#With that being said this is already up on said AO3 if anyone would rather read it there

[venture-through-the-mist]

Songs of Solitude

A song—and the Cavia’s reaction towards it—drags a slightly dismayed Loid from his work. He certainly didn’t expect the voice to belong to her.

TW: Hi there! Before we get into this fic, I have a bit of a trigger warning to mention to y’all.

There is a very brief moment in the last paragraph of the fic that, depending on how you read it, could be interpreted as a mention of potential suicide. Nothing happens, this is fully just Loid being worried about Lotus (he doesn’t really know her, after all, and the situation is definitely odd), and that isn’t really how I’d intended for it to be read anyhow, but figured I’d put up a warning in case.

Anyways, with that out of the way, the fic begins under the cut.

The singing begins on a day not too dissimilar from any other, by his account, at least. At first, he wonders if it’s simply yet another of his Albrecht’s ‘surprises’. It certainly wouldn’t shock him if that is the case, Albrecht always did enjoy concealing his inventions until their revelation suited him. It doesn’t bother him, not until he hears a shrill, questioning voice.

“Mister Loid! Mister Loid? Hey!” He sighs, turning to the brightly colored creature.

“Yes, Bird 3? What is it?” He’s known that the bird in question has been able to ‘escape’ that cage for…a while now. Granted, it isn’t entirely a cage, more of a large resting area, so this should not be surprising. His eye twitches slightly as the bird squawks again. Gods, why couldn’t Albrecht have chosen some other creature fo—he interrupts his own mind, scolding himself for the thought instantly. The Cavia have been through quite enough in their time. 

“What’s that sound? I thought it was the voices, but it doesn’t sound like ‘em. Rark.” Loid sighs once more. It seems he’s likely going to have to investigate what is certainly another one of Albrecht’s many projects. Strange that it seems to have decided to start working again now, but he supposes he cannot fault a machine. 

“I do not know. I suspect it’s something of Albrecht’s. Would you like me t—“ He’s interrupted rather abruptly as another voice shouts, the words punctuated with sharp hoof-beats, and he notices Tagfer nearly sprinting over.

“LOID. There’s someone over at the edge of the cliff. Not a Tenno. How the hell did it get here?” He frowns, adjusting his glasses—a nervous habit, he supposes—, before trying to appease the anxious Cervulite. Surely he’s mistaken?

“Are you quite certain that whoever it is isn’t a Tenno? I haven’t seen anyone else come through here.” The Cavia lowers his head, shaking it. He stomps a hoof on the ground, clearly agitated.

“Yes, I’m sure. Go see for yourself.” The animal’s nerves are, admittedly, not pairing well with his own curiosity, and Loid sighs. None of them will get any answers if he doesn’t investigate, will they? 

“Fine. Show me where they are.” He follows the Cervulite across the dunes, leaving Bird to his own devices for the moment. He will not cause…too much trouble, Loid hopes. As they near the edges of the dunes, where sand begins to meet the stony outcrops which fall away into the misty nothingness below, he does catch sight of a figure. He cannot discern the details from this distance, but the silhouette doesn’t seem too dissimilar from the average Tenno’s. He almost misses Tagfer’s abrupt stop, and he very nearly crashes into the creature. The animal’s thin tail thrashes in the air, his head shaking from side to side. Tagfer stomps a hoof down, though the sound is muffled by the sand.

“I’m not going any further. Something’s not right.” Loid rolls his eyes, but, given the Cervulite’s state, thinks it wise to refrain from arguing. 

“Alright. I’m sure it is only a Tenno. You needn’t be so concerned.” Tagfer glares, his tail flicking, the movement calmed now that he knows he doesn’t have to continue the trek. He turns, though mutters a parting comment to the man.

“Don’t die.” Loid huffs, amused. He continues his approach, noticing that the singing seems to get louder as he nears the figure. Well, that gives him one less thing to worry about, and one less invention of Albrecht’s to keep up with. Now closer, he finds that he can discern the tone of the singer properly. She—it is a woman, he realizes—sounds…distracted. The notes are sharp, disconnected. Lonely. He wonders which of the Tenno could possibly be in such a state. He frowns as he begins to see her properly through the fog. Why does she stand so close to the edge? What is she looking at? His curiosity is piqued as he notices the garments she wears, the crested helmet that adorns her head. This is certainly not a configuration of Warframe that he has seen yet. Perhaps Tagfer was correct. She must hear him, and the singing halts abruptly. She does not speak, however, so Loid takes it upon himself to take the first step towards conversation.

“I apologize if I have disturbed you. Might I ask what you are doing out here?” She turns, and as she does so, a memory flashes in his mind. A description, one given to him by many Tenno, eager to tell the stories of the world outside the Sanctum. The crested helmet, the flowing robes…these belong to a creature that he has only heard tales of. The Lotus. The leader—the mother—of the Tenno. The being who many have held partially responsible for the near-fall of the Origin System, and the being who was ultimately responsible for saving it regardless. She speaks, her voice poised, as would befit a leader.

“Do not apologize. It is I who have caused a disturbance. I am…answering a call. One that seems to have led me here.” That is…woefully cryptic, even by his standards. He cannot see her eyes, cannot see much of her face for that matter, which puts him ill at-ease. He has little way of reading her. 

“It has led you to the edge of the cliff?” His skeptical question causes her head to turn slightly, perhaps glancing back into the near-empty Void below. He notices something in her hand, an odd rectangular object.

“What is that?” Her attention is directed back to the object, away from the nothingness that is mere footsteps away from her—Loid finds himself relieved by that, though he is unsure why—and she hums softly.

“I am not sure. But it is calling to me, trying to influence my thoughts. Can you hear its voice?” No, he finds he cannot. Even as she shifts, holding it slightly in front of herself so that he can get a better look, Loid finds himself unable to determine what exactly the device is. He certainly does not hear any sound from it. But, something she had said sticks in his mind like a thorn, sending a spike of unease through his bones. Surely It is not…He shakes his head, both ridding himself of the thought and serving as a reply to the Lotus. He hears the being sigh, notices her shoulders lower slightly, almost as if she’s discouraged by the fact that only she seems to hear whatever is calling her.

“It wants the Tenno. I am not sure what for, but It…makes promises. Things that can be granted if I allow It to take them. Memories that can be…altered.” Loid groans softly. If he had any hope that the Indifference was not the one behind this, it has been squandered, dashed to shreds. 

“The Indifference is known to do…strange things in order to get what It wants. And what It wants, It cannot have.” He notices the Lotus shift, tilting her head slightly. Her tone is rather curious, if guarded—understandably so, of course.

“The Indifference. Some of the Tenno have mentioned It in passing, but never enough for me to be properly aware of what they are speaking about. I…” She trails off, and Loid notices her form tense slightly. He has no way of knowing what exactly It is showing her, but it cannot be pleasant. Perhaps that is why he’s rather surprised when she begins to address him again.

“I cannot—no, I will not let It harm them. It seems that I am a distraction, keeping Its attention off of my children. I will endure.” She sounds only slightly distant, something in her tone indicating that she isn’t entirely focused on the conversation right in front of her. Yet, he notices a firm determination in her voice, something that proves its existence further by the set of her jaw, the rigidity of her back. It seems that he and the Cavia have another mind to work with, someone else who can understand the destructive capability of the Indifference. If she wishes to endure Its torment to keep the Tenno out of Its clutches for just a while longer, well, Loid finds that he won’t stop her. It will only prove beneficial to his efforts anyhow. In her solitary vigil, she gives him more time to prepare, more time to ensure that their next move is successful. 

“Then welcome to the Sanctum. If you find yourself needing anything, I will do my best to aid you.” Her only response is a firm nod as she turns to face the fog once more, turning to look towards the massive expanse of floating rubble and the screaming maw. As he too turns his back, Loid hears the song begin anew. The sharp, determined notes sound only slightly less lonely than before. He makes his way back to the Sanctum, his shoes nearly sinking in the sand. He scoffs quietly. Of course. As two figures become clear, he realizes that the Cavia remain nearby his workspace. Two voices speak at once, one shrill, curious, the other sharp, still agitated.

“Soooo? What happened, Mister Loid? Did’ja find whoever’s making that sound too?”

“I told you it wasn’t a damn Tenno. At least you didn’t die. That would’ve been a mess.” Loid narrows his eyes at the Cervulite. Any response he would’ve given, however, is cut off by a third a voice. The fish.

“Have you discovered what is causing Tagfer to be in such a state of distress? Is this yet another conundrum that we must work out how to solve?” ‘We’? Loid nearly laughs at the absurdity of that. Yes, he has grown fond of the Cavia, but make no mistake. He is the one solving—or, attempting to solve—the vast expanse of ‘conundrums’ that seem to be lurking around every corner. He tempers his response, however. It will do no one any good for him to be upset with the fish. He’s done nothing wrong. Not really. Besides cheating at Komi, at least.

“Yes, Fibonacci, I did. Now, may I explain, or would you all prefer to speak over me once again?” He’s met with a somewhat remorseful silence. Blissful silence. Which…is about to be broken when he reveals what he has to tell. He exhales sharply. Might as well get it over with.

“Fantastic. Now, yes Tagfer, you were correct in that she is not a Tenno. However, I will also tell you that you needn’t be afraid of her. She is the Lotus, the Daughter of Hunhow, the leader of the Tenno. The Indifference seems to be targeting her in order to get to them. She will be spending some time here to distract It, which should buy us enough time to prepare for our next steps.” He grits his teeth as Bird 3 interrupts.

“So is she making the sound?” He nods, but before he can get a word in, the bird continues. Sometimes…sometimes this creature is insufferable. 

“She sounds sad. Is she sad? Can we cheer her up? Maybe she’d want some of the shinies that I have lying around! Rark.” Well, he might not be the most…obviously intelligent of the animals, but even Loid has to admit that the bird has more emotional intelligence than possibly any of the others, himself included. He adjusts his glasses, wondering how exactly to word this. He settles for simplicity.

“She seems fine, if a tad lonely.” Once again, he isn’t allowed to continue speaking, and he has to hold back a groan of annoyance.

“We should go say hi to her then, right Mister Tagfer? Mister Fish-O-nacci, we can say hi from you too!” It’s the Cervulite who replies, stomping his hoof in annoyance.

“No, Bird. If she wants to mess with It, she can do it on her own. I don’t trust her.” Now, that seems uncalled for, and Loid finally manages to enter the conversation once more.

“She’s trustworthy, Tagfer. She isn’t someone you need to be worried about. She’s actively trying to help. However, I do think she wishes to do this alone.” Whatever ‘this’ is, he supposes. Not that he thinks that’s necessarily a great idea, but it’s a better plan than he’s got at the moment. Somehow, that appeases them, at least enough that they don’t continue to discuss the matter. Tagfer snorts, his hooves clicking against the floor as he returns to his spot by the entrance to the laboratories. Bird 3 seems to understand, and begins his trek back to his gilded ‘cage’. Only Fibonacci remains nearby, and he keeps silent. Thus, a new era begins. The Lotus never ventures into the Sanctum, always remaining at the cliff’s edge, as if she’s physically repelling the Indifference from leaving its position in the Void. Her song continues, day in and day out, hardly—if ever—pausing. She does not eat, she hardly sleeps—and Loid is still unclear as to if that hour of silence truly meant that she was asleep—, she simply sings. He keeps watch, telling himself that it’s only for the Tenno, but he knows he is lying. Despite everything, the Lotus might very well find a sort of family in the Sanctum, if she so wishes to. As the days pass, her tone changes. Sometimes, it is firmer, more determined. Others, she’s lonely, saddened, desperate. It’s always distracted, the notes sharp as if she must take a moment between them in order to recall which will come next. He can tell that this takes a great toll on her, but Loid is unsure what he or the others could possibly do to lessen her discomfort. So, he keeps watch, venturing away from his workbench when he can, or when the sound becomes too uncomfortable to listen to—though, her voice is always beautifully melodic—, venturing quietly to the edges of the dunes. He watches from afar, eying her for signs. Signs that this is simply too much. Signs that, gods forbid, the edge of the cliff, the call of the Void, is too tempting. Yet, despite everything, her form remains steady. Stiff, yes, but she does not waver. Her resolve does not falter. It must not. So, day in and day out, she sings. Day in and day out, she drowns out the incessant voice of the Indifference whilst Loid throws himself into his work. He finds that he too is missing out on sleep in order to find the missing piece of the puzzle. Two sides of the same coin, each tasked with their own unique tragedy. Each both waiting for and dreading the day the call is answered. Not by the Tenno, no. By someone else, though he’s unsure of who. But one day, for better or for worse, the call will be answered. The Lotus’s melody will cease. His work will be finished. But not yet. No. He won’t be late this time.

[astarion-approves]

More than sex.

Astarion x gn! Tav

"You’re telling me, that you.. would pass on a night of… meaningless, fantastic, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mind blowing sex… for love?”

“Yes.”

Rating: Mature (for the subject but no actual sex or smut in any way shape or form.) Tags: Demisexuality, demisexual Tav, Demisexual Reader, No Smut, gn! Reader, Slight spoilers, Act One spoilers, Developing Relationship, Developing Friendships, Drabble, short and sweet, Confessions

Ao3 or keep reading below:

-----------------

“I’m just looking for a little more excitement. A little more fun.”

Tav considered these words, anytime they saw Astarion having ‘fun’ was on the battlefield. Either stabbing his way through anything that stood before him, or sneaking up behind them and slitting their throat before they could even scream. “And what’s your idea of ‘a little fun?’”

Astarion smiled, taking a sip of his cheap wine before speaking, “By the hells. Sex, my dear. A night of passion.” 

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed. So, how about—“

“Shadowheart is free.” Tav looked over their shoulder to where she stood by her own tent where she fiddled with a bottle of wine attempting to open it with slow hands. 

“Wait, what—“ Astarion shifted to look past Tav to where she stood, the woman catching his gaze and glaring in return. 

“And she’s really pretty too,” Tav offered. 

“I’m not interested in hearing her praise her goddess tonight.” 

“Well, there’s also Lae’zel—“

Astarion shook his head. “I think she would rather behead me before she would ever bed me.”

“Halsin is available too—“ The Druid elf was handsome, and such a powerful one at that but before Tav could even finish, Astarion cut them off.

“Tempting, but not the one I’m interested in.” 

“Gale—“

“No.” 

Tav hummed, putting their hands on their hips as they scanned the rest of the camp. There were many others, but most were already too drunk to even remember their own names. “I can’t think of anyone else.” 

“There’s always you, darling.” 

“Me?” Tav snorted a laugh. Surely he must have been joking. Of all the people that Astarion could have… Tav would personally put themselves at the bottom of the list. 

“Yes, you. It’s not everyday someone like yourself would be propositioned by someone like me, and this may be your last opportunity—“

“No thank you.” 

“No?! What do you mean ‘no’?!” Astarion was shocked, his hands jumping to his chest as if Tav had stabbed him directly in the heart. 

Tav grimaced, the way that Astarion’s face dropped, the hurt that filled his eyes so quickly… “Look, I’m not… rejecting you—“

“Sure sounds like rejection to me—“

They shook their head. “I need to be in love first… before I can…” Tav lifted their hands, gesturing towards Astarion in a weak display of trying to find the words and failing. “Don’t get me wrong… you’re- you are breathtaking, Astarion. The most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on—“ 

“Yes, I know. But– you’re telling me, that you.. would pass on a night of… meaningless, fantastic, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mind blowing sex… for love?” 

“Yes.”

Astarion paused, taken aback. “Well, that’s actually quite admirable… But why?” 

“For me, I want it to mean something. Sex is an easily obtainable thing, but love… love you have to work for, to fight for, to earn and to cherish. Sex is great and all but… making love to the person who means the most to you in the world. That’s what I want. That’s what I need.” 

Astarion tapped his finger against his lips, thinking to himself before speaking again. “Hm. Sex and love, I never took you for such a sap,” he said with a light laugh. “Well, how do you feel about being friends then, hm? The kind of friends that protect one another, that is.” 

Tav chuckled. “I think it’s too late for that.” 

“Too late?! So what, now we can’t even be friends?!” Astarion threw his hands up, frustrated. “All I did was hit on you and now—“ 

“No, no,” Tav cut him off, reaching for Astarion’s hands and holding them gently. “What I mean… We can be friends but… I have developed some feelings for you. If you want to be friends, that’s fine. That’s great, actually. I just… well, I need to know if I should ignore those feelings—“  

Astatrion pulled his hands way, choosing to gesture towards Tav as he spoke. “So, let me get this straight. You have ‘some’ feelings for me?”

“Yes,” Tav replied with a nod. 

“But you don’t want to fuck me, tonight? Right now?” 

“Right.” They nodded again. 

“How very interesting… and even.. a little refreshing,” Astarion smiled, a smile that almost seemed shy… With his head turning away from Tav—and Tav swore they saw the smallest blush growing on his cheeks. 

“Refreshing?” Tav questioned, learning towards Astarion in an attempt to see that adorable blush— 

Astarion waved them off, the blush already gone and Astarion back to his usual self. “Never mind that, Tav. I guess we can see where this goes then?” He reached out, taking Tav’s hand into his own and giving it a light squeeze. “Whatever this is, anyway.” 

Tav smiled. “I’d like that.” 

[sashaforthewin]

Multi-chapter fic on Ao3

Steve had been enjoying a nice relaxing lounge by the pool despite it being night. He had his hearing aid off and his fruity drink and a romance novel Robin had let him borrow. He was determined to have a good time despite the circumstances. 

Someone tapped his foot, scaring the crap out of Steve and making him drop his book and nearly knock over his drink. 

It was a fellow cruise passenger and he was saying something. Steve turned his hearing aid back on.

“Sorry, what?”

“I asked why you were out here instead of at the concert,” repeated the man with a smile.

“Oh, um. I’m not actually a fan of metal music. It gives me headaches if I listen to more than one or two songs in a row,” Steve admitted sheepishly.

This stranger was still clearly a metal head, but he looked significantly less scary than most of the ones he had seen so far that day. Everyone Steve met had been nice, but Steve hadn’t felt comfortable telling anyone he wasn’t a fan until now. Maybe because it was just the two of them out here and he was smiling so cutely. 

“Not a metal fan? Well damn, not to critique your life choices, but I think maybe going on a metal cruise wasn’t an ideal choice for you? I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Steve.”

There were plenty of deck lounges around, all empty, but Eddie sat down on Steve’s right next to his legs. 

“Steve. So Steve, why are you on a metal cruise when you don’t like metal? These tickets were not exactly cheap and there’s no way you missed the theme, it was pretty clearly advertised,” Eddie asked teasingly.

Steve looked Eddie over, noting that he was actually pretty cute. Pretty eyes, nice full lips, dimples, and he was that type of lanky Steve was drawn to. He had good skin and his hair had some volume and texture to it, Steve could work with that. Bit of a fixer-upper, but a better starting point than most of the men that had flirted with him since his last failed relationship. He also had the vibe, so Steve decided this guy would be fine to open up to. 

“Well, Eddie, I bought this ticket for my dear friend Dustin for his birthday, but then the little shit went and outed me to my parents. Accidentally, of course, and he feels like shit about it. But still, that got me kicked out of my home so maybe I’m being petty but I decided he shouldn’t get to go on this cruise after all. I forgive him, it really was an accident, but still, gotta teach him a lesson.” Steve shrugged. “And I would’ve gotten the ticket refunded but the money would’ve gone back to my parents and they clearly don’t deserve to get anything back from me. So, instead of trying to figure out how to sell a ticket to a very niche interest cruise, I figured I deserved to just come and treat myself for four days before I have to go back to living in my ex-girlfriend’s basement. It’s actually pretty nice to have the ship to myself while all you guys are in there shaking your heads to loud music.” Steve gestured to the pool and the drink.

“Ex- girl friend’s basement?” Eddie asked.

“Shut up, I’m bi.” Steve smacked Eddie on the arm with his book. 

Eddie grabbed the book and looked at it as he replied, “Hey, just checking to make sure I’m not barking up the wrong tree.”

“Oh? Is that what you’re doing, barking up my tree?” Steve said, playfully.

“If you’ll let me,” Eddie flirted back.

“So how come you’re not in the show right now?” Steve asked, gently stealing his book back from Eddie’s grasp.

“Oh, I’m touring with those guys right now, I have heard them play the same set like fifteen times already. I’d much rather be out here getting to chat with you. You know you’re beautiful, right? How come you don’t live with your boyfriend? Or girlfriend?” Eddie asked, quite obvious in his fishing for information.

“I’m single and yes, I do know I’m beautiful, but I still like hearing it. Are you like a roadie or something?”

“Actually,” Eddie said, “I’m the lead guitarist in the headlining band. We play tomorrow night. Can I buy you another drink? Maybe dinner?”

“The, uh, the bill goes to our cabins,” Steve answered, too shocked that an apparently famous musician was asking him out to respond appropriately.

“Baby, I’ll put your entire tab on my cabin if you’ll let me. You are the most beautiful, and dare I say cleanest man on this entire boat. Metal heads are great, but they aren’t really my type.”

Steve takes a sip of his cold drink just to make sure he’s not fallen asleep and dreaming. The ocean is calm and the moon is full and he is most definitely awake.

“And what is your type?” Steve asked. 

“Handsome men with soft hands who will let me pamper them,” Eddie said, picking up Steve’s hand and feeling his lack of calluses. He placed a kiss onto each finger tip. “These hands aren’t meant for labor, let me spoil you rotten.”

Well, Steve reasoned, even if this ended up being just a weekend fling, it was going to be worth the price of admission.

[venusbyline]

Mouth ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 05, oct.

♡ parte 2

— pairing: Spencer Reid x girlfriend!reader

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: face-sitting

— summary: Spencer likes to use his mouth to make you jealous, but also to make you cum later.

— word count: 692

— tags/warnings: kinktober 5th day, female!reader, boyfriend!Reid, face-sitting, oral (female receiving), brat!Reid, brat tamer!reader, body worship, light degradation, finger sucking, hair-pulling, curse words, soft punishment, JJ mentioned, jealousy, sub!Reid, dom!reader, long hair!Reid/Jesus!Reid. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @magnoliatrees-world @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917

— crossposting: AO3

Spencer enjoyed making you jealous. He enjoyed seeing your fake stoic gaze at him when he played flirty games with JJ or some random girl. You didn't even know where so much confidence came from, since he was just a fucking shy and nerdy boy on a daily basis. He could barely hold a conversation with you at the beginning of your relationship without blushing and stuttering like a pathetic teenager.

However, over the months, when it came to just making you jealous, Spencer managed to act like a greedy womanizer and flirt with any pair of boobs he saw. Just for the fun of annoying you.

