The Boss will be super happy to see you. And don’t worry about being underdressed. I’m sure the Boss doesn’t care.”

Pouting a bit, you begin to follow them. ‘Yeah, but that doesn’t mean the other people won’t think that…’ Preparing yourself for the telltale heat of judging stares, you keep your head down as you follow the guard inside. Eyes only watching the nice red carpet and the backs of the movement of the bodyguard's brown dress shoes – preoccupying your eyes with the stitches in the leather. It’s not long before you arrive in the section where Luca is waiting, only looking up when the guard announces so. “Here we are.” You look up and take in your surroundings, eyes widening at the amount of gold detailing in the room. The lights are warm and dim to give the space a sophisticated yet cozy atmosphere. Something you take in almost immediately is that there is no one else in this section of the restaurant, the only one being the person your gaze falls onto next. As soon as Luca hears his guard talk, he sets his menu down and gives you one of the most infectious smiles that you’ve ever seen. Your lips barely refrained from smiling just as widely, settling on a small polite smile and a wave.

The blonde opens his arms in welcome from his seat, energy radiating from his voice. “I’m so glad you could make it! I was so worried you’d have other plans since this was pretty sudden on my part. Next time, I promise I’ll get your opinion on future hangouts first.” Before he puts his arms down, he beckons you to sit, the chair across from him being pulled open by the bodyguard. “Come, sit. We can order and then finally have a proper conversation.”

You take the invitation, even if you are a bit nervous about what exactly is going on. After you sit and are pushed in, thanking the guard as they make their way to stand behind Luca’s seat. Picking up the menu, you immediately try your best not to physically cringe at the prices. Flipping through the pages, you go all the way back to the appetizers – probably the only thing you can afford on the menu. Luca seems to notice, and he tilts his head, voice laced with confusion.

“Oh, are you not hungry? Hm?”

Looking up at him, you give a nervous smile. “Uhh, well, everything here is pretty out of my usual price range. The only thing here that I can really afford is a soft drink and a small appetizer…” You’re about to wave it off as fine until he puts his hand up, stopping you from continuing.

“Oh! Don’t worry about that. I invited you so I’ll be paying. It’s the least I can do for springing this on you. So order anything, I got it.” He smiles, then looks back down at the menu.

Okay, now you're really suspicious. No one this loaded just… does this. Or if they do, they have a catch. Forcing your expression to remain neutral, you decide you’ll ask when dinner arrives. Even if this is immensely suspicious, he doesn’t seem to have anything malicious planned. Although you haven’t known him long, nothing has really set off immediate red flags in your mind. He’s been super kind and if this is a kidnapping or something, he wouldn’t go through all this trouble. He’d have just done it by now – he’s had more than enough opportunities. Taking a deep breath, you settle on a meal and let him talk you into sharing a bottle of some high-class wine with him. When the server arrives to take your orders, you notice the other guard has returned from parking the car, making their way to Luca standing behind him next to the other one. You're too busy giving your order and feeling nervous about the establishment, that you don’t notice how uneasy the server is; constantly looking to the side and shifting nervously. He scurries off pretty quickly after your orders have been filled, and before you can ponder it, you’re pulled into a conversation with the blonde. 

Luca lets you talk about your life first, and you're surprised at how intently he listens. It’s not like you lived anything remarkable as he must have, but when he listens to you speak, you see the genuine spark of interest in his eyes. The wine arrives in the middle of your story, and you're about to thank the person, but they leave so quickly that you barely have time to. Maybe they saw you talking and just didn’t wanna interrupt or that could just be how the service is here. Either way, you finish talking about yourself before turning the questions back to him.

When Luca starts telling you what he does, you make sure to give him the same level of attention he gave you. He tells you how he’s the owner of a casino; explaining that they have passed it down to him through the family. Well, that explains why he looks so expensive. The bodyguards are still a bit weird to you, but you’ve heard that children of rich families tend to get kidnapped so that could be explained away. After he talks about his family business, you are actually glad he starts to talk about his hobbies and interests. The longer you talk to him, the more you realize just how down-to-earth he is. Admittedly helping you calm down as the minutes roll by.

The food gets to you just as he finishes talking about how he used to surf, and you can’t help but express how talented he seems to be. “Wow, you have so much skill under your belt. If you didn’t own the casino, you’d still be set for life.”

Luca laughs shyly, sipping at his wine. “Well, most of it my parents had me take classes for. They wanted me and my sister to be prepared, you know?” He sets his glass down and gestures to your food; changing the subject. “I hope you enjoy the food, by the way! That looks really good. I might have to get that next time I come here.”

You chuckle, picking up your utensils. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you my premium review of it after I’m done.” He laughs and follows suit in your actions. You both dig into your food, and you have to hold yourself back from letting out a noise of delight. This food was unlike anything you’ve ever had, really tasting like the high price it was. Being so engrossed by the food, you almost forget what you wanted to ask Luca, your brain circling back to the suspicions you had earlier. You wait a little while, but when you think enough time has passed, you call the blonde’s name. “Luca?” He pauses in his sentence, looking at you with concern at the seriousness of your tone. 

“Y–Yes? Is something wrong?” His lavender eyes scan over you, trying to get any hint as to what might be bothering you. 

“No! It’s nothing wrong, per se." You immediately reassure, seeing how he physically deflated. Luca perks back up, a look of anticipation on his face, encouraging you to continue, "I have an important question to ask you." He gives you a firm nod. Seeing his silverware down to give you his full attention. “Okay, this is gonna be a very uh… interesting question, but I have to ask. Is this like some sort of, uhhh, fancy dinner to win me over for favors? Like… convincing me to be your sugar baby or something?” The blonde in front of you seems to choke on a breath, one guard coming up to pat his back. Glancing at the three people in front of you, you realize there's a look of shock written across each of their faces. When Luca gets over his coughing fit, he looks back up at you, starting to chuckle, believing you're joking. He stops, however, when he takes in your serious expression – worry in your eyes – and quickly explains himself.

“No no no! This is nothing like that!” He’s a bit frantic with his tone, waving his hands in exaggeration as he speaks. “I just wanted to have a genuine conversation with you. I…” He pauses for a moment, brows furrowed as he thinks over his next words. “I’ve felt bad that I’ve never gotten to talk to you properly all those times I would pass you and say ‘Hi’.” His gaze re-meets yours across the table. “This is just a normal dinner with a friend, I promise.” 

With a sigh, you cross your arms, “You realize how…” you struggle for the right word, “odd that is right? Like, you look like you own a private island and seem very comfy in places like this.” One of your hands gestures to the lavish restaurant around you. “I’m just a regular person you saved once from getting mugged. I'm nobody. What reason would a rich person like you have to constantly come to talk to me if not for some other motive?” Honestly, you almost feel bad about the way you're interrogating him. Though this is something to be questioned, and as nice and sweet as he is, it’s still good to have a sense of caution. Especially with the wealthy. 

Luca’s silent for a minute, seeming to think over what he wants to say; eyes downcast, staring at his half-finished food. It’s only a few silent moments until his lavender eyes look back up at you, their determination shocking you. “Because you didn’t treat me like that when I helped you.” You blink for a second, confused, tilting your head as he continues to speak. “Well… how do I put this… You just seemed like a nice person who wouldn’t judge someone no matter their status, so I wanted to get to know you? I–It’s honestly nothing like a ruse or a scheme. Trust me, being in this business, many people do try to deceive me. I’m an excellent judge of character because of that, and you just seemed very kind and down-to-earth. It gave me the push to try to befriend you.”