It was obvious that he would never cheat on you. You trusted him. It wasn't news to anyone how passionate and even obsessed Spencer was with you, he would rather quit his job at the BAU than live his life without you by his side. No one would compare to you.

But Spencer liked to see you snorting with jealousy when he pretended to be interested by the nonsense that random women said to him. He liked to tease you enough to make you consider losing your first offender. And most of all, Spencer liked being a brat so you could punish him.

"What's the matter, Spencie? Can't you keep testing me? Is your annoying little mouth too busy right now?" You scoffed, pulling his brown hair and hearing him whining around your wet pussy, the muffled sound giving you a hot thrill.

You moaned at the feeling of his lips around your clit, each rub bringing a free taste of Heaven.

Spencer tried to grope your ass and you considered denying him any touch, knowing he didn't deserve anything more than you were already giving him. But you gave up total domination when his large hands began to grip your buttocks, pushing you so that you were even closer to his face, his nose brushing against your sore bud.

A low growl escaped your lips as you looked down, noticing Spencer's puppy eyes, shining almost innocently. He always did that. Acting like a brat outside the bedroom and like an innocent pretty boy when he was under your command. Spencer loved pleasing you, just as he loved being punished by you. And there was nothing better than being punished by eating you out, your thighs pressing his head and practically preventing him from breathing for a few seconds.

You rubbed yourself against every part of his pretty face, your pussy burning from the aggressive friction. Spencer never cares about being used by you. He moaned beneath your clit, moving his own hips up and down, picturing himself fucking your tight walls.

"God, your whole face is dripping..." You moaned, gripping the back of his head tighter, pulling at the strands of hair so you were in control of everything again, rubbing your wet folds against his nose, the tip causing you to tremble and bringing your orgasm closer. "You're such a stupid little slut, Spencie. You really can't go a day without licking my pussy, can you?"

Before Spencer could give any muffled answer, you pushed him away, seeing his red and swollen lips from pleasuring you so much.

He licked up the dripping arousal, before smiling slightly. "I love your pussy, darling."

His obvious confession made you roll your eyes with mockery, but Spencer could feel you dripping onto the skin of his chest. "Of course you do..." You kept one hand in his long hair, while the other goes to his face, your thumb playing with his bottom lip as he used his tongue to suck it too.

"You're a fucking brat, you know that?" Your complaint made him arch his hips again, teeth nibbling on your finger, saliva dripping when you remove it from his mouth, before grabbing his head tighter than before and forcing him to keep eating you out. “That’s it, Spencer, just like that, baby…” You purred, eyes rolling back and legs shaking, pressing him under you as he sucks on your clit again. "It's so much better when that pretty mouth of yours is giving me pleasure."

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[cokou]

hello dear cokou! could you possible write a Law/strawhat!reader during their time at punk hazard. Law gravitates towards them since they aren’t as rowdy as the rest of the crew. i’m sorry if i didn’t articulate myself well, english isnt my first language.

Note ✉* ~ I LOVEE THIS REQUEST ANON, thank you so so much for requesting♥️ Also most of this contains some spoilers and non-spoils lelll! || Do not translate, transfer, or reform, this is my only account (exp. Ao3), will not be cross posted anywhere. || 𖤐٭┆Masterlist

Summary* ~ Law thinks you're less of a nuisance to be a Strawhat. Warnings* ~ SPOILERS FOR PUNK HAZARD! Shit writing || Genre* ~ SFW

ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐᵘˢᶦᶜ, ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ?

It surely was one of the most unsurprising things your Captain's ever done. Without anyone's opinion at all, HE decided that Trafalgar, will set up an alliance with your crew. WITHOUT asking for negative reactions at all, of course it's a typical thing that usually happens all the time by the pirate crew.

Law implies that he would be helping around with the Straw Hats in order to complete his far goal. Not even an hour in with Luffy and the other Straw Hats, he already grew veins on his forehead that were about to pop from the annoyance he received from all of their bullshits.

Zoro and Sanji kept fighting, Nami was beating Luffy up, and Franky kept screaming 'super' while everyone was in the middle of a fight. Not even Robin could comprehend with whatever was happening, it was all so noisy for the love of God. The snow was was violently raining upon you guys and your coat was starting to not help at all. You distance yourself apart from everyone to get away from their abominations.

Law follows right behind you, slowly catching up with you.

"Are they always like this?" Law asks.

"They have always been, sorry about their stupid behaviours." You sigh whilst looking back to see how the fight was going, it was toning down, yet it was still loud.

"All i'm gonna ask is how you comprehend yourself with them all the time."

"I usually isolate myself from them when a fight breaks out, which is every single day. It's been a constant routine for me." You give him a laugh.

Law frowns at the thought of bearing with them every single day and shook his head in disapprovement. You two ended up eating the time avoiding the fight in utter silence, sometimes offering questions to each other to lessen the boredom and awkwardness of the time being.

The fight stops (suprisingly) after a huge snowball got flung onto them and crushing them like pancakes.

"Where did that snowball come from?!" You shrieked.

"Don't tell them it was me." Law smiles and you two laughed your asses about it.

Ever since then Law pretty much gravitates towards you whenever you all are about to go somewhere, it's not because he likes you (he does), it's simply because you're much more chiller and less loud than everyone from the crew. You had sticked with Law as he gives you the peace that you surely deserve.

Course— not everything simply comes to a happy ending, the Navy reaches Punk Hazard. Law was more than able to meet them as he exited Caesar's lab, he picked up a fight with Vice Admiral Smoker and managed to take his heart and exchange it with their captain, Tashigi. Afterwards, he left and met you, and the straw hats once again.

Law darts towards you, completely dodging Luffy's handshake, making Luffy feel dismay.

"I don't think attacking them was a good idea."

"Would you rather die than fight the navy?" Law skeptically asked.

"No way!" You chuckle.

Towards the whole day, you spent time looking at unfamiliar things that you havent seen before. You found an ice-like flower (no its not in one piece😢), and suprisingly found out that it was used to make a certain medicine, said Law. On the way to the mountains, Law and you, got into some 'little' chatters thinking that everyone was following.

"Where are they?!" You yelped.

"Maybe they got lost." Law sighs.

Correction, BOTH of you got lost. You two retraced your steps but was disappointed as the heavy snowfall refrained you two from going back to the same direction as the last time. You two were led into the big crater parting the burning lands and the ice lands.

"OOI! (Name)! Tra-guy!" Luffy waved at the opposite side of the crater.

"Luffy?? how did you guys get there?!" You screamed.

"We swam the crater!" Another correction, Zoro and Sanji swam them into the other side.

Law grabs your clothes and walked backwards to the direction you came from.

"I really don't wanna spend time with those idiots."

"You allied with us so you have to."

Law thinks so carefully that he thought an alliance with the straw hats would be a great idea, although it gave him lots of stress more, he'd be grateful someone with the same humor and interest with him was on the ship nonetheless. Because, he won't be able to take the stupid personalities of the men aboard of the straw hats. He's atleast happy that he gets to experience 99% of there stupidity with you. (You two aren't happy anymore)

Author's note ✉* ~ I really brainstormed on what to write here, I haven't reached rhis part of Punk Hazard yet😭😭 I can say this request was hard to make but i will 100% do all requests for my dear supporters! Love yall :'D.

©Cokou 2024, all works belong to me.

[slut4thebroken]

Second Chances

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Emmett x reader

Summary | Emmett takes advantage of your kindness and hospitality.

Warnings | Smut, 18+, non con, emotional manipulation, praise, guilt tripping, very large age gap, painful sex, first time, breeding, crying, bro has hella trauma fr.

Words | 2.5 k

Notes | Direct result of my Emmett brain rot (Also two fics in one day??🫣)

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“Here you go.” You smiled, handing the steaming mug to him. 

“Thanks.” His voice was quiet as he took it from you and held it in his lap. 

“What’s your name?” You asked, sitting down next to him, hoping you weren’t intruding too much. He paused for a moment, seemingly debating if he actually wanted to make conversation with you and give you “personal” information about himself. 

“Emmett.” He finally said. 

You gave him your name and watched as his eyes dragged down your body, taking in every inch of you. With a blush, you cleared your throat and looked away for a moment to gather your thoughts. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else? Are you warm enough?” He looked over you again with a neutral expression that made you squirm a little. 

“Actually I’m still a little cold. Is there anywhere I could go that’s inside?” 

“Oh- yes! Of course.” You said quickly as you got to your feet. “My parents will be out of the house for another couple of hours so you can use some extra blankets and maybe lay down on the couch for a while.” You smiled. He didn’t return the expression as he stood up and followed you for a couple minutes until you finally walked up a porch to the front door. 

“Okay, let me just grab another blanket and then I’ll start the fire place as well.” You ran off to retrieve a blanket and when you came back, he was sitting on the couch looking around the room. 

He gave you a small “thank you” after you handed him the blanket and you could feel his eyes on you as you walked forward, then kneeled down in front of the fireplace. “You live here with your parents?” He suddenly asked, almost startling you. 

“Yeah. Since there’s three of us, we got our own place. A lot of other people had to share.” He hummed in acknowledgment and you finished up with starting the fire before turning around to face him, finding his eyes already on you. “Can I get you anything else?” 

“This is more than enough.” He said softly. 

“Okay… Well, I’ll let you rest. If you’re hungry I can try to make something?” You offered with a kind smile. 

“Actually I’d rather talk with you.” 

“Oh-” You said, eyes widening in surprise— He didn’t seem like the kind of man who would want to make small talk with a stranger. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes. It’s been a while since I’ve talked to someone like this.” You hesitantly got up and sat down next to him on the couch. 

“Like what?” You asked curiously. 

“So loud… and about things other than survival.” His voice was still quiet, but this time there was a bit of a solemn undertone to it. 

“Oh.” You bit your lip, trying to think of what to say, but not really knowing how to approach this. “You never… had anyone to talk to about normal stuff? Surely it wasn’t all survival.” You can’t even imagine what he must have experienced. When he suddenly looked away and clenched his jaw, you realized that you might’ve over stepped. “I’m sorry, that was— I shouldn't have pried…”

“It’s fine. I had a family, but they’re gone now.” He still wasn’t looking at you. Taking one last sip from the mug, he leaned forward, then placed it on the coffee table. 

“God, I- I’m so sorry.” You said quietly. 

“It’s silly, but… I miss being able to hug them— to hug people.” He finally looked at you again, this time with a sad smile. “I remember the last time I felt someone’s touch… 11 weeks ago.” That must have been when his family died…

“Would you like a hug?” You offered nervously, hoping you weren’t too bold again. He studied you for another moment before nodding. 

“That would be really nice.” Once you had his approval, you moved closer and wrapped your arms around him, letting him do the same even though his wet clothes were starting to dampen yours. He let out a quiet breath and relaxed into the embrace. “Thank you… I’ve been so lonely.” He whispered, making you frown. 

“You won’t have to be anymore. The people here are very kind, you’ll make plenty of friends.” 

“I can tell.” His voice was a little amused now and he pulled back just enough to look at you. “If it’s not too much trouble… could I hug you a little more?” 

“Of course.” You said instantly, then let out a startled sound when he lifted you onto his lap so you were straddling his thighs. You thought he meant more as in for a longer period of time, not.. this…

“Thank you.” He said again, pulling you closer and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You were stiff for a few seconds, still trying to process this new development, but finally you relaxed into him and hugged him a little tighter. “I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like.” He whispered against your neck. 

“To hug?” You wondered, trying to understand. 

“Yes. But also the gentle touch of a woman.” A blush took over your face and you cleared your throat awkwardly. “You know, my wife… I was with her when she passed.” He said quietly. You were already dreading where this was going, not sure you could handle learning about any more of the pain he’s suffered since the start of everything. “I had a really hard time understanding and accepting this… but she said she wanted me to move on. To be happy again.” One of his arms stayed wrapped around your upper body, but the other moved a little lower, pulling you closer so your hips were also flush with his. 

“Emmett…” You said quietly, trying to pull away, but he just tightened his grip and you finally felt the bulge pressed up against your heat. You tried not to gasp at the realization.

“Shh… It’s okay. I just— You look so much like her…” You had no idea what to say. You’ve never been in a position like this before. “I’m sorry.” He suddenly pulled away and you stared down at him in confusion. “I’m sorry. I don’t deserve this. Not after everything I’ve done— everything I didn’t do.” Your lips parted, but no words could come out for a moment.  

“You deserve feeling safe and cared for. Everything you had to do was for the sake of staying alive.” At least you assumed it was. Honestly you have no idea what he’s done. “And it’s not your fault— what happened to your family. You did everything you could.” You said softly and he started shaking his head. “Yes. You can’t blame yourself, Emmett. Maybe that’s why your wife said that to you before she passed… because she knew how much you’d struggle with it.” 

“You remind me of her so much.” He said through a choked sob, making you freeze. You had no idea he’d get so emotional. Not knowing what else to do, you just pulled him back into the hug and held him tightly. “That’s exactly the kind of response she would’ve given.” He croaked. In response, you just hugged him even tighter. 

“It’s okay…” You whispered. “I’m so sorry, Emmett. No one deserves to go through what you have.” 

“It hurts.” He cried, making your heart ache for him. 

“Tell me what you need. How can I help?” You said quickly, not wanting to see him like this any longer. 

“Can I— can I kiss you?”

“What?!” You choked out, making him pull back to look at you. The tear tracks on his cheeks were far less than what you thought they’d be, but maybe they just wiped off on your dress. 

“Please. I miss her so much and… god you look exactly like her.” He whispered, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. 

“I…” You’ve never kissed anyone before. Are you really about to give it away to a stranger you just met less than an hour ago? “Emmett…”

“I know I don’t deserve it— I know. But I just… it hurts so bad, I can’t take it.” He all but whimpered, making your hesitant expression melt into something softer and more sympathetic. 

“…I’ve never kissed anyone before.” You admitted quietly and you swore his eyes darkened, but it was too hard to really tell. 

“I know I’m asking far too much of you— I know I don’t deserve your kindness,” 

“Stop saying things like that.” You frowned. “You deserve kindness, you deserve to feel loved, just like everyone else.” He stared at you for a moment, his eyes still glossy with tears, then he was suddenly leaning forward and capturing your lips in a kiss. You let out a muffled sound of surprise and brought your hands to his chest, trying to push him away. In response, he snaked his hand around your head to grasp your hair, holding you still as he moaned quietly. 

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled against your lips. You let out another startled sound when he suddenly threw you off of him so you were laying on your back on the couch. Before you could move away, he was crawling over you, kissing you again as his hands roamed your body. 

“Emmett-” You tried to say as you continued pushing his chest, but he was too strong. “Stop!” 

“I know.” He panted before snaking his hand down your stomach all the way to the apex of your thighs. He slipped under your dress easily and roughly cupped your sex, making you whimper. 

“Emmett, please stop.” 

“I will. I will— I just need this. I haven’t been with a woman in so long…” He whispered. “I promise I’ll be fast.” 

“Please don’t,” You whimpered, already feeling tears brimming in your eyes. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” His hand suddenly left your body to open his pants and free his cock, then he was pulling your panties to the side and lining up. 

“Please! I- I’m a..” You sobbed, trying anything to get this to stop. 

“I’ll be gentle.” He promised, then faltered and added, “At least… I’ll try to be.” When you felt the head of his cock drag through your folds, your body went completely rigid. 

“Please! Emmett, please don’t,” You cried, still trying to push him away. 

“Shh…” The blunt head of his cock was against your entrance now, pushing as hard as possible, trying to fit inside you. When he finally breached your opening, his hand slapped over your mouth, muffling your shrill scream. “Oh— fuck… I'm not gonna last.” He moaned loudly, letting his head drop down for a moment. The tears in your eyes were finally falling and you sobbed almost violently behind his hand. Your crying only got worse though when he continued pushing in. 

“Almost there.” He whispered and you let out an anguished sob in response. It felt like you were being ripped open as he continued pushing deeper, a lot farther than what you could comfortably take. “Good girl… Just a little more.” Your body was trembling from the pain and you started clawing at him, trying anything to get this to stop. But he was undeterred. When he finally bottomed out, he let out a low groan that was overshadowed by your cry of pain. 

“I know… I’m sorry. Fuck, you feel so good. Just like how she felt.” He whispered. “I think she’d be happy that it’s you.” He gave you a small smile, then slowly pulled out until only the tip was inside before forcing it back in. 

“Please!” You cried, the word coming out muffled from behind his hand. 

“God- your cunt is so good.” He groaned, picking up the pace, making you cry harder. 

“Stop! Please…” You whimpered brokenly. 

“I know, baby. I’m almost done, I promise.” He said breathily. You tried kicking your legs, thrashing under him, pushing him away, but he was too strong. “Just a little longer, you’re doing so good.” He removed his hand, but before you could scream, he was kissing you again. This time, he shoved his tongue passed your parted lips, licking into your mouth in a desperate, almost feral manner. That, along with the fact that you couldn’t focus on this kiss because of how hard you were crying, made it incredibly messy and sloppy and wet. 

He snapped his hips into you, chasing his orgasm as he kissed you like he’d never be able to kiss anyone ever again, making it feel like you could barely breathe. Mostly because of the kiss, but also because of how overwhelming the pain of the stretch was. He continued kissing you and his facial hair felt scratchy against face, only furthering your discomfort. 

“I’m close.” He whispered against your lips. At least it was almost over. “I haven’t filled up a cunt in over a year.” He practically growled, making you stiffen again. 

“N-no… Emmett, please don’t. Please pull out.” You begged desperately, trying to speak coherently through all of the crying. 

“I thought you said I deserve this? That I deserve to finally be happy after everything.” He frowned, making you falter. 

“I didn’t mean… this.” You choked out, not sure what else to say. 

“I know…” He said quietly, letting his eyes flutter shut. “I’ll try to pull out.” 

“Emmett, please. You have to,” He leaned down and cut you off with another kiss as his thrusts became even rougher. 

“You’re such a good girl…” He murmured against your lips, breathing heavily as he neared his release. “So good. I’m gonna make you mine. I’ll take care of you, just like I took care of her. But we’ll be safe this time...” You shook your head, unable to do anything else. “No monsters, no illness— It’s gonna be perfect. We’ll even have some boys, yeah?”

“No,” You sobbed, quickly feeling defeated. You couldn’t stop this no matter how hard you tried. “Please, Emmett… I just turned 18, I- I can’t…” He moaned quietly when you said that. 

“Shh. Yes you can. I’ll help you, baby, we’ll do it together.” You shook your head in disagreement as you continued to cry. “Fuck,” He choked out, eyes closing again. “Ready?” 

“No— no, Emmett… please. Please pull out!” You yelled, making him curse under his breath. With one final groan, he forced his cock all the way in, pushing up against your cervix uncomfortably. 

“Oh, good girl.” He moaned, lazily rutting into you as he rode out his high. “So fucking good. So tight… milking every fucking drop.” He said proudly, making you cry harder at the verbal reminder that he just came inside you. 

“Emmett…” You whimpered, feeling his cock twitch inside you. 

“Thank you.” He said through a breath. “Thank you so much.” He almost sounded like he was about to cry in relief and that made you falter. This man has been alone for weeks, just haunted by the memories of his family with no real outlet or source of comfort. So when someone finally offered him some… he jumped at the chance immediately. You probably would’ve done the same, had you lost your entire family. 

“And I meant what I said. I’m going to keep you safe this time, I promise.” He said quietly, reaching down to feel where his cock was bulging your stomach— where a baby would be growing soon enough. “All of you.” 

[vixstarria]

Mark me as yours

This takes place immediately after and is interlinked with 'Missionary with the lights off' but from Astarion's rather than Tav's POV - check it out if you haven't already, the fics complement each other.

Soft sassy Astarion, F!Tav, Gale, minor appearances by other origin characters, Astarion POV

Fluff, humour, banter, pining, non-explicit sexual references

A day in camp in the life of Astarion. Features brooding, sewing, doing laundry, being dramatic, engaging in improper use of archmage of Waterdeep, reading erotica, and more!

Approx. 2,000 words

AO3

You frowned at the stuffed bear you held in your hands, weighing up your desire to showcase your skills against the absurdity of the task at hand.  

The whole thing was coming apart and needed to be washed and restuffed if you were to do this properly. What was inside, anyway? Fur..? You supposed you could go hunt something furry. Or maybe save yourself the time and just give Scratch a quick partial shave, he wouldn’t mind – the mutt lying at your feet was stupid enough to like you. To prefer you over anyone else, in fact.  

You reached down to give him a fond, absentminded pet.  

And then there was the matter of not letting it burn to a crisp the moment Karlach touched it. 

“Is there a flame ward enchantment on this..? Can you reapply it?” you asked Gale, who was nearby at his usual spot by the fire, concocting something edible for the rest of your group. 

“There is and I sure can,” he replied.  

Great. You had gotten yourself into a group project with the wizard to rescue a teddy bear.  

“Don’t tell me this is what Wyll was so concerned about earlier...” Tav had finally made it out of your tent and sat down next to you, looking somewhat less disheveled than how you’d left her.  

“The bag of holding finally tore. Naturally I was the only one competent enough to fix it.” 

You gestured with your thumb towards a towering pile of assorted crap that Wyll and Lae’zel were still sifting through: Lae’zel inspecting and setting aside any weapons and armour she deemed worth keeping, and Wyll sorting through an array of scrolls and potions no one was ever going to use, or would forget were in your possession if the need for them ever did arise.  

“Darling, this is your fault, you know,” you added. “Must you pick up everything?” 

“Karlach made me do it. Also I don’t know what you’re talking about, I am prudence and sensibility personified,” she said. 

“You’re uh... You’re also bleeding,” Gale said, pointing at her neck. 

A trail of blood had started running down from the puncture wounds, which must have reopened.  

Shit. 

Before you could reason yourself out of it, your instincts kicked in and you pressed your mouth against her neck, licking the blood off. By the gods, she actually leaned into you as you did that, not away. You glimpsed a guilty, sheepish smile she threw at Gale, as you pulled away.  

“Idiot... Here, apply pressure, I’ll get the amulet,” you said. 

“I’m the idiot?! You’re the one who ran off to resolve a sewing emergency, like a good little seamstress, before sorting me out!” 

You strode over to your tent, in part to grab the amulet of Silvanus, in part to discreetly tuck away the erection that had immediately started developing as soon as you tasted her blood.  

Hells, am I 239 or 15? you thought, annoyed with yourself.  

“An amulet? I was wondering why you’d stopped visiting me in the mornings...” you heard from Shadowheart. 

“We have a system,” Tav replied.  

“Clearly,” laughed Shadowheart. 

A scene from the night sprung up in your mind as you went about your day: 

She’d fallen asleep on your shoulder, half lying on you, her nose buried in your neck.  