As he speaks, you can feel warmth start to pool in your cheeks, causing you to look away, not expecting that answer. After a moment, you let out a deep breath and then turned your gaze back to him. “Well, honestly, that’s pretty surprising." You say with a light laugh. Slouching back into your seat, you continue. "I’m sure all of this is normal for you, but maybe when we hang out in the future, these places–” your hands raise to gesture around the restaurant once more– “are not really casual for people like me.” 

His eyes seem to light up a bit, a small crooked smile on his face. “So… you still wanna try to be my friend?” 

You have to hold back a giggle at how closely he resembles a puppy at this moment. Uncrossing your arms and picking up your utensils as you return to your meal. “Mhm, you're not a bad person. I can tell that you really are interested in my life, and if you did have any bad intentions, you would’ve done something by now. Plus, you’re lucky you’re cute. Hard to say no to the puppy dog eyes you’ve been giving me.”

He hears his guards snicker behind him, but chooses to ignore it as his cheeks begin to flush. “You think I’m cute?” He watches as you laugh, smiling at him as you take a bite of your food.

“Mmn, this is really good. Do you wanna try some? I can give you a bite.” Luca pouts a bit as you change the subject, but nods nonetheless. He’s happy as you converse for the rest of your meal, talking about nothing and everything. It’s refreshing for you and him, as you act like equals. Feeling like friends.

The pair of you stay for a while, but eventually, you do tell him you have to work the next day. He, of course, offers to take you home, especially since you’d both had a bit of wine. With the moon smiling in the sky as the four of you leave the restaurant, and the surrounding street was lit up by dazzling lights. The bodyguards escort you to the car, giving them your address. The trip gives the two of you a chance to continue talking. Luca couldn’t help the smile on his face, content with just listening to you speak, and this time remembering to give you his number so you could make future plans together. It wasn’t long before the car pulled up to your home. Luca, ever the gentleman, helped you out and up to your door. When you finally say goodbye and wave them all off, you feel warm, and you’re sure he shares the same sentiment.

To Luca, this experience feels like a blessing to him. To have a normal conversation – a normal friend – in his unpredictable life. And to you, this was an exciting change to your routine; being able to make such an excitable and interesting new friend. You only saw good things ahead, and you hoped that it’d continue to get better from here.

It could only get better from here. Right?

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Likes are nice and we do appreciate them. However, comments/feedback is what really motivates us to continue writing. Even just a keyboard smash or emojis are a joy to see!

We do not allow our stories to be translated or reposted/shared anywhere. The only places our stories should be found are on Ao3 or Tumblr. Nowhere else.

[redactedgender]

there’s a honey

ao3 link here

(15k words)

some tags: Porn with some plot ; Switching ; Flirting ; Awkwardness ; we love an enby who uses gendered language in genderfucky ways ; guy and his inability to stfu /pos ; No beta we die like xavier ; yall have met crow already. let me introduce you to sage ; Overuse of italics ; so many italics

its finally here! my 15k word guy/honey smut :] today is also (what i consider) my one year redacted listening anniversary. this series has meant a lot to me during the past year, and im very happy to have found out abt it when i did.

so, here's a fic that i hadn't originally planned on posting for my one year, but hey, guess now's as good a time as any to post it!

a reminder: this fic is 18+/NSFW.

a snippet under the cut

They hated to admit it, but kissing Guy was very quickly becoming their favorite thing to do. Not that they would ever admit that to him, of course. They had an image to maintain. But in their mind, they could think about kissing their boyfriend all they wanted. The quick pecks in the morning before he rushed off to work, the slow kisses they would share while he cooked dinner (because despite working almost every day in a pizza place making pizzas for sometimes ten hours or more in a single day, Guy liked cooking for the two of them), the multiple pecks across their face as he tried to distract them from something, mostly their work. There was something about Guy that made them act like— this . Like some kind of punch-drunk teeanger experiencing their first real relationship. Butterflies in their stomach, face constantly flushed anytime they looked at him, feeling flustered when he would say their name, all of the stuff that they had never experienced before. Guy surely was giving them the real “boyfriend experience” that they had only read about in high school. Speaking of their boyfriend— Sage looked up from their phone at the sound of the bell ringing out as the door into Max’s Rustic Pizza opened, and rolled their eyes at Guy’s frazzled grin and wide-eyed stare at his partner. Sage was leaning against the hood of their car, headphones on and blasting music, though it had been turned off and the headphones had been moved to hang around Sage’s neck. Guy looked them up and down, eyebrows wiggling enticingly, and Sage made a disgusted little noise they didn’t mean, which only made Guy laugh. Like Sage wasn’t just wearing jeans and a hoodie. He was ridiculous sometimes. “Hey there, hot stuff!” Guy called out, leering closer to his partner and arching an eyebrow. “Who are you waiting for, huh? Certainly someone as hot as you managed to bag someone as equally hot, right? I just know they’ve gotta be charming and handsome, and extremely funny, too!” He grinned, and Sage elbowed him in the arm, not hard, but sharp enough to make him recoil back and hold his arm. “Ow! I was complimenting you, what’d you do that for?” “Never call me ‘hot stuff’ again, first of all,” they retorted, adjusting their position against their car and tugging their hoodie around their shoulders tighter as a sharp wind tore through the air. Even though it was April and most of the days were getting warmer and warmer, the occasional chilly day still popped up, and today was one of them. “Second of all, I’m waiting for you , so I can go back to the apartment and finally play Zelda since you wanted to watch me play it instead of playing it yourself.” “Aww, c’mon, honey,” Guy crooned, resting one hand on the hood of the car and leaning his hip against it, tilting his head to peer at them with his (really fucking pretty, goddamn this fucking guy—) hazel eyes. “You know why I like watching you play it—you get so into the game, it’s adorable!” “It’s adorable when I’m screaming ‘fuck’ at the Lynels for killing me for the fifth time in a row? Or that one time I got so angry when I fell off a cliff and clipped through the world and lost all my gear that I had to go into my room before I punched our TV?” They deadpanned, eyebrow raised in question, and Guy nodded and grinned, biting his bottom lip like he was trying (and failing) to contain his excitement.  “Mhm!” He brought his other hand to scratch at his head, a habit he had. “I mean, you’re just so good at the game, so it’s hardly fair for me to even play it! It’s much better as a viewing experience anyway, especially with my head in your lap. I mean, the only way it would be an even better viewing experience would maybe include me on my knees. Or maybe with my head between your—” Sage slapped Guy’s arm again, ignoring the way their face felt flushed at what their boyfriend was insinuating. “Not in public, you—!”

continue reading here!

[vinsmokewife]

begging you

day 15 of a very zosan centric kinktober - dubcon

Sanji is in quaratine until his heat cycle finishes for his own safety. Zoro finds himself drawn to his room due to the smell coming from it. A very heat intoxiacated Sanji begs him to mate him and Zoro cannot say no.

tw as this is dubcon. it wasn't the ABO fic I wanted to write but I am thinking of writing a proper fanfic but it's on the list for when kinktober is over.

this can be read as being opla as it is set before they get chopper

So funny thing about being on a pirate ship with no doctor is that things can start to go downhill fast. This is especially true when one of your crewmates doesn’t inform people that they are an omega who relies on suppressants to keep their heats at bay. 

This was true for Sanji who didn’t feel the need to tell his crew that he was an omega that took suppressants to stop himself from going into heat. Maybe he was too caught up in the moment to realise what he had not told the others. He was the only omega on ship. Although gender roles would tell you otherwise, Nami is a beta. So is Luffy for that matter. Luffy didn’t actually see the whole problem. Usopp and Zoro on the other hand were alpha’s and saw a slight issue with Sanji not informing the others of this. 