It was... nice. Really nice. And you didn’t think this bizarre scenario would ever happen again.  

And yet, pleasant as it was, she still felt too far. You needed to feel her closer. Perhaps you were being greedy, but after all these years, why should you get anything less than exactly what you wanted? 

Carefully, very carefully lest she stir awake and leave, you rolled over onto your side, holding her against you.

She was still asleep. Good...   

You cautiously slipped lower and lower until your head was at her chest, delicately wrapping your arms around her torso. 

Then she stirred.  

Shit. 

Without waking, she sighed, drawing you into a tight embrace, clutching you against her chest, complete with throwing a leg over your hips to pull you even closer. 

You finally relaxed, your arms wrapped around her waist. 

Perfect... 

She felt so warm... She smelled of comfort. 

You could indulge in this for the night. You would wake up before she did anyway.  

You drifted away, lulled by the beating of her heart. 

You didn’t have any nightmares that night.  

“Is your boyfriend coming?” you heard Karlach somewhere in the distance.  

You cringed at the juvenile term. Still, you were curious how she would answer.  

“He’s on laundry duty,” she responded. “Just us gals today.” 

“So your idea of doing washing is to pawn everything off to me,” said Gale. 

“Vampires and running water, remember,” you said. “Also you don’t look like you’re exerting an awfully large amount of effort yourself... Although I must admit, this is ingenious.” A little flattery wouldn’t hurt.

Gale sat at a riverbank at a deeper section of the river. Some sheets and clothing were being tossed and spun in a small bubbling whirlpool within the water, together with foaming slivers of soap. 

“Surely few archmages possess such finesse and creativity?” you continued. 

Gale sighed and motioned for you to throw your bundle in as well, expanding the whirlpool.  

“Just toss your shirt in too, it's splattered with blood,” Gale added wearily.  

Her scent lingered on it. The last thing you wanted was to wash it off.

You pulled the shirt over your head and hurled it into the whirlpool.  

“Not Tav’s creative nailwork, I presume..?” Gale asked with a wince, looking at your back.  

“Nope” was all you said, as you pulled a book out from your pocket, making yourself comfortable on the bank. To his credit, the wizard did not probe further. 

‘Mark me as yours’ 

Those words had been echoing in your mind over and over all day.  

It couldn’t have meant anything.  

A little expression of some vampire fetishism finally poking through – you shouldn’t have expected any different from her, she did offer you her blood consistently, not even asking for anything in return.  

Still, you’d felt like something inside you might burst from your desire and thrill when you heard those words.   

And then everything that followed after... 

You had actually lost yourself for a short while. Not dissociated and detached. Lost yourself. In bliss. In the scent of her skin, in the sounds of her need for you, in the sensation of her blood merging with yours and flowing through your veins. 

And now she was walking around somewhere, with telltale bitemarks on her neck for all the world to see. Scandalous... 

No, it couldn’t have meant anything.  

‘Mark me as yours’ 

Still... What a pleasant little fantasy... 

‘Yours’ 

“You’ve been smiling at that page for ten minutes straight now,” Gale’s voice snapped you out of your musings.  

“It’s my favourite page,” you retorted. 

“What’s it about?” he asked snidely after a short pause.  

“I have no idea,” you confessed, begrudgingly, snapping the book shut. If the wizard knew what was best for him, he would abstain from any further comments.  

“She’s quite fond of you,” Gale said sombrely after another pause.  

“Is this about to turn into one of those ‘You break her heart – I'll break your face’ talks?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“Oh gods no,” Gale laughed. "No, I would go straight to incineration... You just strike me as the type that needs to have the obvious spelled out for them.” 

“I am not entering this type of discourse with someone who’s presently washing my spend off my bed sheets,” you said, laying back and shutting your eyes, to bask in the sun. No answer followed. 

Not even a minute had passed when a shadow fell over you.  

Odd, you thought. There hadn’t been a single cloud in the sky. 

You opened your eyes to see a giant water bubble hovering a few meters above you. Was that... a bedsheet floating in the middle..? 

Worth it, you thought just as the undulating bubble spilt and crashed over you.  

You coughed and spat, trying to untangle yourself from the sheet, as the unleashed torrent nearly swept you off the bank. And yet, above all else, you found yourself curious. 

The water had no longer been running as part of the river, true, but given its sheer volume and the velocity at which it hit you, it should have hurt more than merely your pride.  

You made it to the edge of the bank, and cautiously dipped a finger in.

Nothing...

You proceeded to submerge your hand, then your entire forearm, to your elbow. 

Nothing.  

Of all things... Why this? Why not your reflection? Why not the blood craving? Oh well. Beggars, choosers... 

You were laughing.  

“This tadpole,” you turned and shouted at Gale, unabashedly stripping yourself of your pants, as Gale turned away, muttering something about going blind, “is the best thing that’s happened to me in centuries!” 

The best? Maybe second best? It had some tight competition, but you supposed nothing would have been possible without it, so it reigned supreme. 

You leaped into the river, diving and letting the gentle current carry you downstream for a while.  

You knew what you would be doing later that evening with her.  

“What have you got there?”  

She slid onto your lap like a cat that refused to take ‘no’ for an answer as it sought attention. You had been idling away your time by your tent, with some pulp you had picked up earlier. The rest of the group had been drinking and roasting something at the campfire.  

“Trash. Disappointingly boring trash, this time,” you answered. 

“No pulsating flesh tunnels in this one?” 

“Alas... There were not one but two mentions of ‘velvet-wrapped steel’ however, and plenty of ‘sword-sheathing’.” 

“To the hilt?” 

“Is there any other way?” 

“Wouldn’t want to sheathe it only partially, I suppose...” she mused. “Come join us. We found some half-decent wine. And you don’t have to be alone all the time, you know.” 

“Spare me, I’ve had enough of Gale’s lectures and Wyll’s tales for the day. And besides, ugh, all those chewing noises!” You made a gagging sound. 

None of them want me there. 

“Oh don’t be such a delicate princess,” she rolled her eyes. “How’s this: it’s our joint meal time. It would be rude and completely unfair to exclude anyone. You should sit down with everyone, bite down on my wrist and make a great deal of slurping.” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

Delightful. Simply delightful. 

“It will be funny!” 

“I fear you might be the only one laughing, darling.” 

That is hilarious, I can just imagine Gale squealing or getting sick. 

“Is there anyone else you’d care to make laugh?” she asked with a slight upturn of her lips. 

Not in the least. 

“I could die again knowing I have accomplished something if I ever make Lae’zel laugh. But perish the thought – I am perfectly happy right here with my literature.” 

“Well, if you don’t want to join the group, perhaps I will stay and you can...” She snatched the book from your hands and tossed it aside, leaning in and bringing her lips up to your ear. “...Release your kraken in my field of rose petals,” she purred in a sultry voice. 

“Stop,” you choked back a snicker.  

“Get tangled up in my beef curtains?” she continued with the same tone. 

“You’re disgusting.” 

“Sink your meat shaft in my cream tart!” she persevered.  

“By the gods, woman, I am never having sex with your again.” 

“Suckle the nectar from my weeping core!” 

“Alright, fine, I’ll go, anything is better than this.” You got up, pushing her off your lap. 

“Taste my forbidden, oozing fruit, Astarion!” she cried out from the ground behind you as you covered your ears and shouted “LALALALA”, making your way towards the campfire. 

You would endure the prattle of your companions.  

Then you would take her for a moonlit swim in the river.  

Then you would see if she might spend the whole night in your arms again.  

Perhaps she could sleep in your shirt and leave her scent on it again – it was foolish to sleep completely in the nude out in the wild after all, what if there were intruders? 