Well, it kind of interferes with them. See, they didn’t have to worry about the real possibility that everyone living in close proximity might cause a reaction of natural instincts, especially since everyone is so close together. Well, until now, they were all sleeping in the same room.  

It was decided that either until they reach somewhere with a doctor, or the heat wears off, Sanji would have to quarantine from everyone else. See, a doctor would be able to fix this up. 

It had caused a little bit of discomfort among the crew...apart from Luffy and Nami who weren’t bothered or affected by it. Nami had to basically play messenger between the two parties. The other problem was food. Sanji couldn’t cook under quarantine. 

Usopp appeared to not be overly affected by it. Edgy, as he didn’t want to do anything that was out of pocket. He ended up distracting himself with making new weapons in a room far away from the quarantine room.  

Zoro on the other hand liked to stay on the upper deck. Problem was, he couldn’t get away from the smell. Heats all smelt different. Pheromones were different depending on the person. Sanji’s pheromones smelt...sweet. Like baking or like sweets were just coming out of the oven. Zoro, every time he had to get a waft of it wanted to follow the scent and... now, he had to resist the urge. It’s just a biological response. 

He overheard Nami talking about Sanji to Luffy who, despite not actually understanding the situation, was concerned that Sanji was under the weather and well...apparently, he was not doing too well.  Which is an unfortunate part of being an Omega... when your biological needs are not being met, your body punishes you for not meeting those urges. Zoro doesn’t know what that’s like obviously but...it sounded like hell. 

Still, every time Nami came up from quarantine, she brought that smell with her. The sweet cake like smell. It was quite faint now, but he could imagine it was rather...pungent downstairs. 

He had to find out...for curiosity sake. It wasn’t as if he was going into the room. So, he made the decision to go further downstairs into the basement and he was right, there was a very close pungent smell of cakes and sweets. Zoro tried to make his foots quiet as he approaches the door. He knew that Sanji would be behind that door. He approaches the door quietly and, in the silence, something cut through the air. He listened to the sound a little more and it sounded like...sounds of discomfort.  

Zoro knew better than to let some silly urges get in the way. He didn’t even like Sanji all that much anyway. But an omega was an omega, and his alpha side was urging him to do what he was supposed to do and breed the omega inside...which he couldn’t do but his feet wouldn’t move. He was glued to the floor. 

He couldn’t listen to this anymore. If he did, he was going to do something that he knew himself he shouldn’t do but his body would not allow him to move. 

Turning, he went to walk away when he heard the door open. He froze. 

“Nami? Is that you?” 

He hadn’t heard Sanji’s voice for a day now and it definitely sounded nothing like how it was before. His voice sounded so hoarse before. Zoro stopped in his tracks. It would be easier to ignore him and walk away but his alpha side couldn’t do that so he answered against his best judgement 

“No. It’s me,” Zoro’s voice hitched but only slightly, “I was just coming to see if you were okay...” 

Bullshit and Sanji probably knew it. When did he ever check on him when he was injured? Not out of any malice or anything but they respected each other to know that they would both be okay when something bad happened. There was a beat of a silence before Zoro knew that Sanji probably knew that he was coming down here based on his urges and Zoro suddenly felt a bit of annoyance at himself. He was better than this.  

“I... can see the answer anyway...I’m going back up-”  

As Zoro was turning to leave, he could hear the door opening more and that waft of pheromones got stronger. He held his breath in that moment. 

“Y-you don’t have to go...why don’t you come inside?” 

Zoro knew himself that this wasn’t wise. As soon as he ends up in Sanji’s room, it will be a death trap for both of them. He won’t be able to hold his urges and he will do something he regrets. Although, he wonders if Sanji is thinking the same. The strong smell of pheromones and the way Sanji was inviting him into his room...was this an invitation? 

“I don’t know how wise that would be. You...You know what I am, don’t you?” 

Sanji didn’t answer for a second. Zoro turned around and was only met with the door slightly opened and he wasn’t outside. Neither of them would cross the threshold of the door. 

“You...You’ve made things worse by coming down here. I could smell you when you decided to come down here,”  

Zoro didn’t realise he was giving off such a strong scent either. He didn’t know what to say in response other than, “Sorry...I didn’t realise I was-” 

“If you leave me now, you’re just going to make things worse for me,” Sanji replied. There was a hint of desperation inside of his voice. He sounded a little...intoxicated actually. Like he wasn’t himself, but Zoro knew he hadn’t had a drop of alcohol. Was it all the pheromones between the two men? “You’re going to have to come in and...” 

No. Don’t say it. 

Zoro did the only thing he could which was turn a heel back and head towards the door, “Do you hear yourself? You are about to ask me of all people to...mate with you?” Zoro stood outside the door but again, didn’t cross the threshold, “This is insane and your own fault. Why didn’t you tell us? You knew you were travelling with two alphas on board. Why would you endanger yourself like this?” 

Again, a beat of silence as Sanji was likely thinking about what to say to him. He doubted that Sanji had much ability right now. It was...known the Omegas tend to become intoxicated with their need to mate. He didn’t think that Sanji actually probably even wanted this right now. Zoro wasn’t even sure if he wanted too either.  

“I’m sorry! I didn’t think about this! Fuck, I don’t need you to lecture me. You can barely stay away from me like this...” Sanji groaned in a moment of clarity, but it went away quickly, “Your smell is just going to linger here. I’m going to be in absolute hell if you don’t do something about it. Please, Zoro. I’m begging you,” 

The door opened more, and it was the first time that Zoro got a look at the man in question. Sanji looked...bedraggled. He looked tired and his skin looked red. He looked like he would be hot to touch. He looked like he’d been rolling in bed doing God knows what. Most importantly he just didn’t look like himself... 

He reached out for Zoro who just stared at him as if he was a ghost or something. Sanji’s hand, which was hold, held onto his arms and made a pulling motion. 

“You want to breed me. You’re an alpha. I know you want to. Please...I’m so tired,”  

Zoro felt himself at at a crossroad. He knew that Sanji likely wasn’t himself and if he did breed him, Sanji would likely come to his senses and be mad at him. However, he could see that Sanji just wanted relief and... 

Wait...why is he considering it? And why were his feet taking him into the room? 

As Zoro went into the room, the smell hit him in an overwhelming capacity. It smelt of Sanji, but also smelt of the undeniable smell of slick and sweat which turned him on. God, he was turned on. It was the first time he noticed how heavy his knot felt in his pants. 

“Have you...ever bred an omega?” Oh, look at that, Sanji was removing his clothes now. Well, it wasn’t like he was wearing much anyway. A bed shirt was all he seemed to be wearing which he was now taking off.  

Zoro shook his head, “Never.” 

Sanji looked at him before replying, “I’ve never been bred. So that makes two of us,” 

Zoro could only help but stare at Sanji. He’d never seen the blonde like this. He’d never even considered seeing him like this. Sanji was a pain; a nuisance who threw himself at women and yet, he was an omega. Now, Zoro was seeing him differently and right now...he knew he was done for. His knot was too heavy for him to back out. 

“Are you just going to stare at me?” Sanji’s tone went to its usual annoyed, but he seemed to be flushed from Zoro’s eyes baring holes into him. Sanji sat on the edge of the bed and spread his legs which.... oh shit. Zoro’s eyes at once went to that slicked hole. Sanji was rock hard, but slick covered his thighs and made him very...inviting, “Or are you going to breed me?” 

Zoro took a second before beginning to undo his pants. Sanji watched in absolute delight as Zoro’s cock sprung out. He was huge with an even bigger and heavier knot at the base. Any Omega would die for an alpha with such a knot.  

“I... Are you sure...?”  