Everything was going according to plan, you reminded yourself.  

~~~~~

Next in series - Down by the river

Series master list

AO3

Tags: @littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny

Also @spacebarbarianweird - you haven't asked for a tag but sounded interested

[to-thelakes]

wrapped up

pairing; frank castle x fem!reader

summary; after coming back from the bar, frank takes care of you with a hot shower and wrapping you up in blankets.

warnings; fluff, domestic fluff, domestic frank castle, self-indulgent, showering together

notes; hello hello! so this is my day 8 fic for fluffbruary, day 9 is partially written and i have a few ideas for 10 and 11 but i'm back in uni tomorrow so whether i will get anything done is really anyone's guess! but here's day 8. this originally was going to be written differently but since yesterday was really not the one for me, i wrote it more self-indulgently because i needed that frank castle lovin'! so here's domestic frank looking after reader <3

ao3

It was meant to be a fun night out but it had ended in disaster. You were also frozen to the bone. Your jacket did very little to protect you from the blustery winds and despite taking a cab, you were still freezing. By the time that you got into your apartment, your teeth were chattering. 

Frank was cooking in the kitchen when you came inside, arms wrapped around yourself. Your eyes were red and teary from the crying at the bar but you were fine now. You were so emotionally strung out that it really didn’t matter anymore.

“Hey,” Your voice was hoarse as you closed the apartment door behind you. Frank glanced back, a smile spreading across his face at your sudden appearance. You hung your jacket up and kicked off your shoes before walking over to him. He was stirring a pot.

“How was it?” He asked. You shrugged, not really in the mood to speak about it.

“Awful,” You admitted. You wrapped your arms around his waist, snuggling into his back. A frown formed on his lips and he shivered at the feeling of your cold skin against his. “You’re so cold, sweetheart,” He said after a beat. You let out a grunt of agreement but you were honestly more than content to stay here with Frank, pressed up against him. A contented sigh left your lips and he couldn’t help but chuckle softly, “Gotta let this simmer, let’s get you a shower, hm?” He suggested. You let out a grumble of annoyance before pulling your arms away from him. There was a begrudging acceptance but Frank knew you and knew that you would have rather stayed pressed against him for the rest of the evening.

“You’re coming in with me,” You declared as you wandered over to the bathroom. Frank chuckled but nodded his head.

“Yes, ma’am.” A smile couldn’t help but break out across your face and once you had both entered into the bathroom, you stripped down. The cute top and jeans you had been wearing for the night were discarded and Frank warmed the shower up while you wiped your make-up off. The mascara had already smudged and some of it had come off due to your tears in the bar so you were glad to be rid of it.

Frank wrapped his arms around you, naked body pressed against yours as you used a cotton pad to wipe down your eyes. He just watched your reflection, admiring you as you went through your usual routine. It was only when you were done that he let go of you. Then, the two of you stepped into the steamy hot shower.

Frank let you get under the spray first and you tilted your face to be underneath it. The water rushed down your face before you pushed it back into your hair and turned around. Before you had the chance to, Frank’s hands had come up to push the water off your closed eyelids. He then leant forward and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

“Y’so pretty,” He mumbled against your lips. A grin split across your face and you opened your eyes to look into his. There was something so soothing about being here. After tonight, after what had happened at the bar, you wanted to be with him. It made you feel a little more sane. You tugged him under the spray with you, water dripping down both of your bodies as you leant into him. His hand moved to cradle your back, holding you against him.

It took everything in you to stop yourself from sobbing. You knew that he wouldn’t mind but you didn’t want to have to think about it. You just wanted to be happy with him and you wanted to talk about it with Frank but not right now. It would make you angry and you didn’t want to be angry. You just wanted to be here with Frank, with your boyfriend and everything would be okay.

“Where’s your body wash?” You asked against his damp skin. Your head tilted up and he nodded his head towards the edge of the tub where all your products were. A grin spread across your face and you stepped back from him, reaching out towards it.

“What’re you doing, sweetheart?” His eyebrow was raised as he watched you pick it up. You then flicked the cap open and were about to pour some gel into your hand but his stopped you.

“Using your shower gel,” You responded, giving him a cheeky grin. He shook his head and grabbed the bottle from your hand, “Hey,” The frown quickly took over your face and he poured some into his hand. The sting of rejection began to seep back in and you felt the tears begin to prick at your eyes again.

“Turn around,” He instructed. You tilted your head, giving him a curious look before you followed his instructions. You weren’t under the spray of water anymore and then you felt his hands on your shoulders. He spread the shower gel along your shoulders before trailing his hands down your back. You melted. You were pretty sure you would have melted into a puddle if that didn’t defy the laws of the universe.

His fingers dug into your back, massaging your shoulders while lathering the gel up against your back. Your head fell backwards, a soft groan of pleasure escaping your lips. Frank smiled softly and leant forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Gotta take care of my baby,” He mumbled in your ear. You grinned and turned your head around so you could capture his lips in a kiss. His hands moved from your shoulders to your hips, letting you decide how long you wanted to stay like this. It was a soft kiss, tender and it made you breathless. You were panting when you broke away and you leant down, pressing a kiss to his chest before you turned back around.

His hands left you and he squirted some more gel onto his hands and then began to spread it across your stomach and up your chest. He ran his hands down your arms, lathering up every inch of your body with all the love and affection you needed in that moment. He was able to read you perfectly and by the time he was done, you felt so relaxed. All the tension, anxiety and anger had slipped away into happiness. 

You slipped back under the spray and Frank let you wash away the gel as he began to apply some to himself. You frowned, ready to argue with him but before you could even get a word in, he told you to just wash yourself off. You wanted to help him, you wanted to give him all the attention that he had given you. But Frank was a selfless lover, sometimes.

Once you had both washed up, he wrapped you up in a fluffy towel. You both dried off before walking to the bedroom and changing into your comfortable pyjamas.

“When is dinner ready?” You asked as you followed Frank back into the main room of the apartment. He glanced at the clock.

“Not long, just relax f’me, yeah?” You nodded in response to his words. There was no way you could argue with that tone and so you plopped yourself down on the sofa. The shower had significantly warmed you up and the emotions from tonight had been washed down the drain with sudsy water. But you were still cold.

As you curled up on the sofa, Frank could hear you shivering every few minutes. So, once he had checked on the sauce that still needed a minute or so to finish simmering, he headed back to the bedroom and brought out a stack of blankets. You glanced up at him as he walked over, fluffy stack in hand.

“Sit up f’me, sweetheart,” He requested and you followed. He then began to wrap you up in layers of blankets. You couldn’t help but chuckle as he made sure they were all wrapped securely around you. It was a warm cocoon and seeing Frank smile at you made it feel more loving than silly. Though you still felt silly.

“How am I supposed to eat?” You muttered. He rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss against your head.

“Stick your arms out, shit, I dunno, but I gotta keep you warm,” He retorted. You couldn’t help but bark a laugh at his response. You adjusted your position slightly and were able to get your hands to stick out from the cocoon of blankets. The air was so cold but you grabbed onto Frank’s hips and pulled him down into you.

“I love you,” You whispered against his lips before capturing them in a kiss. It was soft at first, closed-mouth kisses against each other before you ran your tongue along his bottom lip. He let your tongue slip into his mouth and you moved your hands to dig into his hair. The smell of him was surrounding you and you felt at peace for the first time since you had left for work that morning. Frank made everything so much better and you didn’t want to stop kissing him.

But then he pulled back, “I wanna keep kissin’ you, baby, but dinner’s gonna burn.” You pouted up at him but he gave you one last kiss to placate you before he walked back over to the kitchen. You switched the TV on and curled up under the mountains of blankets as you watched the crappy reality show on the TV and listened to the sound of Frank cooking.

Frank always seemed to know exactly what he needed to be and despite everything, despite everything, he was there for you. It made you love him so much.

<3

[weirdmageddon]

why i think aradia and john work so well

(with some stuff i’ve been wanting to yap about for ages)

have you guys ever given arajohn / johnradia (idk if its popular enough to even have a standardized ship name) any thought …? i know it seems kind of out of left field. i’ve considered it and i think its. really really good. i have a bunch of thoughts to unpack. come join me. and maybe grab a snack or something because i didn’t realize how much i'd actually have to say about this

(fantastic art by skeletood)

the other day i made a tweet that did rather well where i said, “john and aradia shouldve talked more. its so simple but i like how she actually earnestly answers his questions. so many characters in this comic are so mean to john for just wanting to know more give him a break”

putting it out there now im not big about shipping for the sake of shipping. there needs to be real chemistry. i need to sense that as a reason why two characters would potentially be a good influence on each other. i never knew why i was always so obstinate about this because it’s fictional and not materially hurting anyone, but i think it might be because i’m not sure how to justify it or explain it if not.

i strongly believe john and aradia would have had it made out for them if circumstances allowed it. (what i mean by “ship” or “johnradia” extends to any kind of interpersonal dynamic, even if just a good friendship. it doesnt even have to be romantic, just some sort of dynamic with them.)

unfortunately aradia originally committed herself to staying out of trolling the kids over their timelines, so john and aradia never talked until year 3 on the ship in the dream bubbles but they never had a truly proper one-on-one without outside meddling. i think if john knew aradia better and her story beforehand, she had more time to explain herself and her history, he wouldnt have been unsettled. and also of course if his experience with the trolls didn’t suck so bad because he already had expectations for how antagonizing most of them were.

i found people’s sentiments about johnradia elsewhere too. i remembered that they were both on the song art for ascend, and searched ao3 to see how many fics have been written to gauge how substaintial it’s been in the homestuck fandom. only 17 of them turned up. but the people who do talk about it are either curious about it or really do like it, and that interested me.

clearly it’s pretty niche character relationship to be depicted in any fanwork and i can understand why. despite being so small, from what ive seen it seems universally agreed upon to be nice. i haven’t seen a single person object to it. what ive seen falls into two categories: “wow i didnt think about this before but i actually dig it” or “(starving) finally some good fucking food”

the pattern im seeing is that people think it’s “random”, but i disagree. there is something there substantiating it even if they’re unable to articulate it.

the fanfic these comments are from is chronology of wind. that fic is really, really good, and sadly unfinished. i have more abstract reasons to believe why aradia and john would be good in theory, so actually seeing someone else actually make something with them helped me read it in action, to get a more tangible feel of the dynamic beyond what we have in canon.

i wouldn’t normally make claims about a relationship with regard to homestuck canon by looking at their relationship in a fanfic, because i think you all know by now i am very nitpicky about accurate characterization, and it does not go unnoticed by me when people get it right because for some reason it feels like a one in a million thing (even though it really shouldn’t be?). so this was a special case. the tone was completely consistent with canon. this fic is so in-character i’d basically consider it an extension of canon. to me it’s like they took the same characters and plopped them into this scenario to see how they’d interact. guys… i love that stuff so much. i love fanfiction or fanworks that depict realistic extensions of canon and stays true to the energy and tone of the source, but deepens it. there isn’t enough of it imo. i want to see more of it.

anyway, what i read of their conversations in that fic basically aligned with what i was thinking in my head about what i’d expect it to be like. i was able to compare how aradia and john talked to how aradia and the other characters interacted, their comparative attitudes towards each other—how they’re treated by others compared to how they treat each other.

have you noticed john and aradia’s communication values are both based on sincerity, being in the proper know, treating people fairly, and thanklessly taking on the necessary work that “must be done” in order to have what they really want — a good time that feels meaningful? and they accomplish this without any adjustment in how they talk to each other.

john is always subtly (or not-so-subtly) asking the people around him to answer him soberly and to the point so he knows whats going on and what that means for what his options are. he needs to know to what end he will be applying his absurd energetic drive into making shit happen. aradia honors his time before john can even become uncomfortable with the amount of time being eaten up by conversation. contrast this with rose, who seems to go on for a while with prose-like conversational adornments. in dire situations that need rapid explanation and definitive answers so he knows what to do, this is really the last thing he needs. aradia doesnt waste john’s time. she answers all his questions, and does it politely to boot. his time talking to her doesn't feel wasted.

john's impatience with this sort of nonsense is also why i can’t see something like dirkjohn working out, for example. to me it feels like @entropicbias also deeply understands this on some level because i literally couldn’t have demonstrated what i mean by it any better myself than that. i'm gonna have to to hit him up about how much i genuinely respect that like tbh hes one of the few i absolutely trust to handle writing and depicting these characters in situations and their interpersonal dynamics. and also care about doing their characterization justice as much as me.

of course people are still entitled to like whatever they like, ship whatever they want to. i dont care. but i just don’t think it would work from the perspective of the minds of the canon characters, how they generally think and approach situations. and i can already tell people might ask me how do i know this? what makes me an expert? i’m not more than anyone else is (although i have been called a "characterization expert" from my friends), but i do know that i can pick up on the energetic chemistry between people, including characters, honestly precognitively, without even thinking? like if it’s stiff or tense or awkward, if people aren’t free to express themselves uninhibitedly, if they feel unsafe or uncomfortable. i can sense this almost instantly. it’s something that’s a visceral feeling in my body i cant express and i have to rationalize it after the fact. like i’m doing now in fact writing this big analysis.

> listen to me talk about my special interest boy

for the next section to make sense, you probably want to read this post. i initially started writing it within this post to explain but there was so much brewing i had to explain the context that it turned into something i wanted to post on its own terms.

> okaaaaaayyyyy i read all that

thank you, really. my main point is using the conceptual tools provided by this system to expIain why aradia and john feel nice together and why i’ve seen people positively perceive the idea of a relationship between them even if it seems “random”.

framing them in this system, it wouldn’t be random! there’s a good reason they seem to fit nicely. this is because john and aradia have complementary forms of information metabolism. information metabolism is talked about in this section.

Jung’s psychic types are the types of cognition, or intelligence. But it would probably be easiest to call them types of IM [information metabolism], since the main difference between the types of people lies in their exchange of information with the external world.

Aushra Augusta, Commentary on Jung’s Typology and Introduction to Information Metabolism

aradia megido’s type of information metabolism (otherwise known as a TIM) is LII. john egbert’s TIM is ESE.

aradia and john’s types are duals. you can read more about what that entails here. in theory, their interactions would reflect the duality dynamic. reading chronology of wind, that one really in-character fic that explored their dynamic made me excited because they do!

michael pierce gave an overview of his impression of the characteristics of this intertype dynamic. despite only rough knowledge in socionics while he wrote this, his understanding of duality was spot on to me from my experience and others and i wanted to share it here. (fittingly, i believe he is also LII.)

Now we have the famous duality relationship: in a nutshell, this role is characterized by two traits: 1) a very close psychological distance or intimacy, and 2) a great ease of interacting with each other. It is sometimes described how meeting one's dual can be the event of a lifetime, because it inspires aspects in each party's character that they had never expressed before: the pair may even drop out of society for a time in order to focus on just each other, and to explore themselves through interaction with each other. The curious thing in this relationship is that these parties are rather different in outlook, and when they are not actually interacting as potential friends it's probably more likely for them to dislike or mistrust each other because of how different they are. […] However, when they are able to interact normally, it is a strange and wonderful discovery to realize that the interaction is unexpectedly smooth and invigorating. It's hard for people to describe, but as I understand it: while both parties recognize their differences on the surface, these differences are created by a root structure that coincides perfectly with each other, so that the differences on the surface are entirely complementary and cause no friction at all.

it’s also meaningful to consider that the structure of my own psyche is LII as well. so i’ve got a bit of a bias towards aradia and john.. not in the sense that what i actually say about them is personally biased, but that the bias is moreso my personal attention to people and characters of these two types in particular to see how my own experiences are reflected in them. i really do feel of a reflection of my own thought and work process in aradia and in the more abstract sense she is like an extension of myself. when people say they like aradia as a character i get secondhand joy from that because shares certain specific traits with me. of course i am still my own person though.

these are some of the most apt profiles i've found for these types at a glance. again, think about these characters as you read these descriptions. [from here (ESE / LII)]

ESE (Ethical-sensory extrovert) - john

The trademark quality of this type is a focus on socializing and guiding social situations and interactions so that the people involved can have fun and enjoy themselves. ESEs are typically in the middle of what is happening socially and know about the latest events and what people think and feel about them. They are skilled at bringing people together in fun and interesting ways and making everyone feel actively involved. Their friends know them as people who love life and feel most at home in social situations surrounded by other fun people. In their pursuit of fun-oriented and stimulating social interactions, ESEs typically neglect to structure their own thought processes and views in a way that would help them know exactly what they think and why. They are receptive to others’ attempts to help them introduce more structure and logical consistency in their life and thinking processes. They gravitate most to people who open up to fun and emotional interaction easily, yet are also skilled at systematizing thoughts and views and explaining ideological matters.

LII (Logical-intuitive introvert) - aradia

The trademark quality of this type is a focus on logical, structured thought and generating true assertions and views. LIIs are typically strict thinkers who are concerned that everything fits together in a logical way. They are skilled at understanding, generating, and criticizing logical arguments and instilling their views in the people around them. Their friends know them as people with well-organized thoughts and opinions who know what they think and can elucidate their ideas to others. In their pursuit of logical understanding, LIIs typically neglect their external social interactions and activities that would help them lighten up and experience a connection with other people. They are receptive to others’ attempts to create these fun and lighthearted situations for them. They gravitate most to people who are interested in their opinions and understanding of things, but are also skilled at organizing social interactions and creating a sense of emotional unity.

ive recently consciously experienced the feeling of duality for the first time since i've been communicating with my mom's high school classmate, and it is definitely a real thing. i even remember mom pointing out she noticed when we were all talking on the phone over a year ago that i perked up whenever he said stuff. here is how i explained it:

its bonkers how only once i experience something for myself i’m able to explain in detail what makes it so great based on what my impressions about it were because i tend to have a peculiar way of describing the qualities of an experience. my specialty is deep precision in my analogies for what it’s like. so now i can tell you how conversations with your dual feel… heres the status report. it’s weightless. its so strange. like the topic conversation stretches into infinity that you can pick right back up at any time. it’s hazy and unfocused but still pleasant (unless you’re particularly self-conscious and need to unlearn hiding your true self). but the best parts of it come when you have a specific issue or insecurity that comes with being your most natural self that the world seems to misunderstand about you, or just not give you what you don't even know you’ve been looking for. i think you might mutually intimidate each other at first because you're lowkey both expecting to be made fun of for your inadequacy with certain types of information that the other is nuanced with (and you’re not), but it never comes. you don't feel like what your dual wants in life is wrong. your dual seems so talented in all the ways you hope to shine but you’re always unsure of. for the introvert (me) wishing they felt their own active presence as an object (Se, Ne, Te, Fe) like the extravert does. for the extravert, wishing they felt their own relationships with other objects (Si, Ni, Ti, Fi) like the introvert does. any other intertype relationship (ITR) vs. duality is like the difference between 99% and 100% totality of a solar eclipse, except it’s the level of understanding with another person, like the eclipsing of your own information metabolism with theirs. of course there are other things that influence how well your relationship with this person goes, but i am talking strictly about when it comes to basic communication, the level of understanding you share. sometimes it might feel like you dont have much to talk about or the topic is unfocused, because you two ARE opposites in many ways after all, especially at a glance (domain of interests usually come with specific macroelements. theories about thought structures—like socionics, for instance—are in the domain of intuition, while physical interests and experiences are in the domain of sensorics.) i’m LII in the NT club (researchers) and my dual ESE in the SF club (social-communicative). so they’re constantly providing you with information from their own niche in life that you may be entirely unfamiliar with, but for some reason still interests and relaxes you to hear. you might not feel like you have a lot to say about the topic since but you are fully amazed by this person’s activity. it also makes you feel more sure of yourself and more confident that people truly appreciate and need your natural abilities.

> let’s break it down

here’s some lightly modified descriptions of the information blocks in LII and ESE's information metabolism models from pyatnitsky so you can get an overarching impression of how their type contributes to the informational sphere. i added some of my own adjustments and borrowed some sentences from stratiyevskaya's descriptions. additionally, you can click on the name of the block for an explanation of the role it plays.

i put about a week’s work into these collages but my goal with them was to actually show where i think these information blocks are most pertinent in these characters specifically and where they apply so it’s not just some abstract thing, just as supplementary examples as needed. (for the meaning of these information elements individually you can refer to cysia’s document.)

LII (Logical-intuitive introvert)

EGO (-Ti? -> -Ne!). Analytical thinking. They are well aware of the interrelationships of some objects or phenomena with others, and what laws are in effect or not in effect. On the basis of a comprehensive analysis, they put forward insights about the global essence of specific objects and phenomena, their possibilities. They acutely charge the situation with potential energy. For every situation, there is an archetype.

Super-EGO (-Fi? -> -Se!). Normative ideas about relationships between people and ways to get out of unpleasant ethical situations. Understands ethics as founded on the principles of fairness; to do to one side of the equation that you do to the other. Volitional manifestations in order to protect their living space are carried out only on the basis of personal experience. Because of the limited opportunities to fight back, they react painfully to attempts of any interference in his life. Does not respond to any arbitrary crudeness or volitional pressuring. Does not compromise goals, stubbornly clings to them. Avoids direct confrontation if possible, would rather talk civilly and earnestly. Uses their naturally strong sense of the conditioning of objects over time to avoid collisions with their material interests. Due to this, they may appear as someone with very little weaknesses.

Super-ID (+Fe -> +Si?) Attracts information about a good mood, a specific positive state, or a feeling. They would like to think that they can eliminate serious inconveniences, make the environment around them more comfortable. This skill needs to be evaluated. They are unconsciously activated when there is a need to make the environment more comfortable, which should lead to a better state, raise the mood at least in the immediate environment. In friendly, comfortable, and informal company, their cool exterior thaws and they start lighting up with joviality.

ID (+Te! → +Ni?). Has developed guidelines and methods that relate to specific practical activities, technological effectiveness, and resource use. Spontaneously feels the correct allocation of resources over time, which allows them to effectively solve tasks at an unhurried pace. This pace is deeply rational in nature.

ESE (Ethical-sensory extrovert)

EGO (+Fe! -> +Si?). Perception of the world is fundamentally emotional. Feels the emotional atmosphere well in any situation, knows the relevance of the way of expression, the place and weight (importance) of the internal state in each situation. Flexible approach to solving problems of managing and expressing emotions. They show bright emotionality both negative and positive. Creatively produces around themself comfort, coziness, conveniently arranges space, surrounds others with beautiful things, changing thereby the general condition and mood. Usually opinionated about their tastes.

(wow i really went all out on that this one that tumblr wont even display it in full resolution, so here. john just has so many more lines to choose from, sorry!)

Super-EGO (+Te! -> +Ni?). Practical and technological thinking is tightly based on acquired knowledge and patterns of solving similar problems. Methods of business activity in both general and specific areas are selected based on the opinion of reputable sources, or adjusted to one of the mastered templates. Predicting specific changes in the sphere of their interests is carried out only on the basis of personal experience. He is not able to compare his own method of forecasting with others, so he is sensitive to criticism of poor timing or deadlines, does not like situations that feel like a waste of his time; he is lost in connection with negative events. Guided by purely personal experience, he chooses specific times and deadlines for various tasks with a normative understanding of business activity in general.