Once they started, there was no going back, and Zoro was of sound mind to know that. Sanji was not behaving himself and he knew that all he wanted right now was to make sure he wasn’t taking advantage of him...but when he was begging and looking so delectable... 

“Fuck. Are you going to keep hesitating or are you going to fuck me?” But apparently Sanji was becoming impatient with him, so Zoro approached the Omega and grabbed his legs and hoisted them over his shoulder before leaning in and teasing the head of his cock against Sanji’s wet hole which.... he then pushed in. 

“Ah- Alpha~”  

Being that Sanji was so wet, it made this a whole lot easier for Zoro and a whole lot nicer. Zoro couldn’t contain the moan that came from him when he nestled himself in that slick hole. He couldn’t believe that no one had wanted to mate with Sanji before. Even though Zoro had absolutely no one to compare him to, Sanji felt amazing around his cock. Tight and wrapped around him nicely. As if Sanji was made for his cock. 

Zoro pulled his cock back only to push it back in again. This was it. This would be the end for him. There was no way he’d ever be able to go back from this. His rhythm became fast and hard. He would threaten to slip his knot back in but then would pull himself back out. Zoro had his face buried in Sanji’s shoulder as his hips fucked him with wild abandon. He hadn’t realised it yet, but Sanji had wrapped his arms around Zoro’s back to keep him there and didn’t want to let him go. Every now and then, Zoro would bare his teeth against Sanji’s shoulder.  

If it wasn’t for the fact he was already doing something that dubious, he would have sunk his teeth into Sanji’s shoulder, but he knew the importance of doing such a thing. That was an act of claiming someone as your own and he knew for a fact that this right here was already pushing it too far. 

“That’s it...good Omega...taking my cock like this...think you can take this big knot too?” Zoro grunted against Sanji’s ear as his hips went faster and faster, the sound of loud slapping and moaning being the only thing between them There was nothing that would be able to take Zoro away from Sanji. He was going to breed him if he had anything to say anything about it.  

“You’re going to look so good with my babies...” Zoro groaned into Sanji’s ear. He knew in reality that neither of them likely wanted to have children but the fact that neither of them were using any protection. Sanji was at serious risk of having his babies...and why did Zoro love that, “I’m going to fill you up so full so you’re going to fucking have my babies..” 

“Ah! Alpha...” Sanji groaned throwing his head back, “Please... I want your knot...” It wasn’t long until he cried out and clenched his hole around Zoro’s cock, milking him and pulling him in more which meant that Zoro had no choice but to give Sanji what he wanted by pushing his large knot inside Sanji’s hole which made Sanji cry out more. 

Zoro groaned as he began to fill Sanji with his hot cum. His knot now kept them together as Sanji collapsed against the bed. Zoro rested his head against Sanji’s shoulder as the pair of them panted together. Zoro moved so he could go on the bed and pull Sanji close to him so they were together...and totally not so he could hold him. That alpha instinct made him want to hold Sanji, protect him while they were together.  

Because of that, he kissed Sanji’s hair and wrapped his arms around him, “Good Omega...good,” 

[gratuiciel]

@ttkinnie here's the one-shot that's ready for beta-ing!

and here are the warnings: major character death, cheating, suicide, mentions of sexual assault, alcohol use, smut, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, kisaki is his own warning

relationship: kisaki/takemichi

word count: about 5k words

summary: set a few years after the epilogue, during the final timeline. kisaki invites his two childhood friends for dinner. takemichi shows up alone.

i put it under a read more let's gooo

It had been a while since he'd cooked dinner for himself or someone else. In retrospect, Kisaki should have expected it would turn out poorly. Fortunately for his guests, he did fully expect that, although the smoke alarm ringing out in the middle of an important phone call was a bit of a surprise. In any case, he made the right choice having a spare dinner delivered to his apartment for tonight. He sets it on the table as if that had been his plan all along, windows wide open to get rid of the vague burning smell still lingering in the air.

The evening is warm but not suffocating, gentle winds suited for the end of spring. Kisaki takes some time to appreciate this, as he will likely forget to do so again for the next couple of months. Somehow, he has to be reminded that life can be good and beautiful despite it all and somehow, he can only remember that lesson when he thinks about his two best friends.

The doorbell rings. He closes the windows, fixes his shirt's collar and walks to the door. On the other side, a man in semi-formal dress. Alone.

"Hinata isn't with you?"

"Sorry, she won't be able to make it tonight. Too much work at the hospital these days," Takemichi scratches the back of his neck apologetically.

"That's too bad," Kisaki replies, acting like those words didn't cause a spike of adrenaline. "I hope she isn't overworking herself."

"Aren't you doing that as well?" His friend playfully scolds him, while setting his contribution to the dinner on top of the table.

Takemichi brought the alcohol, as always. Cheap beer, even though Kisaki has a whole cabinet of the world's best liquors on display, free for him to choose. But his friend simply never drinks expensive alcohol.

Kisaki pretends he doesn't know why. He drinks that cheap beer with him, straight from the can. It warms him just as well as any other spirit, and even the taste of it is something he's grown to appreciate. It is Takemichi's favorite brand, after all.

They catch up on everything, anecdotes from their respective works, movies they've seen recently, books they just started, and of course discussions about their mutual friends.

"Did you know Chifuyu, Baji and Kazutora are officially a throuple, now?"

"Is that what they call it?" Kisaki dubitatively pushes up his glasses, aware of the fact he sounds like a grumpy old man right now. He passes the blame on to his line of business, definitely less up-to-date with cultural shifts than the movie industry. "Most of my collaborators at work can barely fathom the concept of same-sex couples. Hearing that word might give them a heart attack."

"Wait, they don't know about Koko?"

"Inupi always dresses up and wears high heels during parties. Since he never says a word, I suppose they believe he's a very quiet and meek woman."

"Pfft!" Takemichi tries, and fails, to hold back a laugh. Tipsiness gives his face and ears a pinkish glow. It has been months since they last saw each other. Kisaki sometimes wonders if the feelings will fade away, eventually. If one day he'll look at this man laugh and his heart will keep quiet. It would seem today is not that day.

❦

Takemichi sits back against the couch with a sigh and cracks open another beer. Kisaki offers him a cigar, lights up the tip while his friend holds it between his fingers, in front of his lips.

In his mind, the same scene plays out with their roles reversed. Kisaki is the one smoking an expensive cigar. Takemichi holds the lighter. He is the one whose hands shake a little as he brings the flame close to his face.

The visions started early. Dream-like, fleeting thoughts, just on the edge of consciousness. It took him a little while to tame them, make them reveal their secrets.

Sometime in his teens, Kisaki reads a book about the War of Troy, a line about how the cause of the conflict was a woman, and in the back of his mind he can see a girl lying on the concrete, face covered in blood and bruises, legs wide open and more bruises between them. He asks himself Did I do this? but finds no answer as the image fades. He rationalizes. No, I'm not physically strong enough to hurt somebody like that. Then, almost as an afterthought: And besides, I wouldn't want to hurt anyone like that either, he tries to reassure himself.

Days later, as he watches a stupid crime show ― it's cold outside and Hanma crashed in his room for the night ― the answer invites itself into his thoughts while a coroner examines this episode's victim. No, I did not do this. I wouldn't leave my DNA behind as evidence. That's why I made other people do it instead. He accepts that answer, even though he knows for a fact he never did such a thing in his whole life. He is thirteen, and above all terribly afraid his best friends will hate him once they figure out the truth.

Over the years, more visions came to him, more vivid as he learned to recognize their presence, hold them in place and ask them the right questions. While Toman collected victories over rival gangs, while his friends began to grow up and work towards their respective goals, he could see these twisted versions of them, destroying themselves and the ones they loved. They all seemed to curse his name. Takemichi cursed it the loudest.