Super-ID (-Ti? -> -Ne!). Attracts information about the order, specific logical relationships in the field of activity or interests. Needs someone to suggest specific ways to make connections between phenomena, patterns, and rules. Tries to be reasonable himself, even though he knows that this is not characteristic of him. Sometimes he openly talks of his actions that were poorly reasoned through, as if inviting other people to laugh at his thoughtlessness. The ordering and systematization of thought opens up a new way of understanding of events that are happening around him, as well as new prospects, potential, and capabilities. He likes to think that he understands the essence of a situation and lights up with new ideas. This skill needs to be evaluated. It is unconsciously activated when it is necessary to create order, clear consistency and clarity on a particular issue, especially if their abilities are recognized.

ID (-Fi? -> -Se!). Involuntarily keeps track of communications in their social circle. Without hesitation, they use a variety of ways to establish and maintain relationships that have been developed in his personal practice. Good relationships are important for personal inner confidence in a situation. To prevent unfavorable relationships, they are inclined, often without even realizing it, to act with pressure, forcing a showdown, forcing the partner to change the relationship for the better. Frequently demonstrates his resoluteness, persistence, and purposefulness, as if proposing his behavior as a model for imitation. Usually tells in much detail what obstacles were created before him, and how he overcame them, what he was told in response, and what he replied with, and so on and in the like.

(full res)

you might be able to see already how they would complement each other's thought process nicely. here are some descriptions of what the communication between these types is like:

+Fe! : program function of ESE and dual-seeking function of LII

The ESE periodically tells emotionally charged "program" function stories, telling of how somebody has acted and what they have done. The main orientation of ESE's leading ethical program is: "No one should be offended." The LII carefully listens to these statements, and, demonstrating a full understanding of these issues, develops logical basis for them, e.g. in calm persuasive voice he explains how the ESE has acted justly and fairly. The effusion of turbulent emotions coming from the ESE is counterbalanced by their absorption by the LII, who breaks them down into fragments by asking clarifying questions of the ESE.

-Ti? : dual-seeking function of ESE and program function of LII

The ESE is tuned to accepting information when it's relayed in clear logical form. He issues requests for logical explanations delivered from a point of view of generalized rules underpinning specific life events, which he receives from the LII, who delivers clear unambiguous interpretations, places the dots over all "i's", and demonstrates good understanding of problems that are of concern to the ESE. Not receiving information of this kind, the ESE begins making demands of those around him to be "intelligent" and understand the reasons of his actions.

-Ne! : activating function of ESE and creative function of LII

The ESE feels uncomfortable if he doesn't extend his help to people who are in need of it. His subconscious orientation is: "care and guard the talented", be kind and attentive towards other people. The LII usually meets such criteria by proving in action his aptitude at uncovering hidden capabilities, winning trust, passing on the knowledge. The ESE creates supportive conditions for people who are capable but lacking in assertive "push-through" qualities, among whom the LII finds himself, and a special work regime that protects such individuals from overloads on sensing functions. Newly discovered possibilities inspire and promote the pragmatic and business-oriented activities of the ESE. He can support a new undertaking or initiative with an enormous amount of energy and enthusiasm, light up by new ideas. Only the LII is able to, even having a vague general notion about the subject, construct a developed theory or idea of any issue. This theory shows to be promising in the process of its concrete application within its field.

+Si? : creative function of ESE and activating function of LII

LII tries to take care of their well-being, but may gravitate towards demonstrative asceticism, exhaust himself with work, studies, or exercise. The ESE periodically takes care of creating an environment that "charges" the LII with pleasant sensations: a reception of guests, a good meal, a visit to a theater or a concert, an interesting trip, and so on. At the same time the ESE takes pleasure in this himself.

+Te! : role function of ESE and observing function of LII

The role function of the ESE manifests as business-oriented activity and initiative, supplying interesting information, provision with material assistance to those who are in need, general restlessness and fussy busyness. This function is normative, i.e. the ESE seeks to comply with the norms and accepted ways of doing things. The nuancing of the understanding of these norms, i.e. introduction of activities that go beyond them, is possible only by considering LII's advice and recommendations. The LII serves as a director of this function, adjusting its workings by advocating the necessity of practical application of some beneficial ideas, rejection of useless though spectacular ideas, and the need to ensure standards of life not below average by rejection of equalization.

+Ni? : vulnerable function of ESE and demonstrative function of LII

The ESE poorly feels the flow of time, both physical, which manifests as running late and poor distribution of his strengths over time, and historical, which manifests as poor ability to anticipate consequences of actions and tendency for traditional ways of solving problems. The ESE finds it difficult to make radical choices. The LII fully takes this aspect onto his shoulders. He has an unconscious ability to distribute activities in time, thereby avoiding work stress and overloads, and is capable of making a radical choice. The LII is able to calmly wait and in the necessary moment get to work when the wasteful fussiness of the ESE reaches its critical point.

-Fi? : ignoring function of ESE and role function of LII

On this function the ESE gives advice and makes demands concerning the creation of appropriate psychological distances in form of proper behavior, courtesy and politeness, denouncing rudeness and boorishness. In this manner, the ESE adjusts LII's role function, which in itself contains a set of large psychological distances: a sullen stubborn look, unsociability, etc. With such fine-tuning it becomes easier for the LII to come into contact with people, whereby he becomes more animated, resolves many of his ethical problems that previously frightened him, gains greater insight into human relationships and a more accurate understanding as to whose side to take in situations of conflict.

-Se! : demonstrative function of ESE and vulnerable function of LII

The LII finds it very difficult to exert pressure on other people from his own will and initiative, especially in cases when he needs to attain something for himself. He finds this difficult to do - to press ahead in certain situations, to gather all the required paperwork, to stand in lines and queues, to petition for his own interests, even the ones that are of vital importance to him. He finds it difficult to push a person away, to sharply refuse someone, to quarrel loudly and defend his rights, to put an end to relations that have exhausted themselves. The ESE doesn't directly affect this function, i.e. he doesn't verbally criticize and teach the LII on this aspect, but takes over its functioning completely. The ESE exerts a constant, sometimes intrusive and imposing pressure on other people if there is a need to achieve something, to defend justice and demand fair treatment, to protect interests of those who are close and dear to him. The ESE goes to the right jurisdictions, inspires people around him and directs them towards work and purposeful activity, keeps up a high pace of life himself, and breaks off relations with those who don't deserve trust.

and some miscellaneous excerpts from literature i liked a lot. (i can't remember the sources i used since i've been working on this on and off, for the past week and i was just spilling things onto the post. i think stratiyevskaya?):

Mood - that’s what matters in this dyad - emotions and feelings. Anything that suppresses and overshadows good mood is considered unethical in this dyad and is strongly condemned.

The ESE does not allow the LII to limit him in the possibilities of consuming the amount of pleasures and joys, which he considers to be necessary and sufficient. Fortunately, both partners in the dyad - LII and ESE - are obstinate and unyielding. Both are demanding, unwilling (and not allowing anyone else) to lower the bar of their requirements, unable to give in and make concessions (especially in anything that is of principle for themselves). Both know how to make their partner reckon with their interests and insist on the fulfillment of their demands.

LII is impressed by the emotional generosity of ESE and his spiritual responsiveness. All this finds the deepest understanding in LII, since he is tuned to the same priorities and values. For his part, ESE admires the ability of LII to speak clearly and definitely on every issue. ESE is struck by the harmony of the reasoning of LII, the amazing clarity, accuracy and laconicism of his statements. To ESE it seems that for LII, there is nothing incomprehensible in this world; he can give a comprehensive explanation on every issue. And everything that ESE thought about before is gradually being built into a definite and clear system of views, which he can now very freely and naturally present. Confusion and chaos in his worldview gradually gives way to a stable logical order, as if someone patient and careful was sorting all his thoughts into shelves. Such clarity inspires and activates ESE; he begins to see some prospects for himself, new opportunities. His energy and activity, in addition to emotional and ethical expression, also receives sensory realization: ESE begins to take care of LII and carefully looks after him. If LII is a colleague with whom ESE is especially pleasant to communicate with, he begins to treat him with something tasty, homemade; will make some small, but beautiful and necessary gift (for example: new cologne or a warm scarf).

> okay that's great and all but when are we talking about john and aradia specifically?

yes, that was the point of this post. i just had to build all that up first so i could walk you through my thoughts in a fully substantiated way.

considering chronology of wind again, john doesnt realize it but he needs aradias frankness and insight. even if she’s unable to explicate on vague things, she states the reason why instead of making him feel stupid (it would create a doomed timeline) but thats all john needs to hear. she is self-effacing and only tells him the truth, and we know other people can take advantage of john’s suggestibility in this way. aradia tells john who is or isnt trustworthy, what actions would be useful/necessary and which ones wont, without any selfish personal motive a la vriska or terezi.

^ (juuuust the record my nitpicky ass doesn’t agree with the truth of the classpect interpretation on behalf of the author in the last bit BUT that is beside the point here. the point is that she is answering john’s question in a way that is meaningful for him)

aradia doesnt realize it but she needs john’s friendy goofiness to brighten her up because she is surrounded by people who antagonize her when she’s literally not even trying to get under anyones skin. everybody gets frustrated at her “spooky nonsense” because theyre afraid of their own mortality, basically telling her to put a lid on it because thinking about hard truths makes THEM personally uncomfortable. but to her it’s always just been a fact of life. plugging your ears to reality is ignorance, but at the same time that doesn’t mean there’s no meaning in anything. she wants to help people see this and she dedicates herself to becoming a psychopomp for the deceased and earnestly trying to make people feel emotionally and physically comfortable in their situation through exploring their memories.

john isn’t hostile towards her. by being herself she is immediately able to earn john’s trust when they initially talk. this is also true in canon; the one time they talked when john initially comes up to her, saying “can i ask you something? seem reasonable, and pretty nice.” unfortunately he asked her the one question she didn’t have much to say about, and i can’t blame him for expecting all the troll girls to be basically insane at that point. but i don’t think aradia is insane. yes she is odd, but i think it’s evident that she has a good head on her shoulders with knowledge of the way the universe around her works, and in the end wants to simply bask in watching it play out. i think she deserves to get childishly excited about it, especially considering she was dead for most of her developmental years.

aside from getting his answers answered, john shows curiosity about her and her species and even care about her well-being and state. this naturally comes from their conversation’s ebb and flow. aradia tells this straightforwardly, without bells and whistles and without trying to trick him, unlike the other trolls who seem keen on well..trolling him.. and providing him with unclear answers to those sorts things. maybe aside from vriska, but she did have a little bit of an attitude about it wherein her and john’s dynamic felt uneven or off-rhythm, with a large psychological distance. it’s a different feeling with aradia, however. they exchange information on the same rhythm and so are able to achieve a closer psychological distance in communication.

there are no judgments coming from aradia about john being “stupid”. she doesn’t underestimate him. it’s not just that john wants to understand (although he does), but he needs to understand what he is doing. aradia compliments john about the traits he possesses that allow him to be effective. i guess in a way i’m doing the same thing with john right now.

john is so mobile and strung along by being the action hero going from place to place as a can-do deliveryboy that he never has time to reflect on his losses, think through them, and accept them.

literally who else is more qualified in all of homestuck than aradia for talking to john about these things?

on top of all of this, they have objectively significant connections beyond just mutual self-realization in a way i think could've been fleshed out. there is potential here.

for a story, i can think of a way that a conversation between them could plausibly happen using the systems established in homestuck's mythology. in canon, we see that john never met aradia until year 3 on the golden battleship in the dream bubbles when he goes to sleep.

but john still dreamt out in the furthest ring. that means during those 3 years it was possible for john to have had a dream with her in it, or at least aradiabot. i know john didn't know aradia's name beforehand but let's just explore the possibility that they could have had met before that. remember that all these aradiabots were once this person.

aradia had obtained john's crosbytop, his dads hat, and his wallet quite a while before their sgrub session. theres your entry

imagine john seeing that

memories of dear old dad get stirred up through the link of seeing those items

the dream bubble transforms

john is forced to stand in his memories and explore grief and the meaning of life with aradia

physically being in the space around him would definitely help john reflect easier i think because it will force him to actually exist within the space and talk to someone, taking some time out for this. he wanted to know if anything could've been done or if he was just too late to save them. i know aradia would be able help him slow down and introspect. don't forget the opportunities created by the properties of these spaces that are glubbed out in the furthest ring by the horrorterrors that meld the labyrinthine time and space of their surroundings to the memories of the people and finding others through common points in memory. i would imagine that objects known by multiple people would provide a common point in memory to bring them together.

The bubbles allow the players of Sburb/Sgrub who have lost a life to continue dreaming. The reality constructed in the bubbles is a combination of the memories of everyone inside the bubble accessible to any who has learned the bubble's nature. According to Aradia, it would be quite difficult to exit a bubble to get into a new one, however someone inside a bubble can travel to another one through common points in memory, taking their own memories with them to be integrated into the new bubble. These memories mix and combine, but in general, no new memories are created. Additionally, the bubbles store the consciousness of a player who has lost their dream selves and their original selves, making them double as a form of afterlife; the player is then capable of accessing the memory of anyone else who has gained access to the bubbles. Living players, who have lost or become their dream selves, appear in the dream bubbles when they are asleep. It is in this fashion that the bubbles can be used as meeting places between the dead and the living; even those from alternate universes and doomed timelines can be found in a bubble. Furthermore, in addition to memories, the bubbles can to some extent reflect the thoughts of a player. Beyond that, the bubbles can also behave similarly to Skaia's clouds, showing things that are in some way relevant to the player - such as when coin-flip Dave saw alpha Dave grieving over Bro's corpse - something he was not aware of before being shown it by a bubble.

physically reflect the thoughts of the player…… rubs hands

john and aradia share points in memory related to those objects, and to top it all of they are directly related to john's dad on the same day he died, while aradia grew up with them as bizarre alien artifacts from an archeological dig. the memories are more emotionally charged for john, and i think that distinction would probably be relevant to them both.

to be honest i think after speaking with him for a bit she would readily tell john that she regrets not talking to the kids from the universe her team created sooner before she died, but is glad that she can in the afterlife. in canon, alpha aradia told a doomed dave, "i think its absurd i never introduced myself to you in all that time i spent moping around the lab. guess i wasnt in a very good mood".

now not all the aradiabots would know who john is, because the trolls only found out about the humans once they created the genesis frog and hid out in the lab in the veil from jack who infiltrated their session. the aradiabot in the lab was the last one that survived. so if any one of them would know who john is, it would be the aradiabot that exploded. aradia's dream self ascended to god tier in jack noir's rampage on trolls' derse and took those memories with her which we can assume is what made the last aradiabot explode. its known that any original copy that dies when another rises up becomes a ghost and lives on in the dream bubbles, which would include her. a doomed aradiabot we see in the comic, which was the one that originally landed to alternia in the past, becomes more lighthearted after she dies, a bit more like her alive counterpart.

oh yeah, and the more obvious surface-level connections to top it off? ghostbusters? john ain't afraid of no ghost girl. john would be genuinely interested in what aradia living as a ghost irl on her planet and not as a gaming abstraction in the furthest ring would be like. i imagine she would be able to explain the subjective experience and that she had to prototype herself into the kernelsprite order for her server player to see her. there's also no way john hasn't seen a movie as classic as indiana jones and judging from her poster i can imagine he probably thinks it's sweet that aradia's strife specibus whipkind is a reflection of her own personal tastes, interests and hobbies.

so yeah i've just been chewing on all of this and thinking about it but i know i needed to just get this out there somehow. obviously since i spent two weeks putting this post together i'd be happy to hear your thoughts

[rosylix]

chaotic, my heart is off time

a certain dare leads jisung to discover he may not be as straight as he thinks he is or: felix is really pretty and jisung is confused

pairing: jilix (jisung × felix)

wc: 12.2k

content: college au, fluff, smut, a little angst, they are both awkward cuties tbh, alcohol, passing mention of drugged drink. slight inexperience, extremely platonic handjobs between bros, switch!felix kinda?, sub!jisung semi-awakening, jisung has a lot of feelings that scare him, depictions of anxiety/minor panic attack, sexuality crisis, includes texting screenshots (mainly at the end)

[also read on ao3]

—

It's all Hyunjin's fault, really. 

Jisung has nothing else to blame except his innate stupidity and the one too many drinks he had downed that are making him act even more stupid, if that's even possible. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. This whole thing is just so stupid. 

That's the only thought in his head as he wanders the house of whichever classmate is hosting this party (probably one of Chan's friends, he knows everyone), searching for someone who would be down to let him give them a handjob without it being awkward or weird.

He should've known truth or dare was a terrible idea.

“Hm… I dare you to give someone a handjob,” Hyunjin had said with a smirk. “It can be anyone at the party.”

Jisung blinked. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

“But how will you even know, like…”

“I'll know,” he said simply, and gave him an unsettling look like he knew something Jisung didn't.

And that was it. Jisung was pushed out of the room, practically sent to the wolves to complete the dare before midnight. He felt like a fucked up rendition of Cinderella or something.

A handjob? Really, Hyunjin? Jisung doesn't even swing that way and yet he can't find it in himself to back down from the dare. He knows it's a problem, his inability to admit defeat when faced with a challenge. Not to say that the alcohol buzzing through his system isn't playing a part as well. It definitely is.

Jisung lightly slaps himself and mentally tells himself to get a grip, dude. It's just a handjob between bros. A totally chill and normal endeavor! He doesn't know why he's making such a big deal out of it (he's definitely done weirder things before) but something about the idea is making a weird nervous feeling creep through his system.

It's fine. It's literally not a big deal. I'm sure the guys wouldn't even mind getting jerked off, he tells himself as he continues looking around (definitely not stalling) from the corner he's found himself nestled in. Ultimately, he decides that in order to have the least awkward situation possible he should try to find someone he's friends with rather than a random stranger. He goes through his list of friends he's comfortable with.

Chan? No. God, no. Jisung cringes immediately after thinking it. Chan's like a friend, brother, and parental figure all in one to Jisung. Even if he might agree to help, Jisung does not even want to entertain the thought any longer. He shudders.

Changbin? Uh… maybe? He was there at the truth or dare game so he already knows the situation. But he was also giving Hyunjin googly eyes the entire time so maybe not. Blegh.

Minho? Jisung thinks this is probably his best bet. Worst case, his hyung will laugh at his situation and turn him down kindly. But he trusts Minho to not let it become awkward between them either way.

Still, he should probably think through his other options. Obviously not Hyunjin… Jeongin? Even though he knows he's not, Jisung still sees him as a pure, innocent kid, he can't help it. Something about it just inherently feels wrong, he's like his little brother. Absolutely not.

So then, Seungmin? Honestly Jisung isn't totally averse to the idea… but Seungmin is his roommate and he would never be able to escape if things become awkward. So, no.

He doesn't know how long he's been standing there, probably looking pretty creepy he suddenly realizes, when a hand snaps in front of his face.

He blinks. When he looks up he sees a mildly annoyed Seungmin staring at him. Speak of the fucking devil.

"That was my drink, you know."

Oh. Jisung looks down at the drink he's holding—huh, when did he grab that?—and looks back up at Seungmin with an apologetic expression.

"I was wondering where this came from, sorry Min."

Seungmin waves it off. "That's so like you to just pick up any drink. You're lucky it was mine and not, like, some random person's." He pauses. "Or drugged."

Jisung laughs nervously. "Yeah uh, you're right, I'll be more careful." He straightens up. "Thank you for sacrificing your drink for the greater good," he says solemnly with a bow.

Seungmin rolls his eyes. "Yeah sure, anytime." He pauses. "Are.. you alright though? You've been standing here spaced out for a while but you usually love to go around annoying everyone. I would know, unfortunately." Another small roll of his eyes, then tilting his head to the side, he offers a light smile. "If you want we can go home and just watch Netflix or something?"

Of course Seungmin can tell something's up. Jisung isn't always the most comfortable in larger social gatherings with people outside his immediate friend circle. He much prefers to stay in his room and binge watch YouTube videos until he passes out, something his roommate is well aware of. Jisung appreciates the concern even if that isn't the current cause of his worries.

Still, he doesn't really want to bother Seungmin with his current predicament. "Aww, is my little Minnie worried about me~? I knew you cared about meee!" Jisung drawls, draping himself slightly over the taller boy in a messy embrace. 

"Shut up, oh my god you're so annoying." Seungmin pushes him away but Jisung doesn't miss the slight pull at the corners of his mouth. "Anyway, I was serious. I was gonna go bother Old Man Chan but if you wanna leave that's cool too. You seemed really out of it earlier. Just staring at this thing like it would give you life's secrets." He grabs the can from Jisung's hand and grimaces after taking a sip, muttering something about alcohol ruining the perfectly good taste of lemonade before handing it back to Jisung.

While the offer to just bail on the party and his dare is tempting, Jisung doesn't want to give up like that. His pride and dignity are on the line here. "Oh uh, I mean, it's nothing really. Just another one of Hyunjin's weird dares, I can handle it. But thanks Seungie."

He tries to give a reassuring smile but it must have come off a bit nervous anyway because Seungmin gives him a cut-the-crap look. "Okaay, but still, you never get this worked up over his dares. What did he say to do this time? I'm sure it can't be worse than that time you licked—"

Jisung's eyes widen and he immediately slaps a hand over the taller boy's mouth. "Oh my god Seungmin, we don't talk about that. That was quite possibly the worst thing I've ever done." He groans at the memory.

Seungmin laughs and pushes his hand away. "Yeah that was pretty bad. So? It can't be as bad as that right?"

Jisung bites his lip, damn it, he was hoping Seungmin would drop it. He doesn't even know why he's getting so in his head about the dare, he's sure Minho or one of the others will be fine with it once he explains the situation. What's a brojob between bros, right? Right?

Shit, Seungmin is still waiting for an answer. Should he just tell him? He's comfortable enough with him that it wouldn't be that weird. But.. he just can't bring himself to. "Hmm… I don't know. I mean it's a little weird but at least I won't have to do this one in front of other people. No public embarrassment this time if that's what you were hoping for," he says around a grin that thankfully comes naturally.

Seungmin frowns and opens his mouth to say something when he's waved over by a smiling Jeongin. He smiles back, then turns back to Jisung, who doesn't fail to notice the light dusting of pink on his cheeks. Oh? He's definitely gonna tease Seungmin for that later. "Alright, well if you're sure you're okay I'll leave you to it but you're telling me all about this later. And if it's really that bad then don't do it, okay? Hyunjin wouldn't force you to do anything if you really don't want to." 

“I know… thanks,” Jising smiles genuinely. “Uh—completely unrelated—have you seen Minho hyung anywhere?”

Seungmin raises an eyebrow but shakes his head. “I heard from Chan that he left already. Something about his cats he said. Why?”

Jisung's heart sinks. There goes his only real hope. “No reason…” he shakes his head and puts on a smile again. “Um, I think your boyfriend's waiting.” He points to Jeongin with a small smirk.

Seungmin's ears turn scarlet as he sees who Jisung is pointing to. His head snaps back wildly. “My what— we're not—”

Jisung puts his hands up in surrender. “Okay, my bad, my bad… I didn't say anything.”

Seungmin narrows his eyes. “No, you didn't. Bye!” And he runs off in Jeongin's direction, leaving Jisung alone with his—well really Seungmin's—drink.

Jisung leans back into his corner, thoughts going rampant. Minho, his only saving grace, already left. What does he do now!? Obviously he knows Hyunjin would never force him into doing the dare if he's really uncomfortable, but that doesn't mean Jisung wouldn't be embarrassed for not being able to! And it's not that he doesn't want to, he's just… worried. Worried that it'll be too weird and awkward and Jisung really doesn't want to mess up any of his friendships. Not to mention his… limited experience. Sure, he has some experience with girls but with a guy? Obviously not. What if he's like, really, really bad??

Whatever! If Jisung is anything, he's not a coward. In a sudden rush of adrenaline, he tips his head back, downs the rest of Seungmin's drink, and seeing as all his friends are out of the question, he decides to walk over to the first male specimen he lays his eyes on. What could go wrong?

Oh. Of course everything could go wrong. He realizes his grave mistake when he notices the unmistakable head of blond hair in his vision. Felix. Pretty boy and literal innocent ball of sunshine.