Sitting next to him, Kisaki watches as he takes a drag and exhales the blue-grey smoke, staring at the ceiling. Taking advantage of this moment of inattention, he swiftly takes the cigar from his hand and fills his lungs with the same poison. Looking falsely offended by the theft, Takemichi tries to get it back, without success.

"Careful, or you're gonna burn the couch." Scolding him, Takemichi dives in an attempt to reach for it, and Kisaki lets him. He falls onto his back, Takemichi falls on top of him. Too easy. Hanma was the one who came up with that trick, and it never failed him. Or so he says.

Takemichi looks at him with an expression that is less one of surprise and more I knew you'd do that. Fondly. He then takes the cigar from his hand, flicks it over the ashtray on the table behind Kisaki's head, before sitting back and taking another drag from it. All the while straddling his waist. His hand resting upon Kisaki's heart. Kisaki may be able to control his expression, but not the way his pulse dances under his fingers.

They shouldn't be doing this. Obviously. Takemichi doesn't want to hurt his wife. Still. He puts away the cigar and bows forward, like an apology. With his hands over Kisaki's chest, he buries his face onto the couch, just above Kisaki's shoulder. A moment passes.

"I told Hina about us," Takemichi finally confesses. "That's why she didn't come today."

"I see."

"Sorry..."

"For what?"

"I made her cry."

Kisaki remembers, then. The words he had said on their wedding day. If you ever make her cry, I'll never forgive you. Half in jest, mostly a stupid attempt to soothe his own broken heart and act like he'd accepted his defeat. Thus ended their decades-long rivalry.

Lying under him still, Kisaki raises an arm and slides his hand over his back.

"I'm not the one you're supposed to apologize to. Besides, I'm just as guilty as you are."

A sigh is all the reply he gets.

"Are you going to cry?"

"I don't really cry anymore these days..."

"Then I encourage you to think of what Draken and Emma will do to you when Hinata tells them what you've done. And they won't be the only ones."

"Ha ha..." A weak laugh reaches his ear. "I'm so boned."

Kisaki moves his hand to the back of Takemichi's hair, running his fingers through the short, curly locks.

"Not necessarily. Isn't there still a way for you to go back in time?"

A cruel question to ask, but his friend cannot resent him for being curious. Still, his body tenses upon hearing the words. The next moment, Takemichi shakes his head. The answer is no. Kisaki feels like it might be a lie. He wraps both arms around his friend. Every comforting gesture, he learned from him.

Kisaki figured out the truth about the time leaps on his own. The memories of things he'd never done were evidence enough, although he could not entirely rule out some delusion of the mind. Takemichi's knowledge about people he shouldn't know and events that had yet to come were tangible proof that something was afoot. So he confronted him about it one day, in their late teens. Takemichi didn't deny it.

❦

In the autumn of 2017, Kisaki invites Takemichi over for a drink. Coincidentally, a new series of visions had been haunting his thoughts at around the same time. Memories from a past life, he knows what to call them by now. Takemichi sets a few cans of cheap beer on his table while Kisaki watches himself-from-another-time spike his glass with soporifics.

He does not ask how the newlywed life goes. He cares very little for how their mutual friends are doing right now. There's only one question on his mind.

"Why did you save me?"

Takemichi seems slightly surprised, which is rare enough. He doesn't reply, though.

"Was that out of pity?" Kisaki insists, feeling something like panic bubble up within. "Did you find me so pathetic you just had to intervene?"

He'd seen right through him, hadn't he? Even after Kisaki pointed a gun in his face, shot him, drugged him, made him kill. Every display of wealth and power, a disguise. His emptiness so richly adorned, no one dared to question him or why he did the things he did. Least of all himself.

Does Takemichi know how it ends for Kisaki each time? With a gun to his temple and a smile on his face. None of that really mattered, did it? He can't even bring himself to look guilty for everything he's done. His contrition is for one man only. That man is gone, now. He was a real hero, it turns out, super powers included. So none of that really mattered. Takemichi will fix everything and then come back to kill him. Another time, maybe.

But it never happened. Instead, his hero came back, took his hand and never let go.

Why in the world would he do that?

Kisaki feels two arms wrap themselves around him. Like breaking a spell, it snaps him out of his thoughts, back into the present, and the tears falling from his eyes make the world around a blurry mess. Was he crying, just now?

"A long time ago, I used to be terribly alone," Takemichi replies, his voice low. "I just kept everything to myself and lashed out however I could, mostly against people who had nothing to do with my own self-inflicted misery. Pathetic, right?"

Kisaki doesn't answer.

"And then I died. The end. Except I somehow survived and got another chance at life. So I decided I'd try to do something worthwhile for once in my worthless existence, and save the life of someone who didn't deserve to die. That's how it all started..."

Kisaki cuts him off.

"I deserved to die, didn't I?" Unlike Hinata. Unlike Draken unlike Baji unlike Kazutora unlike Taiju unlike Emma unlike Izana unlike Atsushi unlike Chifuyu unlike Mikey. Unlike Takemichi.

"Maybe. But I needed you alive." Kisaki shivers as his friend softly nuzzles the side of his neck, holding him tighter. "I saved you because I wanted to understand. I saved you because I thought we might be the same, deep down." A short pause. "And you know what? I don't regret it. I love you."

Vertigo. Kisaki has to hold on to him or else he'll surely fall. Pressed against his chest, Takemichi's heartbeat is just as fast as his own, both drumming furiously as if begging to be let out.

"What..." Kisaki's mouth is dry. "What kind of love are you talking about?"

"I don't know. We've been through so much."

"And Hinata?"

"I love her too. In a much simpler way."

"That's why you married her?"

"Yeah. Two guys can't get married in this country anyhow."

"Give me ten years and I'll change the law."

"Ha ha."

"I'm not joking."

"Yeah, I know."

Holding the sun in his arms would be less overwhelming. Kisaki has killed men with his own hands. They shake harder now than they ever did before.

"You realize... that there's no way I'm going to let you go back home tonight, right?"

"Of course," Takemichi replies. Of course.

Thus started their affair. Takemichi didn't want to lie to Hinata, but Kisaki didn't want her to know the truth. They both knew how important faithfulness was to her. In the end, he managed to convince Takemichi not to tell her anything.

They saw each other every now and then. Both well aware of their transgression, yet unable to put an end to it. So they compromised, swore not to cross certain lines. Barely took off their clothes, never kissed each other's lips. Hands only. This paradoxical distance, these self-imposed rules they somehow never broke, only made their desire stronger. Takemichi kept coming back for more. Kisaki was happy to oblige.

Within these walls, Takemichi belonged to him and him only. And since they couldn't reveal their bodies, they bared their heart instead. They would sometimes talk for hours on the pillow or silently hold each other through the night. Maybe that was an even worse transgression.

❦

Takemichi is lying next to him on the couch, half-asleep in his arms. Resting upon the ashtray, the cigar has almost completely burned out.

"Are you going to stay overnight?"

"I've got nowhere else to go."

"Liar."

"I want to stay here."

Much better. Kisaki enjoys the little spark of pride knowing that between all his closest friends, Takemichi still chooses to spend this time with him.

"What do you want to do?"

"Everything." Takemichi replies.

"What does that even mean?" He chuckles.

"I don't know."

Kisaki disentangles himself from his lover and sits up, smoking what is left of the cigar before crushing it inside the tray.

"Let's find out, then."

❦

The bedroom is as wide as the rest of his apartment, with a large, comfortable bed at the center of it. Takemichi follows him inside and, as soon as Kisaki closes the door, hugs him from behind, breathing him in.