Felix had recently transferred from Australia, and while he was super friendly whenever they talked, they weren't incredibly close. Not that Jisung doesn't want to be, it just takes him a while to warm up to new people. And they only share one class together. Still, they do talk a lot in that class, and he probably hasn't gotten comfortable with someone that fast since Minho hyung, Jisung realizes with some surprise.

But that wasn't the issue. From what he could tell (from a few truth or dare rounds from previous parties), Felix became really shy whenever the topic was even slightly sexual. He definitely wouldn't want to go along with Jisung's dare, and would probably be uncomfortable even talking about it. The last thing Jisung wants is to make anyone uncomfortable, least of all Felix.

He moves to turn around but it seems the blond has already noticed him approaching by the way he breaks out into a smile and waves. Jisung silently curses his dumb impulsiveness as he continues making his way to the other boy. It's fine. He can just act normal, talk with Felix for a bit and then go find someone else.

But when he arrives and sees Felix up close, Jisung's mind goes blank. With truly striking timing, the single brain cell he'd been clinging to all night decides to abandon him and he just stares for a few seconds.

Finally, his brain decides to award him a single staggering thought: Oh, he looks really pretty. 

Felix looks back at him, bright smile still reaching his eyes, which are shimmery and lightly lined with eyeliner. And oh, Jisung is just standing here like an idiot, which he is, but god, he's really been acting more idiotic than usual.

"Uh, hey Felix!" he says and cracks a hesitant smile.

"Yo, my twin! What's up?"

Jisung laughs and immediately relaxes a little. They had found out that their birthdays are only one day apart during a lame icebreaker in class. "Just… wanted to say hi. How're you liking the party? It's only, what, your second or third one here? Chan's parties are always the best."

"It's cool! And yeah, Chris—I mean, Chan hyung's like totally awesome. At first I was intimidated by him but when I found out he's a fellow Aussie I almost cried on the spot. I definitely wouldn't have adjusted as well if not for him." Felix looks away and smiles to himself, to Jisung's relief. He was admittedly having a hard time maintaining eye contact with Felix's bright eyes constantly glittering up at him.

“I know what you mean. He's saved my life more than once.” Jisung chuckles. Then he figures he should escape before he inevitably makes a fool of himself. “Uhh, anyway I just wanted to check in and say hi but I guess I'll get going…”

“So soon? I was thinking of checking in with you actually.”

Jisung blinks. “You… sorry?”

“You've just been standing over there for the past twenty minutes or so", Felix points to the corner Jisung was lurking in earlier. "Even I know that's kinda uncharacteristic of you. I was getting worried. And then you just came speeding towards me like a man on a mission."

“You were watching me that whole time!?” Jisung all but shrieks.

“Ah, um…” Felix rubs his neck. “Not the whole time but… yeah.” He shrugs, “Sorry, is that weird? I was just worried about you.”

Jisung feels his heart swell from the kindness of this boy he's not even incredibly close with. He should make an effort to talk to him more often outside of class. “No it's… it's nothing. We were playing truth or dare and Hyunjin gave me a pretty strange dare so I've just been, y'know, thinking about how to get out of it I guess." He laughs and shrugs.

Felix hums. "Is it as bad as when Hyunjin made you lick the—"

Jisung's mouth drops open and he instinctively covers Felix's mouth with his hand. "Oh my god, Felix! How do you even know about that!?"

Felix shrugs. "Your friends seem to love telling embarrassing stories about you." Jisung feels him laugh under his hand, and his face warms when he realizes where that hand still is. He quickly pulls it back and instead uses it to bury his head in, partly to hide the red on his face and partly because he, quite simply, would like the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

The universe wouldn't be so kind as to grant him that though. Jisung would have gladly spent the next thirty minutes reliving embarrassing moments in his life (unfortunately there is no shortage of these) and wanting to die but the sound of Felix giggling tempts him to peek between his fingers.

"Don't worry, they haven't told me much else," Felix says, the teasing smile remaining on his face. "But I do know about when you publicly asked Ryujin out only for her to tell you she's a lesbian—"

"Whoa, hey!" Jisung retorts, his hands now up in the air. "Yeah, that was embarrassing but it wasn't that bad! How was I supposed to know she's not into guys? Well, okay, maybe it's pretty obvious and I'm just a dumbass but still!" Jisung pouts. "Can we not talk about my failed attempts at romance anymore?"

Felix laughs. "Sure, you never told me what crazy dare you got from Hyunjin this time,” he tilts his head curiously.

Damn, Jisung almost forgot about why he's in this situation in the first place: that stupid dare that's making his mind run in circles. “Haha, well, it’s… it's nothing.” He says oh-so eloquently.

Felix pouts. “I'm so curious now. Can’t you tell me, please?”

Jisung's heart stutters a bit at the way the other's lip juts out. Cute. “I-It's just…” he sighs. How is he supposed to say no to that face? “Um.. he dared me to… to give someone here a… a handjob…?” It comes out like a question for some reason.

Felix's eyes widen. “Oh.” He pauses and Jisung feels like he already messed things up. He's just about to change the subject when Felix speaks again. “Were you… gonna ask me..? Is that why you came up to me?” he asks hesitantly.

Jisung waves his hands around frantically. “No! No, I mean—” He cringes. “Kind of..? I kind of wasn't thinking and just went to the first person I saw, but when I recognized you I changed my mind, I swear!” 

For some reason, this only makes Felix look sad. “You didn't want to because it was me..?” he asks quietly.

“I-I mean—it's just, you're—...” 

“I'm what, Jisung..?” Felix looks hurt.

Jisung doesn't know what to do. He thought he was being considerate of Felix by not wanting to do this with him but Felix seems upset?? God, what did he do!? 

“N-No, it's not you, I mean, it's not that I don't like you! I just figured you'd be uncomfortable or something so…” 

“Oh.” Thankfully, Felix seems slightly placated. “W-Well, I'm not, so…”

Jisung blinks. “Um, you're not.. What do you mean…” he laughs nervously.

“I'm not uncomfortable. I'll let you… if you want… I don't, um, mind.”

Jisungs mouth falls open and he gapes at Felix. Surely, he misheard. “A-Are you serious?”

“Mhm…” Felix nods, his face pink.

“Um.” Jisung blinks rapidly as his brain practically short circuits at what Felix is saying. He's okay with it?! Jisung swears he must be losing his mind. This is a dream, right? There's no way he would actually agree to this. His brain suddenly conjures up images of what it would be like to touch Felix in that way. Oh my god. 

Unsure if Felix notices Jisung's brain melting out of his skull, he's snapped back to reality when he hears Felix hesitantly ask, “Do you not want to..?”

“No! I mean, yes? I mean, it's just a little weird, you know? But you'd be doing me a favor I guess, so… yeah. Um, if you're sure you're okay with it?” Jisung swallows.

Felix's lips turn up slightly and he nods, effectively quelling the anxiety that had been bubbling up in Jisung's stomach. And, wow, he must be more tipsy than he thought because suddenly he thinks Felix looks even more beautiful than before.

Jisung's heart stutters inexplicably again. He nods. “Okay, let's um, go somewhere?” He grabs Felix's hand.

—

The two of them find an empty bedroom and Jisung locks the door behind them as they walk in.

Jisung shuffles onto the bed somewhat awkwardly, Felix joining him slowly. They sit like that for a few seconds and Jisung notices Felix fidgeting with his hands slightly.

Jisung decides to break the silence. "Um." Felix lifts his head. "You know you don't have to do this right? Like, really, really don't have to," he laughs nervously.

Felix nods, "Yeah I... I know, thanks." He gives a soft smile. "I guess I'm just a little nervous? I don't know." 

Jisung bites his lip. "Have you ever..?" 

Felix looks back down at his hands. “Um… a few times back in Australia but, like, not that far."

“Oh okay. You always seem so shy about the topic so I thought..”

Felix blushes slightly. “I went to a catholic school, so I'm just.. not used to talking about it so openly I guess,” he shrugs.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I've never done this before,” Jisung admits. Felix looks up in what looks like shock. "I mean—! I mean, never with a guy. I'm uh, y'know, I'm straight."

Felix blinks for a second. He nods slowly.

"Anyway! It's not a big deal right? Are—are you sure you're still okay with this?"

“Um.. if you are.”

“Yeah, well, I'm not really the one with a choice here..” Jisung laughs. 

Felix frowns. “Of course you have a choice. Why would your friend dare you to do this anyway if you're straight?? That's kinda weird.”

“Is it..? I feel like it's… I mean, it's not really a big deal. Just a brojob between bros. It doesn't have to be weird, right?”

“A bro—...” Felix coughs out a laugh. “R-Right. If you're sure.”

Jisung nods. “Yeah. Are you?”

Felix nods as well.

"Okay, should I just, um," Jisung shifts so he's closer to Felix and reaches for the other's thigh. He's kind of at an odd angle though, so, without thinking much about it, he swings a leg over Felix so he's sitting in the other's lap.

Felix just stares up at him with wide eyes. Shit, did he make things too weird? "Uh.. is this okay?" 

Felix blinks and clears his throat. "Yeah. You can, um, start. I'll tell you if I want you to stop," he says quietly.

"Okay," Jisung whispers, afraid to break whatever strange atmosphere has settled around the two of them.

He tried to sound confident earlier but god, he doesn't know what the hell he's doing. Unable to bear looking into Felix's eyes any longer, Jisung looks down and slowly, hesitantly slides his hand up Felix's leg and presses against the front of his jeans.

Felix lets out a huff of air so Jisung does it again, working over Felix's jeans until he's breathing heavily and Jisung can feel a more prominent bulge under his fingers.

"Um should—can I take these off?"

Felix lets out a shaky breath. "Yeah."

Jisung undoes the button and pulls down the zipper almost painstakingly slowly. He can feel the younger's eyes on him but he refuses to meet them. Once it's fully unzipped, Felix shifts and lifts his hips up so Jisung can pull his pants and boxers down.

And oh my god. Jisung didn't think that he would literally ever think this about another guy's dick but it looks almost... pretty? He just stares for a few moments, unsure of how to proceed when his head feels fuzzy with radio static.

Felix shifts nervously under Jisung's gaze. "Jisung..." It's almost a whine and fuck, since when did Felix sound that pretty? He swears his name has never sounded prettier on someone else's lips.

But shit, right, Felix is right in front of him, Jisung is basically on top of him, and he's waiting for Jisung to touch him.

So he does.

As soon as he wraps his fingers around Felix and starts to move, the younger shudders and sighs quietly. Having literally no other experience, Jisung just tries to do what does on himself. He slides his hand up and down slowly, and when he swipes his thumb over the tip, Felix lets out a little moan that prompts Jisung to look at his face for the first time since they started. And oh.

Felix's eyes have fluttered shut and his eyebrows are slightly furrowed. He's flushed, mouth hanging slightly open as he draws in shallow breaths. Jisung doesn't know what to do besides stare and keep moving his hand as he tries to commit the image in front of him to memory.

Felix bites his lip and grips the sheets when Jisung goes over the head again and holy shit, he's leaking so much. Jisung doesn't really know what he's doing but he supposes he's doing it right by the way Felix is breathing heavily through his nose, lips pressed shut. Jisung wishes he wouldn't try to be quiet.

"Felix." He looks up, and fuck, Jisung didn't think this through because now Felix is looking at him, eyes dark and heavy, and Jisung hears static again.

"Yeah? Ahh—" He moans before pressing his lips and eyes shut again.

Fuck.

"Don't—don't cover your noises."

Felix looks at him with an unreadable expression that makes him think he overstepped for a second, but then he slowly nods and complies, letting out more and more of those pretty little sounds that are making Jisung lose his mind.

On one particular stroke Felix tips his head back and cries, "Fuck, Jisung, please.."

Jisung seriously thinks he might pass out. "You're so pretty."

Felix shivers and whimpers, eyes shut tightly and Jisung literally has no clue what possessed him to say that but after seeing Felix's reaction he sure isn't planning on stopping any time soon.

"So pretty." A little noise from the back of Felix's throat. He feels like he's under a spell, words just falling out of his mouth. "S-So beautiful like this, making the prettiest sounds. Baby..."

Felix gasps into Jisung's chest, cock twitching as he lets out an embarrassed keening noise. One of his hands comes up to grasp Jisung's arm for leverage. 

Until now, the hand not on Felix's cock has been just sitting on the bed, so Jisung tentatively brings it to Felix's waist. And holy fuck his waist is so small but at the same time Jisung could feel well defined abs through his shirt and how is Felix even real?

He hesitantly slips his hand under the hem of Felix's shirt, who gasps at the sudden skin contact.

"Is this okay?"

Felix nods and Jisung feels his breath catch when a small hand covers his own, guiding it further along his torso in a silent plea to keep going.

He continues to explore the expanse of Felix's body in awe as the younger drops his hand to grip at Jisung's thigh instead. He's panting heavily and letting soft moans and whimpers slip past his lips with every drag of Jisung's hands along his cock or abdomen. 

Jisung trails the hand on Felix's chest higher until he slowly, experimentally brushes over his nipple. Felix arches his back into Jisung's hand and his head tips back as he moans so fucking low in his throat it really shouldn't be possible. 

Jisung watches Felix shake under him as he rubs his thumb in circles over the nub before moving to the other one. He starts letting out desperate little whines, the stark contrast from his low moans leaving Jisung's head reeling.

"Fuck, fuck, I can't—m'gonna—" 

Jisung takes it as a sign to redouble his efforts, stroking faster until Felix is gasping, "please please, Jisung, please," and it's all Jisung can do to stare dumbly as he moans and cums in streaks of white that slide down Jisung's hand. He works him through it, pulling his hands away once the younger's breathing has calmed down a bit.

For several seconds, they just sit there, sharing heavy breaths. Unable to meet the other's eyes, Jisung stares at his hand, covered in Felix's release. He almost wants to lick it which—okay, what the fuck. He isn't going to think about where that thought came from right now.

He takes a deep breath and grabs a tissue from the nightstand.

Felix does the same. Jisung finishes wiping his hand and looks up to see that Felix is also cleaned up, and after pulling his pants back up he hides his face in his hands. 

Jisung's heart sinks. He ruined everything didn't he? "Um.. are you okay? I'm so sorry if I made you uncomfortable—"

Felix's head lifts up, eyes wide. "No! No, I mean, wouldn't it have been more uncomfortable for you? I'm just embarrassed," he says, cheeks red and looking to the side.

"Huh?? Why are you embarrassed?" Jisung says incredulously. If anyone should be embarrassed, it's Jisung for getting so wrapped up in the dare. Saying all those things to Felix, telling him to not be quiet, calling him baby?? He feels like he's on fire from embarrassment, hot and flushed all over.

"What do you mean? You're not the one who was just begging like a little bitch. Fuck, I'm so sorry." He drops his head back into his hands.

Jisung taps his chin thoughtfully. "You have a praise kink," he says observantly.

Felix flushes and gasps. "I do not! " He lunges forward and Jisung's not entirely sure what happened but suddenly he's on his back and Felix is on top of him and it feels good and he moans when the other boy presses into him, what the fuck?

What the fuck.

Felix stares down at him with wide eyes and Jisung's positive he's bright red right now. What the fuck, he's hard? Just from touching Felix? This was absolutely not part of the plan. What the fuck. He closes his eyes and desperately wishes for the soft bed covers to consume him so he would never have to face Felix or anyone ever again.

Alas, he hesitantly opens his eyes and Felix is still hovering on top of him. Why, why, why hasn't he moved yet? Jisung can't even try to run away. There's truly no escape, he'll just have to face this hell that he created for himself.

Right when he opens his mouth to sputter out an apology or something, he isn't really sure, Felix moves against him again and it just feels so good and Jisung fucking moans again.

Felix inhales sharply. "Sorry, oh my god I shouldn't have— Are you—? Fuck— Do you want me to like… Like I wouldn't mind if— Since y'know... But should I stop?" he stutters.

Jisung doesn't know what stupid sex hormones he's drunk on, or maybe he's still feeling tipsy from the lemonade earlier because he's struck with the vague and inexplicable urge to kiss the boy on top of him.

Or maybe that's just the effect Felix has on him.

"Kiss me..?" He mumbles and subsequently watches Felix's eyes widen along with his own. He slaps his hand over his mouth in horror.

"No wait, fuck, I didn't mean to say that, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so stupid—"

Now Felix's hand is the one to cover Jisung's stupid mouth and he squeezes his eyes shut both in embarrassment and a weird surge of arousal at the feeling of having his mouth covered which he is not going to think about right now.

"I.. can do that… if you really want me to?" Felix says while looking back and forth between Jisung's eyes, like he's searching for something.

Jisung's brain short circuits and he barely registers nodding or saying yes but he must have because it's all too fast how Felix is leaning down and their faces are inches apart and all Jisung can think about is how soft and pretty the other boy's lips look and is it normal to be thinking that—?

Felix kisses him sweetly, almost a little too sweetly considering the situation, and Jisung parts his lips instinctively. The kiss deepens quickly and Jisung gasps against the other's mouth when his thigh presses against the front of Jisung's pants.

"Is this okay still?" Felix asks gently. He looks so fucking ethereal above him like this it makes Jisung want to cry.

He nods. "Please don't stop."

Felix inhales shakily and nods before leaning back down, this time his lips attaching to Jisung's neck as his leg presses back against him.

Jisung can't help the noise that escapes him, he feels floaty already with just being touched through his clothes like this. 

“You can.. pretend I'm a girl or something,” Felix whispers as his mouth travels down his neck. Right. Right, that's probably why Jisung is feeling this way. Felix is so pretty, almost like a girl and he must be getting confused, it's only natural, right? But for some reason Jisung really really doesn't want to imagine Felix as a girl. 

“I-Is that what you did with me?” Jisung asks through a gasp as Felix bites his neck.

“Um, well, I'm bi so..” he looks up bashfully.

“Oh. Right, okay.” So Jisung's the only one who's weird here for enjoying this. Cool. He's not left much time to dwell on it because Felix's hand starts snaking down to press over Jisung's clothed dick, which at this point is embarrassingly hard and straining against his pants.

Felix toys with the button and raises his head, meeting Jisung's eyes to ask for permission. Jisung gives a little nod, nervousness and excitement bubbling together as Felix undoes the button and zipper and finally, finally, touches him for real.

Jisung hadn't realized he'd been waiting for so long.

His head falls back when Felix touches him and he's barely even doing anything yet but it feels unreal. He has the fleeting thought that maybe this is exiting platonic brojob territory and becoming something he's entirely unequipped to deal with. Maybe even since the kiss, or when he called Felix pretty, but he doesn't have the mental capacity to think too hard about it right now or even care. All his thoughts fly out the window when Felix's mouth finds his own again.

"Need you to stay quiet for me, I think I hear people outside," Felix murmurs against his lips, his voice impossibly low. Jisung hadn't even noticed he was making sounds.

"Don't want anyone else hearing you like this," Felix continues, muffling Jisung's moans with his mouth as he keeps moving his hand up and down his length slowly. Where the hell did he learn to talk like that?! The increasingly deep timbre of his voice was not doing Jisung's sanity any favors.

Felix must deem the hallway clear now because he removes his mouth from Jisung's, and Jisung is back to moaning abashedly. 

“D-Does it feel good?” Felix asks, as if he's unsure of himself. Jisung squeezes his eyes shut. Is it not obvious from the way he's reacting?

“I just—wanna make sure I'm doing okay.”

“It feels—oh god—really good.”

Felix grins shyly. “Yeah?”

Jisung brings a hand up to cover his mouth and nods. He can feel himself getting close embarrassingly fast. He starts to whine and his hips stutter a bit into Felix's hand. “Please..”

Felix leans down and presses his lips to Jisung's throat again. He bites down, not enough to leave a mark but it feels dizzyingly good nonetheless. Jisung's never had someone overpower him like this before. He feels completely at Felix's mercy. It makes him shiver.

“Jisungie, you're so…” Felix murmurs into his skin, lips trailing along his collarbone.

Jisungie. His heart wobbles at the nickname and he can't help but whine. Felix is driving him insane. “Felix I think I'm—aahh, Felix, Lix..”

He pulls away from Jisung's neck with a smack. “Yeah, Sungie?”

“C-Can you—..” he looks at Felix's lips pleadingly.

Felix immediately presses his lips to his in a passionate kiss. Jisung moans into it and before he can properly warn Felix or anything, he's cumming with a high pitched keen. If he were more aware of himself he'd be embarrassed by the noise but as it is he can't even feel his legs properly. He shakes as Felix brings him down from his high. Then they just stay there, breathing heavily against each other's mouths.

Felix moves first, taking a deep breath before leaning up and away from Jisung. He peers down at him with bated breath. Jisung just lays there, hair fanning out around him. He feels sluggish, entirely spent and he stares back at Felix like a real angel descended from heaven. He seriously wouldn't be surprised if he actually were.

His trance is broken by Felix's voice, “Are you okay?”

Jisung blinks as he registers the words. He nods and slowly sits up. Felix offers him a small smile.

Once they've cleaned up, the euphoric feeling in Jisung's gut starts slowly transforming into a deep rooted anxiety that crawls its way up his spine. Fuck. What did they just do? What the fuck is happening to him? He feels himself shrinking away from the other boy instinctually, but he catches himself and clears his throat, attempting to straighten up.

“Um.. are we bros now?” He tries to joke, but his laugh sounds forced even to him.

Felix's lip quirks up for a second but he looks at him carefully. “Is that what you want? To be bros?”

Jisung opens his mouth to say something like of course bro or yeah what else? But his throat closes up. A sudden, inexplicable feeling of fear creeps into his gut.

“Jisung?”

He feels like he's suffocating, almost choking on air as he tries to get words out. “I— I don't know what... what I want. I'm so confused right now, I…”

“Hey, it's okay—”

“N-No! No, it's not. I'm sorry, I can't—” He shakes his head and leans away from Felix. He can't shake the sinking feeling that something is very, very wrong with him. How could he let this whole thing happen? Why is he feeling like this? He feels like a fraud of himself. He doesn't know what to do, he can't even process his feelings. He just knows he needs to get away from here, now.

He stands up quickly. Felix reaches for him but he's already crossing the room in long strides. As he twists the doorknob, he glances back to see Felix sitting with a hurt and confused expression before he shuts the door behind him.

Fuck. Jisung still can't breathe. He feels like it's only getting worse now that he's out in the open where people could see him. At least the hallway is currently empty, and he stumbles down it, not sure where he's going but just needing to get away. 

He staggers into an empty room. At least, he thought it was empty, but as he crosses the doorway he's met with a pair of familiar eyes on a head of long blond hair.

“Hyunjin,” he says wobbly.

Hyunjin's eyes go wide when he sees the shaky state Jisung is in. “Jisung? What's wrong?”

That's when Jisung breaks down. Tears start streaming down his cheeks in rivulets. “I h-hate you! Why'd you make me do that??”

“Whoa, hey…” Hyunjin reaches for him and pulls Jisung to sit beside him. “I'm so sorry, Sung… Please calm down and tell me what's going on?”

“The dare, you idiot. I did your stupid dare!”

Understanding and a flash of regret click in Hyunjin's eyes. “...Ah.”

“Everything was fine. Now everything is.. I don't even know.” Jisung cries, pressing his hands into his eyes.

Hyunjin rubs his back soothingly. “Okay, shh, let's calm down first… So you did the dare? Can I ask who you did it with?”

Jisung sniffs as he tries to calm his breathing. “It was F-Felix.”

“Fe-lix?” Hyunjin repeats. “The kid from Australia?” Jisung nods. “Oh, Jisung…”

“I-It's your fault! You dared me, and then you were all like ‘I'll know if you don't do it’. What the hell!”

“God, I'm sorry Jisung. I wasn't thinking… I was just being dramatic, I'm not omniscient. How would I know if you did it or not?”

“I don't know, you just…”

Hyunjin sighs. “Okay, let's relax. First, did he hurt you? I'll kick his beautiful, angelic ass if he did anything to you.”

Jisung cracks a smile in spite of himself and shakes his head.

Hyunjin's face softens. “Then what happened..?”

“I… I don't know, he made me so… confused..”

One of Hyunjin's eyebrows lifts. “...He made you confused,” he deadpans.

“Like… like…” Jisung grips his hair. “God! I don't even know! Am I normal? I don't feel normal. I think something's wrong with me. I.. I don't understand what's happening.”

Hyunjin wipes the tears on his cheeks. “Why do you think something’s wrong with you?” he asks gently.

“Th-there's— I— I think I liked it too much,” Jisung whispers.

“You liked what? …touching Felix?”

Jisung cringes. “Y-Yes, which is so weird already, but then he— you don't understand, he also— touched m-me, and I liked it, so much, like— which is so weird— it scares the shit out of me— I a-asked him to kiss me, like, like a psychopath or something, he probably thought I was so creepy b-but he was so nice and so pretty and… I don't know what to do… Hyunjin I feel like I'm— like this isn't normal.”

Hyunjin just presses his lips together and nods, encouraging Jisung to continue.

“Like… like… he's a guy. Like yeah, he's objectively pretty but he's… he said to pretend he was a girl but I didn't, I don't think I even wanted to, but, like, I'm—I'm straight, right? I mean… I mean, yeah, it's not like I suddenly— I like girls! I know I like girls so why… like I shouldn't enjoy t-touching another guy right? That's…” Jisung shakes his head with wide, teary eyes. “I'm not like, gay.”

Hyunjin winces but he looks at him with something akin to pity. “Ouch dude, you know I'm gay, right? You're not… broken or anything, I promise this is normal Jisung.”

Jisung sighs into his hands. “Fuck. I know. God, I-I’m sorry, I didn't mean it like that… I just mean like.. there's no way I'm… like shouldn't I have known by now? I'm not, like a teenager anymore. I just.. I like… girls… it doesn't make sense, why is this happening now?” 

“It's okay, you can still like girls, you can like both. Even if you don't, that's still okay. Okay? It's not… there's not a predefined time when you realize this stuff. Some people live their whole lives in denial. This is normal. You're normal.”

Jisung nods. “R-Right, of course I can still like girls. So, maybe I'm like… bisexual or something? But honestly I've never—” He presses his fingers against his eyelids. “I mean, I don't think— but maybe? N-No I've never... But it's not like I see Felix as a girl, I mean, I touched his dick a-and he— his voice is like… crazy, I don't even know— B-But I've definitely never liked boys before so how would I suddenly—?”

Hyunjin rubs his shoulders. “It's okay. You don't have to figure it all out right now. Take your time. I'm here for you, okay?”

“I'm scared, Hyunjin,” he whispers.

Hyunjin's face breaks and he sighs. “I know. I'm sorry. I think I gave you that dare so you'd have an awakening or something but that was stupid. I didn't think… I hate seeing you like this.”

“Wha—... huh?? So you knew I'm maybe not super straight even before this?!”

Hyunjin bites his lip. “I didn't really know. I just had a feeling. And honestly, I wasn't expecting you to actually do it.”

Jisung's jaw drops, momentarily forgetting his anxiety. “You weren't expecting me to— Hyunjin! How could you think so low of me!”

“Okay, sorry! I shouldn't have dared you to do that knowing you'd be crazy enough to actually do it.” Jisung hits his arm. “It was more just to get you thinking about it!”

“You're crazy.”

“I'm smart. My gaydar is never wrong,” he taps the side of his head. “And I clocked you the day we met but you said you were straight... I was probably too tipsy earlier and figured I'd test you a little. That's all. I'm really sorry. I feel terrible for causing you this much stress.”

Jisung sighs. “It's okay. I just can't believe— how did you know? None of this makes sense…”

Hyunjin shrugs. “Like I said… I'm smart.” Jisung hits him again. “Okay, okay! But maybe this is good? Learning things about yourself?”

Jisung swallows. “Right… learning things…” he sighs. “I just—I screwed it up with him didn't I? I ran away. I just left him there.”

“You didn't screw it up. You're literally having a full blown identity crisis! He'll understand if you explain it to him.”

“But, what if he doesn't want to listen, or he already hates me, or… you should've seen his face when I left, oh god, I'm a horrible person—”

“Shh. Jisung. Do you like him?”

Jisung's face burns. “T-That's— I don't—”

“I mean, do you care about him? As a friend?”

“Of course,” Jisung pouts.

“Then you should talk to him. I wouldn't be surprised if he's still here. Just explain what happened, that you're going through a lot but you don't hate him. Right?”

Jisung nods. “Right, I—You're right. I don't want him to think that I find him gross or something, oh my god.”

“He's probably just confused too. Don't worry. Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, I… I think I'm okay now. Thanks though.” He stands up and touches his face. “D-Do I look like I've been crying?”

Hyunjin smiles sympathetically. “A little, but he'll understand. Go before he leaves!”

Jisung nods and runs for the door. He pauses there and turns around.

“Hyunjin?”

“Hm?”

“I'm sorry for yelling at you.”

He waves him off. “It's okay, I kind of deserved it I think. We're good, okay? Now, go!”

Jisung doesn't need to be told twice. He's out the door in seconds and practically sprinting his way back to the room he left Felix in.

“...God, it's so hard being right all of the time,” Hyunjin sighs.

—

Felix isn't there.

The room is empty. Felix isn't here.

Oh god. What if he already left and he's avoiding him and Jisung will never be able to talk to him and Felix will think he hates him and—

He takes a deep breath. He shouldn't jump to conclusions. He has Felix's number, he should just text him. He pulls out his phone.

He paces around the room as he waits for his phone to light up. After a few minutes of nothing he sends a couple more messages and sighs. Maybe Felix is still at the party somewhere? Should he look for him?

Yeah, he decides, he needs to talk to Felix and make sure he's okay. Make sure they're okay. He can't stand the thought that Felix might think he hates him. It couldn't be farther from the truth.

Jisung paces out of the room and begins scouring every room for the familiar head of blond hair. But he's nowhere to be seen. Jisung tries not to cry. He's just about to loop around to where he started when he's stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He jumps. Felix?

“Jisung? Are you okay?” No, of course it's not. Jisung turns to face the familiar voice. 

“Seungmin,” he breathes shakily.

Seungmin gently places both hands on Jisung's shoulders. “What happened? You look frantic. What's going on?”

That's it. Jisung breaks down in tears. Again. He hates crying in front of another one of his friends but he can't help himself right now.

Seungmin looks alarmed. “Did someone do something? Are you hurt?” Jisung shakes his head. Seungmin sighs in relief. Then, his eyebrows draw together. “Wait, does this have to do with that dare?” 

Jisung hesitates, before nodding. 

Seungmin exhales. “Okay, we're leaving, okay? You can tell me about it on the way home if you want. Or not, but I don't think this place is very conducive to your wellbeing right now.”

Jisung nods and lets Seungmin guide him through the halls and crowds until they're outside. And he's right. As soon as he steps out of the claustrophobic walls he feels like he can breathe easier again. He sighs and wipes the last of the tears off his face.

Seungmin lets go of his hand. “You feeling better?” he asks.

“Yeah. Thanks, I.. guess I needed to get out of there.”

Oh, right. He should text Felix and let him know he's leaving, just in case he really is still at the party somewhere. He pulls out his phone. Seungmin looks at him, a question clearly painted on his face, but he stays quiet.

Jisung sighs after hitting send and stuffs his phone in his pocket again. Seungmin looks at him searchingly. “What happened…?”

Jisung bites his lip. His immediate instinct is deflect, deflect, deflect, but he really should tell Seungmin. He deserves to know. Jisung explains the whole situation on the way back to their dorm, from the dare to his conversation with Felix, to his panic in the aftermath and talk with Hyunjin. Seungmin listens quietly, intently. Jisung leaves out the details of what actually happened with Felix, but it's hopefully enough for Seungmin to get the picture.

When Jisung finally finishes, Seungmin blows out a long puff of air, his cheeks puffing up. “Wow. I don't even… Damn. That's crazy.”

Jisung leans his head back and groans with his hands over his face. “I know. What do I even do now?”

“Flee the country.” Seungmin says matter of factly. Jisung huffs out a laugh. “Sorry. I'm shit at giving advice. But I know Felix. He doesn't seem like the type of person who wouldn't at least hear you out, you know? Don't stress too much.”

“Then why is he ignoring me??” Jisung frowns.

“There's so many possibilities, dude. He might be feeling equally as overwhelmed right now or his phone could be dead or he might just not have checked yet. It hasn't even been that long. Give him time.” Seungmin, ever the voice of reason.

“Yeah… yeah, you're right. I'm just—I don't know. I don't even know.”

“I'm always right.” Seungmin, ever the voice of arrogance. “It'll be fine, Jisung.”

“Okay… Just know, if you're wrong I will come crying to you.”

Seungmin's lips curl up. “I'm always right. But okay, sure.” He pauses. “Honestly, I'm surprised you even did the dare, I even gave you an easy escape and everything.”

Jisung lets out a loud sigh. “I don't even know, man. Maybe a part of me, like, wanted to… I'm so confused about everything to be honest.”

Seungmin hums. “This is kind of life altering shit you're going through. You're handling it pretty well, all things considered.”

Jisung's looks at him, lips forming an ‘o’. “You think?”

He nods, “I think I'd have broken down or something by now if it were me.”

“I'm—well, I'm trying not to. I guess I went through most of the whole breakdown freakout thing with Hyunjin. I'm just trying not to think about it too hard right now I guess.”

“That's fair. Don't rush it. Uh, and I'm here if you ever wanna... talk or whatever,” Seungmin waves his hand around.

Jisung smiles. “Thanks, Min. Seriously.”

“Yeah, yeah…” he says but he mirrors his smile.

—

The next morning, Jisung wakes up feeling more refreshed than he expected. He doesn't feel great, but at least he doesn't feel like his whole life and everything he thought he knew about himself is turning upside down like yesterday. That's something.

As much as he was glued to his phone last night, waiting for a message from Felix, he doesn't want to check his phone right now, scared of what he might (or might not) see. Everything feels more real now, outside of the illusionary haze of last night, and he's just not ready to face anything yet.

Instead, he busies himself with mindless tasks, like brushing his teeth and pouring a bowl of his favorite hangover cereal. He's not even hungover, he didn't drink that much, but he just needs that extra emotional support right now. It helps, he thinks.

Eventually, he has to face reality. His phone looms at him from his bedside table, facedown but glaring at him. Jisung sighs and reluctantly picks it up. 

He cringes a little when he sees the multiple notifications from his messenger app. There's a text from Seungmin saying he's out studying with a friend but to let him know if he needs anything. Studying the morning after a party? Nerd. But Jisung smiles at the kind gesture and types out a quick reply saying thanks but he'll be fine.

And.. there's a little number by Felix's contact name too. He doesn't even want to open it. He wants to crawl back into bed and hide for the rest of the day. He wishes this had all happened yesterday when he was still in the moment and running on adrenaline.

But this is a good thing! Felix isn't ignoring him. This is good. Jisung takes a deep breath and clicks into the message.

He breathes out slowly. Okay.. Felix doesn't seem angry? He wants to meet up at least. Or what if he's just waiting until they're in person to unleash everything and tell Jisung to never talk to him again? God, he can't tell.

He doesn't want to respond. Okay, no, he needs to respond. He's the one who texted first anyway. Fuck, this is scary though.

He takes another deep breath to steady himself before carefully typing out a reply.

Jisung's heart races when Felix's reply comes in within only a couple minutes. Thank god Felix doesn't seem creeped out at coming over. Jisung quickly agrees to the time and texts Felix his dorm and room number.

Then he waits. After sufficiently freaking out for an hour, stress cleaning and everything, Jisung hears a knock at the front door. Oh fuck. He's so not ready.

Regardless, he trudges over to the door. He takes a deep breath before unlocking and opening the door. 

Felix is standing there, bundled up for the chilly weather in a jacket but also sporting a pair of loose ripped jeans, which Jisung thinks is pretty contradictory. How are you gonna put so many layers on and then just have holes in your pants? How does that make sense? One hole above the knee is large enough that Jisung can literally see the outline of Felix's thigh. 

“Um… hi…” Jisung's eyes snap up. Wait, what was he even doing just now? He wasn't like… checking Felix out or something, right? No, that's absurd. Felix's torn up pants are absurd, and that's all he was thinking. About his pants. His jeans. 

“Hi,” Jisung replies awkwardly. Why is this so awkward? They haven't even said anything yet. God. “Sorry, um, come in?” He gestures and holds the door open.

Felix murmurs a soft “thanks” as he cautiously steps inside and looks around a bit.

“Um, thanks for coming…” Jisung starts. “Seungmin— my roommate isn't here right now. But we can go to my room if you want?”

Felix's eyes suddenly light up. “Seungmin? Kim Seungmin? Tall, funny, braces?”

Jisung blinks. “Yeah, what? You know him? Wait, you think he's funny?” He wrinkles his nose.

“Yeah! Well, maybe at my own expense… We're partners in this cooking class I'm taking.”

Jisung starts walking and leads Felix in the direction of his room as his eyebrows furrow. “A cooking—? No way. Seungmin can't cook.” 

Felix giggles. “Oh, I know. I swear it's actually contagious or something because suddenly I start forgetting basic things like how to use a mixer just by being near him. I think it's a curse.”

Jisung laughs, eternally grateful for the lighthearted shift in the atmosphere, the tense and awkward air dissipating. Talking with Felix is just like that, so easy. “Yeah, I keep him out of our kitchen for his own good. I had no idea he was taking a cooking class though, what the hell?”

Felix hums. “Maybe he's trying to improve?”

“Or he's just trying to cause chaos. And from what you said, it seems like it's working.” Jisung shakes his head as they step into his room.

“Maybe…” Felix mumbles, but his focus has shifted elsewhere. He takes in Jisung's room, seeming to observe every visible corner: anime posters on the wall and an acoustic guitar in the corner and the stuffed animals on his bed. Jisung blushes, suddenly grateful for his stress-induced tidying of every nook and cranny. He hadn't realized how intimate it can be letting someone new into his space like this. This is Felix's first time in his room.

Felix. In his room. Why does it feel weird? 

It doesn't, does it? Jisung is the only one making it weird. It's not weird for friends to hang out in each other's rooms. That's literally extremely normal. But still… Jisung usually waits until he's way closer with people before letting them in his room. He can't place the anxious feeling swirling in his gut.

“I like your room,” Felix says softly. “It's like how I imagined.”

“W-What does that mean??”

“It's a compliment! It's very you.”

“Okay well… thanks,” Jisung mumbles. Has Felix really imagined his room before? How close are they that Felix knows enough about Jisung to think it's very him? He pushes the thoughts aside. 

“So…” He sighs. Here comes the awkward again. But he can't avoid this forever. “Can we talk?” 

Felix nods. “…‘Course,” he says, leaning against the bed slightly. Jisung motions for him to sit down on it and follows suit, since there isn't much else seating in his room. “If you want to!” he stutters out but Felix just smiles and sits down on the bed. On Jisung's bed. Okay, cool, this is fine.

They face each other. “So….” Jisung starts, looking down at his hands in his lap. “I just wanted to apologize. I mean, I feel like we were acting pretty normal just now, and I'm really grateful for that, but you still deserve like, I don't know, an explanation? Or something? So yeah.”

Felix nods silently.

Jisung takes that as his cue to continue. “Right, so, yesterday, it was a dare, right? That wasn't a lie. Me and Hyunjin actually like, talked about it afterwards and we're cool by the way. Just in case you thought—well, I don't know. I don't know what I'm saying. Um…” He takes a deep breath. “I mean, you were really nice about the whole thing and then I just left… kind of suddenly. That was really mean. I… I mean, you looked hurt too. Which, like, fair. That was a dick move. Um…”

Felix's voice is gentle, “Okay, hey, I get it, I'm not actually mad—”

Jisung finally looks up. “But you should be. Y-You're not mad? I would be mad. I mean, maybe not mad but confused? Frustrated? I— I kind of feel like it came across like I was… using you or something. I don't know. But that's not… Honestly I'm just really confused right now because—”

“Stop.”

Jisung blinks. “What?”

“Stop, I… I want to apologize too.”

“For what?!”

“For agreeing to it! I shouldn't have cus I…” He shakes his head. “And I kind of pushed you to tell me about the dare. You didn't seem comfortable. And I definitely should've stopped when you said you're straight... I-I was selfish.”

“Selfish?” Jisung repeats. “What?”

Felix sighs. “I agreed cus I was being selfish… Just, selfish reasons. I shouldn't have.”

“What does that even…? Dude, you're not selfish, if anyone is it's me for basically roping you into doing that for me and then leaving you high and dry like…”

Felix shakes his head. “That's not… you don't get it. I am selfish. Even being here right now… Selfish. Stupid.”

Jisung can't even begin to comprehend how that makes sense. “What…?”

“Jisung… Fuck, fine — I-I like you.”

“You like me?” Jisung mimics.

“…Yeah.”

Then it clicks. “Wait, oh. You like… like, like me?”

“...Well, that's good. I was worried it was super obvious for no reason.”

Jisungs mouth must be hanging open. “I... Are you serious?”

Felix laughs nervously. “Does it seem like I'm joking?”

“N-No but… I don't know. Oh my god. Shut up, I'm freaking out.”

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, I know you're straight—”

“That's the thing. I'm not— Just, just, wait a second, oh my god. Oh my god.”

“Jisung…” Felix bites his lip. “I'm sorry, we can just pretend I never said that and go back to normal, please, I promise.”

Jisung puts his hands over his face. “No, shut up… shut up, just wait a second, please. Please just wait.”

Jisung can't see him but Felix at least goes quiet and Jisung can think. He breathes for a few seconds. In and out. In and out.

“…I think I like you too. Like, like like you… so much. Like way more than just bros. But I don't know what that fucking means.”

Jisung's heart is beating out of his chest. He hears a catch of breath. Silence. Then a soft whispered, “What do you mean Jisung, are you sure?”

“Yes, I mean, no, but— I feel something, and this isn't normal, so—”

He feels gentle fingers pulling at his wrists. “Jisung, look at me.” He lets Felix pull his hands down off of his face, which he's sure must be burning red. “It's okay. I don't want you to like… pity me or something. I'm really okay even if you don't like me like that.”

Jisung shakes his head. “N-No, I'm not pitying you Felix, I swear. I really, really—” He swallows. “Even like, your hands just on my wrists right now, making me feel like— I- I don't know,” he breathes.

Felix immediately drops his wrists. “I'm sorry,” he says genuinely.

But that's not what Jisung wanted. “No! I liked it.” He reaches for Felix's hands and interlaces his fingers in his, immediately setting off butterflies in his stomach. “I like this..”

Felix swallows and squeezes his hand a little. “But anyone can like holding hands with anyone, that doesn't mean—”

“But it's not just that. We— Felix, we kissed. I… asked you to kiss me. Did you forget that? And we did… m-more obviously. I liked it.” The more Jisung tries to explain to Felix the more he feels like he's understanding and accepting his own feelings. “That's why I ran away. I was so… confused and.. and scared I guess, cus.. I've never felt… with a guy.”

“I didn't forget,” Felix whispers. “I believe you. I know it's scary. I-I went through it too. Just— Are you sure? I really… I don't wanna get my hopes up if…”

“Can I kiss you?” Jisung blurts out. “Then I'll be sure. I… You can definitely say no.”

Felix closes his eyes and looks to be in some kind of mental anguish for a few seconds. “Yes, okay…” he breathes.

Jisung squeezes the other's hand, still interlaced with his own. He leans in a little. “A-Are you sure?” he asks quietly.

“Yes, yes, please…” Felix says under his breath while leaning in a little as well. That's all Jisung needs before he's closing his eyes and swooping in to close the distance between them. 

It's like magic. Right at the moment their lips press Jisung has his answer. His stomach flips and it feels so different from last night where he was letting Felix have control. He keeps it going for a little longer, not really moving his lips but just pressing into the kiss for a few more seconds, relishing in the way it feels.

When he finally pulls away, Felix's eyes are closed, forehead drawn in as if he's the one going through a crisis right now. 

“Felix?”

“What? Please don't say you were wrong. I mean… I mean, of course that's fine but—”

“Felix. I liked it… Oh wait, so I actually like you? Oh my god—”

Felix's eyes fly open. “You really…? You're serious?”

Jisung nods, eyes equally as wide as his.

“Are you sure? Yesterday I can get over, but this feels too real. I don't think I can handle if— I mean, god, sorry, I know you're figuring things out but—”

“Yes. Well, I— I'm still confused about other things but… I'm pretty sure—I mean this feels pretty much exactly like when I have a crush on a girl. So..?” 

“Okay. Okay, sorry. It's not that I don't believe you, I just—I really wasn't prepared for this. But I get it, really.” He takes a deep breath in and out. “So you… you really like me? Really, really?”

Jisung nods shyly. “Um.. really, really. I think more than I realized.”

Felix blushes. “Right, so… I mean, I don't want to be too forward but..? And maybe you're not ready and that's totally okay. But do you wanna..? I mean if we both like each other then… doesn't it make sense if we…”

Jisung squeezes his hand encouragingly. “What are you trying to say?”

“I'm saying—and again, you can say no if this is too fast—but I'm saying… Do you want to… try being my boyfriend…?” He peeks up at Jisung nervously.

Jisung's heart stutters in his chest. He doesn't really have to think about his answer. Even if his brain is telling him it's a little scary, his heart is giving him an answer clear as day. “Yes, y-yes, I want that… to be your… boyfriend.”

Felix flashes a shy, relieved smile. “Yeah?”

“Y-Yeah. Oh my god, a boyfriend. You're my boyfriend? I have a boyfriend?” Jisung presses his hands against the sides of his face, squishing his cheeks.

Felix giggles a little. “Mhm, that's okay right? It feels okay?”

“Yes, I like it, it's a little weird but I really like how that sounds. A boyfriend. My boyfriend.”

Felix blushes. “Ah, stop saying it like that, it's embarrassing…”

Jisung shakes his head. “Can I kiss you again?”

Felix smiles and responds in the form of crashing their lips together. Jisung gasps. It's more intense than the one they previously shared but still very sweet and gentle. Felix's lips are so soft.

Jisung tilts his head to deepen the kiss. “I like you so much,” he mumbles against Felix's mouth between kisses. “Maybe for a while… I always… wanted you to like me… tried to impress you…”

Felix makes a quiet sound and suddenly Jisung feels wetness on his cheeks. “Are you…? Felix?” Jisung pulls away, and sure enough, there are tears pooling under Felix's eyes. Jisung looks at him with concern. “What's wrong?”

Felix ducks his head but smiles, and it's enough to quell Jisung's worries that he did something wrong. “S-Sorry—God, this is embarrassing. I-I don't know why I'm crying. I'm really happy, I promise.”

“Okay. Don't worry about it.” Jisung gently grabs Felix's face and wipes the tears from his cheeks. As he presses the skin below his eyes, an array of tiny dots start appearing, speckling his face. Jisung furrows his eyebrows. “Huh—? Do you have freckles..?”

The skin under his fingers turns pink and Felix squirms his head out of his grasp. “Nooo…”

Jisung gently grabs his face again. “No, let me see, please.” He swipes his thumbs along the other's cheeks, smudging more makeup away.

Felix sighs and seems to relent. “I don't like them…” he mutters.

Jisung is appalled. “Are you serious? Why not?”

Felix shrugs. “I dunno, just looks.. messy? And no one else here has them,” he says with a frown.

Jisung shakes his head. “They're so pretty. You're so pretty. How could you hide these? God, it's like everything little thing about you is so pretty, how is that even possible??”

“Stoooop,” Felix giggles, blushing bright red now. “They're not.. I'm not…”

“You are. You literally turned me gay or something,” he jokes. “That has to count for something.”

Felix laughs, but then his expression turns more serious. “Did I really—? I mean, you think you're gay?”

“Uh—No, I just said that. I don't know. I'm still so fucking confused,” Jisung tries to laugh it off nervously.

Felix nods. “If you wanna talk about it… no pressure of course, but I kind of went through something similar so… just, I'm here for you.”

“Thank you,” Jisung whispers. “Well, I-I think I've been trying not to think about it too much. It's scary,” he admits.

“I know. You're really brave, you know Jisung? It took me like, months—years even?—before I understood and accepted myself.”

“Yeah, but I'm sure that was years ago, right? Why is this happening to me now? Like… I've always liked girls. I don't think that's… yeah, I definitely still like girls. That's all fine. But I've literally never liked boys until now?” Jisung sighs. “Well—maybe—maybe not. I've been thinking, and like, I guess there were guys that I… really admired and… I really wanted them to like me too. To think I'm cool or funny or something. And like, yeah, I felt nervous around them, but I just kind of thought they were intimidating. But maybe…? Is that..? Were those crushes?”

Felix grabs his hand and squeezes it gently. “Maybe. It kind of sounds like it.” He pauses. “Even if they weren't, and I'm the first guy you like, that's okay too. Honestly, that would be hella flattering,” he smiles. “I don't think sexuality is like... It isn't such a rigid thing. It can be more fluid for some people, you know? It's not just black and white. If your feelings are real then that's all that matters, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah. It's just weird. I'm like so past that stage. Why didn't teenage me figure this out?” He huffs out a laugh.

“There's no set timeline for this stuff. It happens differently for everyone, right? And if you don't want to think about it right now you don't have to. You can just like whoever feels natural for you. No need to think about what box you fit into or anything like that.”

“I think I just like you,” Jisung whispers.

Felix's lips quirk up. “Yeah? That's so cute.”

Jisung is sure his face goes red. “Sh-shut up…”

“Never,” Felix grins. “No, but it's okay. You don't have to label yourself, now or ever. You don't have to be gay, or straight, or bi, or... or anything in between. You can just… be, and that's enough.”

Jisung feels tears prick his eyes. He really has no clue why he's getting emotional over this, but somehow Felix is saying exactly what he didn't know he needed to hear. “Okay, but what about Felixsexual?” He jokes.

“Pfft— then I'm Jisungsexual, okay?”

Jisung's heart feels lighter than it's ever been. He giggles. “Okay.”

—

After calming down, and both their tears are wiped away, the two of them spend a couple hours just talking and cuddling, making up for what feels like so much lost time. Seriously, why didn't they become closer friends sooner? Jisung mentally kicks himself for not being more proactive in befriending him. They click so well. Jisung is so glad Felix seems to love skinship as much as he does, they both initiate it easily and it just instantly feels natural. So easy, just like everything between them.

Eventually, they move to the living room to watch something. After only just a few minutes of scrolling through Netflix, the front door opens. Jisung looks up.

“Oh, hey Seungmin. How was your study sesh?”

“Hey. Uh, fine. Is this a bad time…?” Seungmin asks, glancing at Felix and looking at Jisung curiously.

“No, it's a great time. Seungmin, say hi to my, uh, boyfriend..?” Jisung falters saying that to someone else for the first time and it comes out like a question.

Seungmin doesn't seem to notice, or if he does, he doesn't care. “Oh, so you worked it out? I'm glad. Congrats.” He turns to Felix. “I'm Seungmin.”

Felix laughs. “Dude, I'm insulted. I thought we were mates? Does being stove partners mean nothing to people these days?”

Seungmin cracks a smile. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

Jisung jumps up in his seat. “Oh yeah! Seungmin, you're taking a freaking cooking class? Who are you??”

Seungmin shrugs. “I had extra space in my schedule.”

Felix sighs. “I wish I had extra space. I would take another class with Jisung.”

“Aww, what?” Jisung looks at him fondly.

“Seriously. Why do we only have one class together? How am I gonna handle that now that we're together?”

Jisung giggles. “If you had extra time wouldn't it be better to just spend time together and not take an extra class, silly?”

“Oh yeah, I guess. Are you sure you'd be okay with that Sungie?” Felix grins and nuzzles his head into Jisung's shoulder, cuddling into him playfully.

Sungie? Oh, Jisung's done for. He giggles again and kicks his feet (like a fucking schoolgirl or something, embarassing). “Only if you promise to binge watch my favorite animes. And make cookies with me!”

Seungmin makes a gagging sound. “...Ugh, I take back everything I said. You two together are more energy than I can reasonably tolerate. Goodbye.” He throws his hand up in a wave and starts walking to his room. He pauses in his doorway and turns around. “Oh and please for the love of god, no funny business when I'm here. I'm happy for you but not that happy.” 

Jisung turns red and he hears Felix choke on air. “Seungmin!” 

“What? You already did stuff and you weren't even dating yet. I can't trust you guys.”

Jisung throws a cushion at him. “Didn't you say bye already? Bye!!”

Seungmin rolls his eyes and throws up a peace sign before turning around and closing his door.

Jisung glances at Felix, who's equally as red-faced. They stare at each other for a few seconds before both breaking out into giggles.

Yeah, Jisung thinks he'll be alright.

—

[4 weeks later]

—

—

a/n: take a shot every time you see the word 'like' (u will die). if u made it this far THANK U SOOO MUCH FOR READING WOW! this is my first fic and it's very dear to my heart.. i'm nervous about posting it asdajfjk. any feedback would be super super appreciated! i'd love to hear your thoughts (^o^) idk how active i'll be here but i've been in a writing mood recently so keep an eye out maybe? again tysm for reading!! ♡

[loganwritesprobably]

First Meeting.. P4 (One Piece Edition)

Part one with Ace, Law and Sanji Part two with Zoro, Robin and Luffy Part three with Crocodile, Mihawk and Buggy

Here is the final three characters I planned on writing for this: Benn, Shanks and Smoker! If anyone is interested in seeing this with other characters, my requests are open. All readers are gender neutral, so everyone is welcome to enjoy. No Y/N is used!

Requests are open for x reader things! I will write basically ANY kind of reader - male, female, non-binary, gender neutral, trans, disabled, black, white, latino, asian, neurodivergent, etc

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs

Notes: For Smoker it's kind of a first re-meeting but.. that totally still counts

Generally, men that much older than you weren't your thing - but men that much older than you weren't usually that attractive. Like, this guy was hotter than 90% of the people you saw come into port. You had a rule though, you didn't flirt with people just passing through. It wasn't worth the trouble of maybe getting attached, just for them to leave again. You knew for sure that this guy would be leaving again fairly soon when you saw him interacting so casually with Emperor Red Hair Shanks. Not worth the trouble on any level.

A young woman approached your stall and struck up conversation with you, and you fell into what you knew how to do - shifting stock. An older man in town had hired you to run the market stall he owned selling animal produce, because he was getting too old to be spending so much time on his feet and in the sun. You took the job happily. A man then approached, asking about the various things you had, and you continued with what you knew best. You told him about the milks and cheeses, the furs and the meats, and he just nodded along with a list of things in hand. You told him about each product, but he just stood there looking at his list, a little clueless. "Do you want to give that list to me, and I'll get what you need?" You offered, and the man just handed the list to you with a sheepish expression. You laughed good-naturedly and took it, grabbing things quickly to set on the counter for the man to take.

You turned your back to the main window, getting a few other things listed, and when you turned back to the man once again, the hot older guy was stood there too. "Come on Yassop, you know better by now." The guy said with a sigh, but he looked fond. Both pirates then. You set the final things down and counted up the total, writing it down on the list that had been handed to you so they could keep that as a record of their expenses. "That is everything from your list." You said, pointedly speaking to the man that had been identified as Yassop rather than the handsome man. "Ouch, don't think I've ever seen you be ignored quite like that Benn." Yassop said, and sudden understanding dawned on you. Benn. Benn Beckman. You felt a little stupid for not realising sooner, not that you'd exactly spent much time thinking about pirates. You had bigger problems. "Hey, I have to leave some for the rest of you." Benn seamlessly joked back, and Yassop took the list back from you, which he passed to Benn for him to look at while you packaged everything they'd bought in paper and into bags.