"I missed you so much." Takemichi whispers in his ear. God, he'd missed this, too.

It couldn't be helped. What kept them apart had been a shock to them both, leading them to take the same decision without even needing to consult each other. It was best to end this. Things were messed up enough as it is.

And yet, here they are again.

Kisaki lets his lover's hands distract him from any other thought, tilting his head to the side to receive his kisses.

"Takemitchy," he calls out, almost an order. Does he ever think about that time he was under his command? Takemichi stops.

Kisaki turns around, grabbing his wrists. He looks up. Tired blue eyes look back at him, waiting.

"Can I kiss you now?" Kisaki asks.

"Please."

The fact that they do not accidentally headbutt each other in their precipitation is a small miracle. Reflexes somehow still sharp from their delinquent days, they both pull back at the same time when they notice the other approaching a little too fast. Then Takemichi snorts and starts laughing, and Kisaki leaves impatient kisses on his cheek and next to his mouth until he has caught his breath again. After that, they get to kiss properly. At last.

With shallow breaths, hands over his shoulders, Takemichi guides him towards the bed before gently pushing him over. Kisaki lies back onto the soft mattress, panting. While his lover stands before him, observing, Kisaki holds his gaze, taking a more inviting pose. Opening his legs, he reaches for his jacket's buttons and begins undoing them.

"Are you going to keep staring or do you plan on joining me at some point?" He teases.

"Not sure," Takemichi replies, machinally unfastening his tie, eyes still fixated on Kisaki. "Both sound good."

He still looks torn between the two options as Kisaki is done taking off his shirt, and sits up to begin removing his trousers. Then, lying back against the pillows, he raises his legs towards Takemichi.

"Take them off," he orders, and both his trousers and socks are pulled off of him in an instant.

All that is left are his boxers, now. Takemichi finally looks ready to intervene, kneeling right in front of him on the bed, but Kisaki holds him off, pushing him with one foot against his chest.

"I'll take care of that."

In truth, he wants nothing more than to have them ripped from him in an instant, but knows better than to ruin a good show. Still holding his lover at a distance with one leg, he begins to stroke himself through the fabric, relishing both his own touch and the look on Takemichi's face. Moving his legs to give him a better view, he slowly uncovers the tip of his cock, running his fingertips over it.

"Please..." Takemichi begs, desperate to join him. And Kisaki, who just loves to hear him plead, moans as his cock twitches under his own touch, so close already.

"Not yet," he breathes out. With his left hand, he blindly reaches for the drawer on his nightstand and pulls it open. "Give me the lube."

Takemichi passes him the small bottle. Kisaki decides to get rid of his boxers already, throwing them across the room.

"Take off your clothes, too."

"Let me touch you..." Takemichi protests, watching him coat his fingers with lube and spread it where he needs it.

The cool sensation makes Kisaki whimper, and he has to take a few deep breaths before risking another move. He opens his eyes and notices Takemichi undressing next to him. Maybe a little too fast. That man works in the film industry yet clearly lacks showmanship. He's more interested in what Kisaki is doing at the moment, glancing back at him after he discards each new item of clothing onto the floor.

"Can I touch you, now?" He sits next to him, kneeling, with his hands over his lap. Behind his arms, Kisaki can see his cock stand fully erect.

Sliding his free hand over Takemichi's lap, Kisaki runs his fingertip across the length of it.

"Don't forget to put on a condom first," he teases.

Takemichi is by all accounts a patient man, but he still tears open that packet like his life depends on it.

"Good." Kisaki wishes he could reach high enough to pat his head. "Now come over here and fuck me."

❦

It is still nighttime when Kisaki wakes up, his room lit up dimly by the city lights through the half-open curtains. Feeling parched, he reaches for the glass of water Takemichi left on the nightstand, and drinks it all up. When he slides back under the cover, he notices his partner facing away from him. Kisaki can hear him hyperventilate.

"Takemitchy?"

He calls his name to let him know he's there before placing his hands over his shoulders and massaging them lightly. Takemichi leans back into the touch.

"Sorry, I must've woken you up..." He apologizes with a strained, shaky voice. As if his state was not a good enough reason to wake somebody up.

"I don't mind."

Takemichi doesn't say anything more for a few minutes. His breathing settles into a regular rhythm while Kisaki continues to massage his shoulders, sometimes laying a kiss onto the nape of his neck.

"Hey... Can I say something terrible?"

"Anything."

"If it weren't for you and Hina, I'd have died a while ago. Maybe right after Mikey."

"Hmm." Kisaki had already sort of figured that out.

"I should've returned right away. Should've found a new trigger and saved Mikey before he did it. That was the only thing to do, wasn't it?"

"That power of yours only works if two people have the same desire to change the past, doesn't it?"

"Everybody wants to change what happened that day."

"Why not do it, then?"

"The truth is, I already tried. With Draken and with Chifuyu. It didn't work with either." He turns to lie on his back, eyes wide open. "That means I'm the problem."

"Not necessarily." Kisaki also turns to stare at the ceiling, but reaches for his lover's hand under the cover. Something to keep him grounded. "Chifuyu's living his best polyamorous life, and Draken has a wife and children he would be reluctant to leave behind."

"They'd still do it for Mikey."

"And you wouldn't? Please."

"No, I would. I would, but... When I heard the news, it felt like something just snapped in me. I don't think I lost my power. But... Even if I used it again... Is there even a point? We made it so that everyone would be happy. We saved as many people as we could, we prevented all kinds of horrible stuff from happening. This was supposed to be the best possible timeline. And Mikey still killed himself."

Maybe that was the problem. Takemichi no longer thinks he's capable of saving Mikey.

"People can live in castles, surrounded by everything they could ever ask for, and still shoot themselves in the face. Mikey had plenty of reasons to be happy, too. But maybe there was something else in him that made it all seem worthless."

"Why didn't he reach out if it was so unbearable? I mean... It's not like I wouldn't understand..."

The usual Takemichi would definitely be crying by now. Instead, there is a sort of distance between himself and everything he says. Maybe he got that from him, or from Mikey.

Kisaki holds his hand a little tighter, and turns so that he can drape his other arm over him, shifting closer to feel his warmth.

"Takemitchy. Whatever it is you want, I'll grant it for you."

Takemichi raises his arm to squeeze the hand on his shoulder.

"I want... I want to forget everything. To be carefree again. I want to love people without seeing them lying dead in front of me." His breathing grows erratic again as he speaks through tears he can no longer hold back. "I wanted to die, too, you know! There were times when I thought I couldn't do it anymore, and I'd cry for hours or say nothing all day and make Hina worry, but I still held on! So why couldn't you do the same?"

Kisaki doesn't reply. That question isn't destined to him, anyhow.

"And you know what? Even through the shitty times, it's been worth it, dammit! There's always gonna be another chance if you keep looking for it! But the moment you give up, things will never get better again! Why couldn't you see that, you idiot?!" Takemichi's voice goes shaky with grief, and he turns around to bury his face into Kisaki's chest. "Why couldn't you see how much you meant to everyone? How could you think we'd be fine without you?"

Before his suicide, Mikey had written a note. It simply said Don't look for me.

Kisaki doesn't know what pushed him to do it. Maybe the weight of everything he'd done was haunting him to the end. Maybe it was just a chemical imbalance in his brain. Maybe he simply got bored with life, or disgusted with the world of adults as a whole. Hard to say. People kill themselves for a variety of reasons. Some even do it to save another person.

Within his arms, his lover seems to have cried himself to sleep. At least Kisaki thinks so, until he hears him speak out, a tired whisper: "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Everything."

"Hmm..." Kisaki tries to figure out what he could be alluding to. Telling him he wanted to die? Being mad at Mikey for taking his own life? He doesn't find either option that offending. He has felt that way, too. Saying he wishes he could love people without seeing them dead? Kisaki knows the feeling all too well. "I really don't mind," is what he replies.

He feels glad for everything he shares with Takemichi, although he won't say it out loud right now. This must mean he can be good, deep down. Either that, or Takemichi is capable of sinking to his level. Both are fine.

He holds on a little more tightly.

This life has been a gift. Takemichi has shown him kindness he never thought possible, taught him so much. Kisaki has made a place for himself in this crazy world, he's seen what he had set out to see.

They even became lovers. Surely he would be loath to part from such a life.

But Kisaki cannot ignore a call for help when it comes from his hero.

He asks, "are you awake?"

"Yeah."

"I could grant you your wish. You know the way, don't you?"

Takemichi doesn't answer. Maybe his mind isn't working that well at such a late ― or is it early? ― hour. Maybe Kisaki has to spell it out for him.

"If you gave me your power without acting as my trigger, I could return to a time in which you remember nothing about your past lives."

"Huh?"

"Since the first time leap can be triggered by death, it's most likely the case for subsequent ones as well. Even if I don't succeed the first time, I probably won't need another person to act as my trigger at all."

"Hang on... You're not..." Panic begins to gnaw at his voice.

"Don't you see it? This is the only way someone like me can still be a hero." His own voice comes out a tad unsteady, as well. "I'll shoulder everything. I'll keep everyone you love safe. You won't even know they were in danger."

"You... You're going to lose your mind!" Takemichi pulls away from him and gets up from their bed. He turns on the light and drapes himself in a bathrobe. "Nobody can face this alone. You're not strong enough for this. No one is."

"I won't be alone. I'll get stronger so I can beat those older kids in the park when we first meet. That way you'll definitely want to be my friend again. And I'll be able to protect you."

"I can't let you do that. I'm not letting you kill yourself." Takemichi walks up to the door, putting as much distance as he can between that idea and himself.

"Takemitchy..." Kisaki gets up and stumbles, body still aching from their earlier lovemaking. He holds on to the nightstand for support. His friend has come closer, ready to help but also hesitant to reach out. "You've always been scared of me, haven't you? I felt it from the start, but I didn't mind. I thought that if you saw how good I could be, eventually you'd stop being afraid." How quickly he'd fled from him, just now. After everything they've been through, everything they've shared. "So tell me," Kisaki lets go of the nightstand, his sore legs giving out from under him. "How much more is it going to take for you to trust me?"

Hands onto the floor, Kisaki hears the sound of footsteps approaching. Takemichi kneels before him.

They look into each other's eyes.

"If you die, Hina will never recover," his friend whispers. "What I said earlier... it doesn't warrant throwing your life away. Couldn't you wait a few more years?"

"Can you?"

Takemichi's eyes say it all.

Kisaki raises one hand to cup his lover's face, wiping away a tear from his cheek. He kisses his lips, as gently and lovingly as he possibly can. Perhaps in the same way one might try to reassure a cornered animal. He makes himself unthreatening. Don't run away. Please don't run away. I didn't even get to tell you how much you mean to me. Don't be afraid. All I want is for my life and yours to be so deeply woven together there's no telling them apart anymore. It doesn't matter in which shape or form. I'll take anything you can give me. If that scares you, I'll keep silent for both our sakes.

"Takemitchy, you know I can handle this. Let me be your savior."

Takemichi laughs, feebly. He runs one hand through Kisaki's hair.

"There's just no way you won't be cursed, taking away my power and then killing yourself."

"I know. You'll have to give it to me."

"I've spoiled you too much, haven't I?"

"Maybe." Kisaki buries his face into his old friend's shoulder. He may have wanted more, still. "I know you can't refuse anything to me. But you should know the opposite is true, as well."

There is a short pause, until Takemichi rests his head against him, too.

"Do you think there's a way to love people that'll make them never want to die again?"

"I'll tell you if I find it."

❦

Kisaki picks a green suit from his closet, the one he wore during a certain ceremony. His hand reached for it by chance, or perhaps there was something else influencing his choice. He feels ready to believe in fate.

Takemichi wordlessly gets dressed beside him, in clothes that entirely belong to his lover. He wears a black, striped suit. Strangely pragmatic of him. Kisaki fixes the collar of his shirt for him.

They kiss for a long time, before walking together towards the wide, open window. The sun is rising. Cool winds blow into their hair. It's a lovely day.

Takemichi takes his hand, and Kisaki feels a spark run throughout his body.

It all started with a fall, didn't it?

Kisaki holds him in his arms, then sways with him into the void. Once their bodies reach the ground, there will be no telling them apart anymore.

[tomato-farming]

Is Palia enough of a Farm Game for me to post here?

Maybe, it might be, it's got a lot of Farm Game elements at least

I'm going to go ahead and make a really long post about it because it's my blog and I can do what I want and I've been following this game for a while now and if you like what you see I'd appreciate it if you used my Refer-A-Friend link if you want to make your own account to play this used someone else's Refer-A-Friend link if you want to make your own account to play this because I got all the stuff already and you should give the benefits to someone else who needs them

Disclaimer: I've never played this game, it's not out yet, I've never done the alpha and I don't work for them, all the information and photos are from Palia's website, social media, and discord

What Is Palia?

Palia (pronounced pay-lee-uh) is an upcoming cozy mmo being developed by Singularity 6

It's a Free-To-Play game which will only monetize optional cosmetics, it will not be a pay-to-win game, there are no loot boxes, you can read more about it here

Palia is going into closed beta on August 2nd, 2023 and into open beta about a week later on August 10th, 2023 for PC. It's also coming to Nintendo Switch this holiday season

You can create your account now for a chance to get into the closed beta, you can use my a Refer-A-Friend link, I'll talk more about it later

Cool, What's The Game Like Though?

You play as a human that recently returned to the world of Palia after all of them disappeared thousands of years ago, so mysterious~ The story unfolds as you make friends with NPCs and build yourself a new home

In Palia you can:

Fish

Forage

Hunt

Mine

Catch insects

Cook

Make furniture

And garden! Which is basically farming ;)

You can also befriend and romance NPCs like these two:

I don't know all of the ones you CAN romance because I couldn't find a specific list but they have confirmed romantic options are not limited by gender and are also completely optional

A lot of these are pretty standard Farm Game fare so I feel like it might be fairly appealing to y'all, it is at least to me

You can also play with other people since it's an mmo, or solo, they said that almost everything can be done alone but might be easier or more fun with friends (we could be in game friends when it comes out c: make sure to tell me your character's name though)

Okay, What's The Link You Keep Bringing Up?

In order to play Palia, you need to make an account (regardless of if you're planning on playing on PC or Switch) which can be done now even though the game isn't out. In order to help reach more users the devs made a Refer-A-Friend promotion where if you have an account, you get a link to share with your friends (or strangers on the internet) in hopes 5 people will use it to make their account so you get cool in game stuff

I want got the stuff. Please use someone else's link, there's a lot of them in Palia's discord in the Refer-A-Friend section

When you use someone's Refer-A-Friend link to make your account, YOU get a fruit basket item in game! and the ability to attempt to get people to use your new code to get those items up there, it's absolutely multi-level marketing but they need players and I everyone want items

Conclusion

I think this game looks fun, I'm not sure if I'll keep talking about it, it really could just be a Game With Farming and not a Farm Game, time will tell but I had to take the opportunity of hocking my Link here since I was getting nowhere on my personal blog or in their discord (but now I've got it, thank you!!)

Palia is doing a gameplay preview presentation thing tomorrow at 10am PT on youtube and twitch, check that out if you'd like to see more

[anticidic]

hi darling!! i am back because i realized that somewhere along the "just spit it on to the page" writing i've been doing for the abo fic that is still 100% your fault, i am somehow at. almost 10k words. which is insane.

BUT since i've got so much and yet have barely begun, i decided to poke you about something that im playing with in it which IS: what are your thoughts on the possibility of Chuuya's secondary gender being messed with/fucked up by his time in the labs?

that is still 100% your fault

but omg i'm happy for you!! i'm still totally interested in what you've got cooking and will 100% give it a read, hehe 👀

(putting this warning ahead of time but cw: for talking about experimentation)

it's funny you say that, because my beast skk fic has this loosely used as a subplot explanation for some of the fuckery going on with him that i won't go too into details bc the fic is still ongoing and i'm pretty sure I have readers following me here. but i somehow managed to make professor n even more of a scumbag for what happened to chuuya, so uhh, yay?

my immediate thought is: heck yeah!! esp. if you like to add a touch of explanation to your omegaverse worldbuilding beyond just 'uhhhh it happens because i say so'

the tldr of what i did in my own fic about chuuya getting experimented on was that his clone was used as a scapegoat for a secret experiment wherein scientists were trying to see if they could combine alpha/omega traits either into a beta or put alpha traits into an omega and vice versa with alphas. like, implanting the scent glands of one individual into another in the hopes that the recipient would inherit the behaviors of the first person and by proxy their unique scent, because scents are tied to identities in a very 'if your identity is stolen, your life may as well be forfeit in whoever's hands it fell into because they know now all of your memories'

the short answer is that the experiment went fucking terribly because it turns out the body can't handle experiencing both a rut and a heat at the same time. people just drop dead best case scenario because they fail to thrive.

ANYWAY, that was the angle i went with as an example and i feel like since what was done to chuuya as a kid is vague enough to leave up to interpretation, this can work in your favor for what you have planned. as a wink-wink nudge-nudge, you could also factor in the poisons used on chuuya/him getting stabbed with that knife laced with poison. where the consequences aren't immediate, but long-term it ends up altering his genes on a basic, functioning level.

it doesn't have to be all bad, either. his time in the lab could've positively affected him (i know this sounds ironic but i don't mean that he had a good time there sdfjkdjfk just that there was a silver lining to the unspeakable horrors that he can use to his advantage) depending on the omegaverse worldbuilding you do. maybe one of the subgenders has a disadvantage of some sort, and he was experimented on ~for the greater good~ to save him from a future life of hardship. OR, OR, you could use it as an excuse for why he doesn't experience heats or ruts or isn't affect by the scents of those around him. maybe professor n dun goofed real bad and no one even knows what to classify chuuya as. he's just chuuya.

there's actually a lot you can do with it tbh that are all very, very interesting. it's ripe for angst, for some cool lore, and interesting plot twists that i don't see explored often in omegaverse tbh. i hope this gave you some food for thought!!

[exoid-the-locomotive-monarch]

I think since today’s the day, I should get off my chest what I think about Homestuck and the epilogues: the former is good and the latter is like an uncooked steak covered with diahhrea.

To elaborate, Homestuck is a cake that used too much baking soda and cooked in the oven for too short, its the same size as a cake but the outside is too airy and the inside is mushy and liquid batter, disgusting.

But there’s this middle part, between the layers that’s delicious as all hell, it uses grandma’s secret recipe and the chef was running a rush order, it’s a miracle he used the perfect ratio of egg to sugar to flour and milk, you can’t deny most chefs wish they could prepare a cake this good, and when one ingredient is off and it was underbaked, many critics would absolutely drop a solid 9 to a 5/10. It’s still good in my heart.

Now leaving the metaphors, I love this comic to an autistic degree. Its art direction and narration perfectly mix the feel of a strange adventure game published by some studio pushing the boundaries but had no budget so they end up reusing assets from stock images for most of its run, and for the second half abandoned jpgs for minimalist bean shaped heroes.

It has multiple flash animations, interactive walkarounds, and plenty of callbacks and reference to its own story beats and panels, it’s really good and even the secondary characters have a lot of dimension to them! The big issue was the pacing, and by god did Act 5 Act 2 cone out the miracle it did, balancing troll to human conversation perfectly, never abandoning the kids, and leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for the mess the trolls were about to make for themselves.

I even like act 6. Yeah I said it. Caliborn is funny, Calliope is eh, Roxy is the obvious character with the most going for her, Dirk has a good arc about his own struggles, but between him and the alpha kids, not so much. Jake had an arc for him to realize who he can be and his linits and how he should stand up for himself, and Jane was learning to trust her friends while being able to sleuth out manipulation or bad actors. Some of these words are in past tense because Hussie was now ping ponging to the boring 3 years where the kids are separated by dream bubbles and a long yard, almost never interacting with each other’s side of the 3 year journey (minus one DISTACTION by Rose and John hammering Bec’s head in with COOL NEW BREATH POWERS)

The pacing was a whole lot and openbound was a waste of time for 10 characters the fans could play with as dolls, but Act 6 Act 6 united both alpha and beta parties to actually do stuff.

But Hussie was also developing a (STILL UNFINISHED) adventure game(s) for his two new kidsonas that were going to give Alternia more breathing room and two new kidsonas an adventure to expand on the lore of Beta earth Roxy, Jake Harley, and a dead flighty broad.

After delaying when the comic should have ended by one and a half years, Hussie says “fuck it” and drops an awesome flash where everyone fucking dies. I was sad a little bit but remembered the comic had to end with the good guys winning so I just slogged another 500 pages watching a cool concept unfold: alter the timeline to unfuck the doomed timeline and fix the time paradox that would cause Lord English to not exist. Cool yeah?

The problem was after undoing 2000 pages of characterization Hussie needs to redo those 2000 pages and give characters worthwhile new arcs to solve, make everything both hunky dory on our way to the finish line but also start a new problem from railroading the characters into this new chance to win the game, and are clearly still coping or ignoring their other timeline’s struggles.

The best Hussie could do was 750 pages.

Build the new universe, kill the bad guys, save the troll race, finish Dave, Dirk, and Roxy’s character arc’s, we’ll finish the rest in a new timeline, the epilogues stuff. Drop in some vague shit at the last minute like “Ultimate Selves” “Aspect design and destiny” and some lip service to how these aren’t the same kids John knew, the look like them but they’re ever so different.

Then for like 6 months that was it, then the credits explained what happened to them and where they are now, and what’s unfinished.

Bonus updates we see a human cosplay space fish horns Hitler, a troll cosplay an immortal time demon hellbent on wrecking the corpse of every Universe he is aware of, and a carapacian cosplay a teleporting radiant dog demon that killed 3 parents. This was for Halloween.

Jane gets kidnapped by the goons you loved back when the comic only had 4 kids 3 adults a dog, some 4 chess friends, Jack, the midnight crew and the felt, and then she mind controls Jack and says she is going to get political.

Also the woobified side characters Wayward Vagabond and Oeregrine Me dicant are no longer “the deterrent of the original bad guy” and “silly marketable plush character who was once a veteran of the bloodiest massacre in Sburban history” they’re dead.

So what an ending huh, that was overwhelming, also unfinished. That epilogue should really tie in loose ends and end the narrative stakes of a work of fiction to a calm and satisfying pace like a traditional narrative does, boy oh boy can’t wait to expect that from the postmodern work of Homestuck hahahahahahahaha.