Benn was the one to pay, and his fingers brushed yours as he handed over the berri for everything they'd bought. A little spark lit as you touched, which you tried very hard to ignore. You didn't care. Nobody that's visiting, you'd promised yourself. "You're damn gorgeous, by the way." Benn said, and you knew you were already fucked.

You were a pirate. You didn't like to call yourself or your crew nobodies.. but hey, sometimes things that hurt a little were true. Tiny bounties, very few fights on your records, and little to no concerns of being tracked down by marines or by bounty hunters. So you were living the pirate life on easy mode for the most part, which you weren't really complaining about, you couldn't imagine having to learn how to really be a pirate whilst being hunted. You and your crew were in a random bar on a random island, drinking them out of house and home - but you were paying them, at least.

Your crew were yelling and laughing together, and it made you smile. You'd been looking over some paperwork (and why did being a pirate involve paperwork?), with a drink in hand, letting them have their fun. Most of them were a little younger than you, and if not physically then certainly mentally. Your head shot up as the door swung open to reveal some older men whose faces you recognised. Lucky Roux, Yassop, Limejuice, Hongo, Benn Beckman. The Red Hair Pirate crew. You didn't think this was one of their islands, you'd have noticed you were sure of it, so there was nothing wrong with you being there.

You sat very still for a few minutes, just watching what they would do, and how your crew was reacting. They were mostly oblivious, which was fine, as long as they weren't running your mouth they'd probably be okay. The Red Hair pirates also didn't seem to pay your crew any mind, which you weren't exactly surprised by.

When the door opened again, letting more sunlight into the relatively dark venue, the more experienced pirates looked up and laughed and cheered. Enter Emperor Red Hair Shanks. He was a sight to behold. You could feel his strength radiating from him, and damn he was handsome. You wondered if the rumours of his flirtatious personality held any stock, because you certainly wouldn't mind being flirted with. The man looked around the room, and as if he could hear your thoughts, his eyes locked on you. You looked quickly back down at your paperwork, but couldn't see any of the words. He didn't approach immediately, but a few minutes later someone did sit at your table with you. You looked up to find Shanks, with a drink in hand. "Your drink looks pretty empty, can I get you a refill?"

Once upon a time, you'd been training to be a marine, alongside Smoker. Not anymore. You'd seen some of the things that the marines were willing to do to civilians first hand and you hadn't been able to reconcile that with what you wanted to do with your life. Rather, you became a pirate. Yes, both pirates and marines had the power to do both bad and good things, but pirates didn't answer to a higher power in the way that marines did. You could choose to do good every day, and you didn't have to ask permission - so that was what you did.

More than anything, you were a travelling doctor. Your crew didn't fight, and neither did you really. You were all more than capable, but it was a last resort, because you all intended to do good as much and as often as you could.

Smoker had continued onward into the marines, and you'd lost a valuable friend.

You were in Alabasta, aware that the warlord Sir Crocodile kept the citizens safe, but one of your crew members wanted to visit home, and it never hurt to check in. You found devastation. Most of your crew members at least knew basic first aid, and so you deployed in pairs or trios to different towns to try to treat those that you found still alive. They were dying en masse of dehydration, and those who weren't dying from dehydration were suffering sunstroke, or illnesses they already had were worsened. You came across many a drunk child, because a mother decided alcohol was better than total dehydration, and you appreciated that they were trying. You gave away the ship's entire stock of fresh water, and your shipwright showed everyone how to build water filtration systems, so that you could show that to the citizens too. Then, you were able to distribute salt water that could be filtered into drinking water.

You were there for weeks. Then the marines flew through.

"What are you-" A familiar voice called out, and you froze where you were patching up a child's leg wound from collapsing. You took a deep breath, and checked the wrap, then stood to face Smoker. "Hello, Smoker." You said, voice soft, and he couldn't seem to find a response.

[hannahbarberra162]

The Crocodile's Gambit, Part 3

18+ MDNI on Ao3

The other chapters

Thank you to my VSN (Very Special Nonnie) who betas almost everything I write… ⊙﹏⊙

There will be at least one more chapter after this one 😅

~

In Crocodile’s estimation, things had been going exceptionally well for the Cross Guild. They had an established territory, money was pouring in from their protected islands, and they were settling in on Karai Bari island. He didn’t have to live in a confined space with Buggy and his crew, he was now in the process of building his own manor on the island. He already had a residence, but it wasn’t up to his standards. It was only a five bedroom house, nothing like the mansions he was used to. It wasn’t decadent, it didn’t have a single chandelier, no humidified room for his cigars, not even a wine cellar. Crocodile felt that it was basically akin to camping outdoors given the lack of luxuries. Despite being cramped by the tiny abode, being able to avoid hearing Buggy and his loud crew decreased the Clown’s chances of death exponentially. And on top of all of that, you were spending more time with him, and not just during chess matches. 

Crocodile had demanded that you report to him directly, ordering Buggy that he needed dedicated cleaning staff just for his residence. Buggy had given Crocodile a pointed look but conceded under the stipulation that Crocodile had to ask you and you had to agree . A preposterous notion, Crocodile thought, crew were assigned to tasks, not asked to do them. Still, he’d rather ask than risk you objecting, he knew that you would do - or not do - anything for your Captain. Originally Crocodile thought to challenge you to a chess match, but he wasn’t confident that he would win. He’d gotten better, you’d even told him so, but you still won an overwhelming majority of the chess matches the two of you played. Instead, he’d asked you at the end of a long evening spent chatting, drinking, and playing chess.

“I need staff for my residence,” Crocodile said, sipping on his whiskey. You were sipping your third drink the way he taught you to, letting it hit your tongue and savoring the taste. A few weeks prior he gave you a tumbler of a delectable 150 year old vintage and you immediately drank it down like a shot. Crocodile realized you needed some lessons on drinking whiskey and had been educating you ever since. At first you hadn’t liked the beverage much, but now you appreciated the dark burn on your tongue. Watching you swirl your whiskey in its glass he could tell you were listening, but weren’t responding.

“Well?” Crocodile prompted, crossing his legs, wanting to hear your agreement. He didn’t want another circumstance where you denied him, his ego still stung from when you’d turned down joining his crew.

“Well what?” you asked, rolling your eyes. Crocodile drew sharply on his cigar and uncrossed his legs, sitting forward.

“Well, would you like to be my personal staff? I’ve already asked, what is your answer?” Crocodile hated repeating himself. 

“You didn’t ask me anything before. You told me a statement, ‘I need staff.’ But yes, I’ll c-clean your house.” Crocodile rubbed his temple, he wasn’t accustomed to asking for anything, much less getting grief over it. 

“Good, it’s settled. You start tomorrow. I’ll need my office cleaned with -” you waved your hand, cutting Crocodile off. If anyone else did that, they’d be needing to find a hook much like his own.

“Don’t tell me how to do my j-job, I’m competent enough. Spent enough years doin’ this to know how to polish, wipe, and c-clean,” you finished with a small slur of your words. Crocodile hadn’t realized how inebriated you were, but then again, you were much smaller than he was. Crocodile wasn’t used to sharing his good alcohol with anyone under 2 meters tall. Even Nico Robin had been almost 2 meters, and she could hold her alcohol well. 

“Very well, I’ll leave everything to your expertise,” Crocodile said indulgently, rolling his cigar between his fingertips.

“Pfff. Y-you should be thankful, n-none… no one wants to clean your house,” you said stumbling over your words. Crocodile was immediately on alert - he did not like to hear information about himself that he did not already know. What did the staff know that he didn’t? 

“And why would that be?” he drawled, showing no emotion in his voice or features. Crocodile had spent years honing his ability to keep his emotions from telegraphing in his face or voice. If the Clown had said anything negative about him to their crew, it would be another long week spent on a hook for him.

“All the goddamn SAND, ‘s annoying,” you finished with a groan. Ah. Well, Crocodile never spent his time cleaning after himself, he had you to do that for him. Crocodile smiled widely.

“Which is why I am ever so grateful for you, my dear,” Crocodile said, taking your hand and kissing the top, like a gentleman, making you giggle lightly. Crocodile knew you were tipsy but he still enjoyed the pretty flush that came to your face when he kissed your hand. He wondered if you’d flush when he kissed your pretty little mouth. Crocodile had been planning on seducing you, but he was waiting until his manor was completed before making any moves. Once his mansion was complete, he would have many opportunities to sidle up to you, create circumstances for lingering touches, he’d have you wrapped around his hook in no time. Crocodile was an old hat at creating romance when he wanted to, this would be his way to get you into checkmate. 

“I believe you’re done for the night. You have to work tomorrow, I hear your boss is rather…demanding,” Crocodile smirked in an approximation of a smile. 

“Ugh, you have n-no idea,” you said, smiling at him and rolling your eyes. 

~

A few weeks later, Crocodile’s new mansion was no closer to being completed. If anything, it was in worse shape than before since he kept losing his temper and burying parts of it in sand. The Marines had forestalled the ships carrying raw materials to Karai Bari island, bringing the construction to a grinding halt. Even though CrossGuild had subordinate crews, the widespread Marines could, and did, use their positions to their advantage and stop shipments from coming into or out of the Yonko’s territory. Word spread quickly among the crew that Crocodile was in a bad mood, and not to disturb him unless there was good news.

“What’s got your panties in such a twist?” you asked Crocodile one evening during a chess match. Even you had been getting a harsher version of Crocodile, despite his best efforts. You’d noted that he was on a definitive losing streak, making his mood even worse. He was sullen and withdrawn, which further spoiled his plans to seduce you. But how could he think to win you over you in this pile of rubble? No, he needed things to be in order, all his strategies thought through, all his bananawanis in a row, before he could enact his plans.

Puffing a billowing cloud of smoke into the air, Crocodile deigned to respond to your coarse language. “The Marines,” he drawled, “are preventing shipments of raw materials to the island. It’s halting progress on my mansion.” Crocodile hadn’t actually told anyone else the reason for his bad mood, it was none of their business.

“So? Fix it,” you answered shrugging while moving a pawn closer to his King.

“Ah, just fix it. I see. An easy solution to my problem,” Crocodile intoned, crossing his legs and taking your pawn with his knight. Anyone else would be quaking in their boots from Crocodile’s deceptively calm tone, but you didn’t even spare him a glance. “And how do you propose that I fix it, hmm? Please, enlighten me to the solution that no other Yonko has thought of before now.” Crocodile knew he was being cruel and taunting you, but you weren't phased.

“Set bounties on the Marines,” you said, eyes focused not on him but still on the chess board. Crocodile blinked and took out a soft cloth to polish his hook while he thought.

“Tell me more,” Crocodile demanded, smoking his cigar while he polished. You finally looked up from the board and at him directly.

“It’s simple. Set bounties on the Marines. They do it to pirates and revolutionaries, set your own. You have enough money to back it,” you replied. Crocodile thought about your idea, it had some merit.

“It would spur fighting between pirates and bounty hunters, but how will that help my shipments? Most of them come from civilian companies, or merchant marines,” he reflected. He did like the idea of turning the tables on the Marines but the idea needed more fleshing out.

“That’s exactly why it’ll work. The Marines are used to fighting pirates and getting support or at least neutrality from civilians. But let’s say there is a big enough reward,” you explained, picking up another pawn, “civilians’ll at least consider turning in a few Marines. And if a Marine or two are captured and brought here, morale among their troops will tank. Marines will have to look over their shoulders constantly, won't be able to trust any island, especially poor ones. That’s where the raw materials come from right? Poor islands mining their resources?  If the Marines stop trades coming from poor islands, people will have to find money somewhere, maybe from bounties.” You used your pawn to flick over his King, winning the game. “Everyone has their uses,” you finished, sitting back and folding your hands in your lap.

Crocodile looked at you in awe. You had single handedly solved a problem that had been plaguing not only Cross Guild, but everyone fighting against the World Government. Not only that, but done it while winning a chess game and ignoring Crocodile’s nasty attitude. Crocodile could have kissed you right then and there, he didn’t think he would find anyone as brilliant as you if he searched every Blue in the world. You’d earned more than Crocodile’s respect, you had his admiration, something only the Pirate King had held before. 

Bad mood dissipating, Crocodile quickly thought through the implications of your plan. He’d present it to Mihawk tomorrow, and they’d tell Buggy what would be happening. He couldn’t credit you directly, he needed to maintain his reputation, but he would reward you with as many gems and jewels as you wanted. He took his cigar in hand, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, deep in thought.

“That’s all it took to make you happy, huh?” you asked, amusement in your voice. You sat back in your chair, grinning at him.

Crocodile grunted. “And how do you know I’m happy, hm?” He was elated you’d solved his problem, but it bothered Crocodile to no end that he couldn’t hide some of his emotions from you. He was used to being unreadable, unpredictable, and aloof, not read through and through like a cheap novel.

“You’re twirling your cigar. You only do that when you’re really happy,” you stated, pointing to the cigar in his hand. Normally, Crocodile would be irritated at your observation, but he was in the mood for celebration.

“Of course I’m happy my dear, I have the smartest and most beautiful woman on the Grand Line sitting across from me, giving me the most exquisite ideas on how to run my criminal empire,” Crocodile said languidly. 

“I have one more idea,” you stated, “I think it’s just as good as the last one.”

“Oh?” Crocodile asked, interested already, “and what would that be?”

“I think we should fuck,” you stated, looking into Crocodile’s eyes.

Crocodile took a moment to blink slowly several times. He was glad for all his training, all of his work in keeping his emotions out of his face and body. He’d even trained himself to stop running his hand through his hair thanks to you. Otherwise, he thought, you would have found him completely off guard. Normally your crude language bothered him immensely, but now…your invitation to fuck was stirring a fire within him. Still, he didn’t want to let you know that you’d won, that you’d caught him unaware yet again. He wanted to let you twist in the wind a little, to have you feel a little uncertain and off-kilter, like he often was around you.

“And what makes you think this is a good idea?” Crocodile asked in a deep voice, resuming polishing his hook. He had nearly taken his cigar in hand, but was consciously preventing himself from telegraphing his happiness. 

“I dunno, you might be a good lay. Based on your height alone, you probably have a big cock. Maybe you’d let me ride you, but I’m not sure,” you mused. Crocodile raised an eyebrow, crossing one leg over the other to hide his growing erection, continuing to put his attention into his hook.

“Go on,” Crocodile husked, “what else?” He enjoyed you stroking his ego, and if you were a good little maid, he would let you stroke him elsewhere. Not that you needed to know that yet.

“Well, I think you might be kinda selfish in bed. Not sure yet,” you said, raising a shoulder. “Like, if I have to get myself off, we’ll only get together once,” you said while raking Crocodile over with your eyes, “maybe twice.” Crocodile scowled and you quickly chided him. “Oh, don’t be mad. Think of it as a challenge to prove me wrong.” 

“And what if I’m not interested?” Crocodile was going to turn the screws a little before you interrupted him.

“You are,” you said definitively, “I know you’re interested.” You stood up and sashayed over to him, plopping yourself in his lap. Crocodile gently grabbed your face and squished your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger carefully, pointing your face towards his own. You were sitting in the lap of one of the most powerful men in the world, taunting him relentlessly, and still had the audacity to smile like the cat that ate the cream. Crocodile couldn’t have been more titillated.

“How?” Crocodile purred indulgently. “I didn’t run my hand through my hair. How do you know?” he said, letting go of your face so you could answer.

“You’re polishing your hook, means you’re intrigued. Like a cat flicking its tail,” you replied, “but I’ll give you time to pretend to think it over.” You pushed off of Crocodile’s lap, and he let you stand up. You leaned over him, kissed his cheek, and walked off towards the door. “Let me know, Croc,” you threw back over your shoulder with a wink.

You won again.

~

That same night, Crocodile laid in his double king bed, wide awake. He was exhausted, yet sleep evaded him hour after hour. He rubbed the end of his stump, finding the repetitive motion soothing on his aching arm. He removed his golden hook every night, setting it on the bedside table next to him. His custom made silk bedsheets were quite expensive to replace and easy to shred. Crocodile hadn’t been seen without it since it was fitted to his arm, even when he was having sexual escapades. It wasn’t that he needed his hook, his power came from his strength, his haki, his mind, and his Logia fruit. But he preferred the way he felt with it on, his loss to Whitebeard overshadowed by his ability to overcome defeat. He didn’t feel vulnerable without it, that would be impossible given his undeniable strength. He just strongly preferred to never be seen without it. Running his fingers over the scars on his stump, his mind whirled with thoughts.

Well, only one thought, really. He kept thinking about you saying that you wanted to fuck , over and over. He felt the weight of you sitting in his lap, brushing against his turgid erection. He saw your  hips swaying as you walked and the little wink you’d given him as you left. Crocodile had never felt as desperate as he did now. Even worse was the fact that you’d been right about everything you’d said, as always . He did have a huge cock, which he was proud of, and he was a selfish lover. It wasn’t a skill issue, but he rarely found reason to put in the effort to make his partners come. Women flung themselves at him left and right wherever he went, he never had to work to find comfort in the arms of another. Crocodile fucked for his own pleasure only, and his partners usually came. If they didn’t, well, they had hands, didn’t they? Crocodile didn’t bother to concern himself with the pleasure of others when he would never see them again. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d entertained the same person more than once.

Except… he couldn’t even imagine a scenario where he left you wanting. He kept imagining you spread out before him, moaning in pleasure as he thrust into you on the green silk sheets of his huge bed. Or, sitting back in his oversized chair, letting you do all the work bouncing on his cock, sucking on your tits as he played with your clit. Or, Crocodile spreading your legs and biting into the soft flesh of your inner thigh, teasing you as you grew slick before his eyes, his wandering kisses moving upwards, upwards, upwards, until he finally captured your clit with his mouth and made you scream his name. No, he would show you that he wasn’t selfish when it came to your satisfaction, he was going to make you cry with how much pleasure he’d give you.

All of these thoughts did not help Crocodile’s continuing erection, which was straining against the weight of the blanket above him. He considered the possibility of dealing with his twitching cock himself, but no, you put him into this situation and you’d get him out. Throwing the blankets and sheets off the bed, Crocodile quickly dressed and summoned Daz. 

“What’s up, Boss?” Daz asked while yawning. Late night summons weren’t as common as they had been in Alabasta, but Crocodile didn’t pay Daz to complain.

“Go get the maid, I’ll be in my office,” Crocodile ordered. He didn’t elaborate, he didn’t need to explain his actions to his second in command. Daz grunted and went to follow the directive, leaving Crocodile to wait for your arrival in his office, sitting in the same chair he played chess with you in. He had a small pang of remorse for waking you in the night, but you deserved it for tormenting him. Besides, he’d give you the day off tomorrow, you’d need it after a long night spent with him.

About twenty minutes later, you knocked and cracked opened the door to Crocodile’s office. Your hair looked rumpled from sleep but there was a mischievous look in your eyes. You were only wearing a loose gauzy shirt that hung down to your knees. It wasn’t the sexy kind of lingerie that Crocodile was used to seeing, but it made him want to lift it and find out what was underneath the billowing fabric. He was surprised you hadn’t covered your neck, but maybe you were forgetful from getting up late in the night.

“And how may I help you at this late hour, Sir Crocodile?” you asked with a raised eyebrow, like you already knew what he wanted.

“I’ve thought about your idea,” Crocodile replied, patting his lap and spreading his legs in anticipation of you perching on them. “As always, your keen insight is most appreciated. You are correct - we should fuck.” The crass words were not what Crocodile would usually use for seduction but it felt right considering your initial proposition. 

You smiled and sauntered over to his seated form, sitting down facing Crocodile. He was sure you could feel his large erection through his thin work slacks, but you'd have more opportunities to inspect it more closely soon. 

“About fuckin’ time,” you breathed, looking into his face, your small hands on his shoulders.

“About fuckin’ time,” Crocodile agreed. With that, he leaned in and captured your lips with his own. He took control of the kiss quickly, and to his delight, you let him. You were a tad clumsy in your kissing, but nothing that couldn’t be helped with a few lessons. Holding the back of your head with his hand, he angled your mouth so he could better slip his tongue inside. He was greedy and impatient, wanting all of you at once, kissing you, nipping your lips, caressing your tongue with his own. He held you in place as he showed you what he wanted, how to please him with your kiss, and you were a quick study. He kissed you until you broke away, chest heaving. Letting go of your head, he rucked up your shirt that was bunched up under you and put his hand on the meat of your ass. To his surprise, you weren’t wearing anything under your makeshift nightgown. 

“Little vixen,” Crocodile growled, lightly slapping your ass, “you came here naked? What if I wanted you to clean something, hm?” You laughed and shrugged.

“Guess you would have gotten a show either way,” you said, pushing your hands through Crocodile’s dark locks, leaving them entwined behind his neck. Pressing down against Crocodile’s lap, you let out a little moan as his cock gave you friction where you wanted it most. Crocodile was kneading your ass with his hand while planting kisses along your jaw, up to your ear. He wasn’t sure if you would like being kissed over your scar, he would need to ask. He often forgot about his own distinctive facial scar but he knew others had mixed emotions about their own. 

“You don’t have to do that,” you said, breaking away while rolling your hips against his own. 

“Do what?” Crocodile murmured, biting your earlobe gently between his teeth. Crocodile didn’t like to be told what to do, especially in bed, but he also didn’t want to do anything that would upset you.

“Kiss me ‘n stuff like that, I know guys don’t care,” you blurted. Crocodile pulled back, using the flat of his hook and his hand to still your movements against his cock. Crocodile searched your face closely, a blush rising on your cheeks as he scoured your face.

“ Guys may not care, but I certainly do. Have you forgotten your challenge, little maid?” Crocodile husked into your ear. You tried moving again, but his grip on your hip was unrelenting. “Ah, ah. It’s my turn to play,” Crocodile said, nipping your collarbone, “and I intend to take my time.” Your face went even more crimson at his words, and you weren’t meeting his gaze anymore. Normally, you were brazen in your wants and desires, but suddenly were feeling a little flustered.

“May I touch your scar?” Crocodile purred, running a finger on the side of your neck, avoiding the line of your scar. You nodded, turning your head to bare your neck even further. Crocodile used his hand to cup your cheek, holding the weight of your head in his large hand.

“May I kiss it as well?” he asked, his breath tickling your neck. Your breathing went ragged as he ghosted his lips over your neck, waiting for your reply. You nodded, but Crocodile wasn’t accepting that this time. “With your words.”

“Y-yes. Please kiss me there,” you stammered, still blushing. It seemed you could be taught manners after all, you just needed the proper incentive.

Crocodile kissed you slowly, nipping and licking across your neck. He wasn’t sure how much sensation you retained there, but he found the mark of your resilience unbearably attractive. Since he was cupping your face, your hips had again begun their dance, grinding against his own. He continued kissing, but began raising your shirt further, running his hand up your back. He felt more scars, but you were here and alive in his lap, so everything must have been in the past. Holding the hem of your shirt, he began lifting it off slowly, inch by inch.

Once he got it up to your waist, you paused him with a hand on his forearm. “It’s not pretty, I’m warning you in advance,” you said, wresting your neck away to look at him for a moment.

“You’re lovely,” Crocodile replied lightly. Many prior partners had some form of body insecurity, he was familiar with the notion. 

“No, it’s not - well, if you don’t want to continue after you see, I won’t blame you,” you said, shrugging quickly. You were trying to play it off nonchaltantly, but Crocodile noticed your tightening jaw and your shoulders stiffen. Curious now, Crocodile took your shirt completely off, aided by you raising your arms in the air. 

Dropping the shirt to the floor, Crocodile studied your nude form before him as you hunched your shoulders forward. Both of you were right, as it turned out. You were absolutely stunning - beautiful skin, luscious tits, and feminine curves all begging for Crocodile to taste. However, covering your perfect form were scars too numerous to count. The crooks of your arms were littered in old puncture wounds and your chest, arms, upper legs, and back had long, thin, parallel scars with uneven suture marks covering them. Whatever injury that had caused the scars was deliberate and frequent, but Crocodile couldn’t understand the poor quality of the medical repair. He studied you in silence, running his fingers over the lines marring your skin.

Breaking Crocodile’s inspection, you leaned over the side of the chair, grasping your shirt with your fingertips. “It’s alright, I get it, I really do,” you said softly. Your tone was understanding but you were flushed and avoiding eye contact. “It’s a lot, I know, and -”

“Hush,” Crocodile chided you softly, running his fingertips along your back, causing you to arch with the sensation. 

“I’ll just put my shirt back on, it’ll be easier for both -”

While you spoke, Crocodile unlatched his hook, letting it fall to the carpeted ground beside the chair with a loud thud. 

[darylas]

Chapter 2 - It’s Only a Paper Moon

John “Bucky” Egan x singer!fem!reader previous ♫ next ♫ ao3

Bucky is realizing that your performance doesn't end when you leave the stage, but he's determined to see what lies under the mask.

1.8k words

Warnings: Language, Smoking, Bucky being a little shit

Disclaimer: Most of the characters mentioned are based on the dramatic portrayal featured in the Masters of the Air limited series, not the actual historical figures they represent.

You stood outside the officers' club, slouching against the back wall and using one hand to massage your cheeks. Before joining the American Red Cross and moving overseas, you’d never realized just how sore one’s face could get from smiling all day long. How tired one could become of the sound of their own false laughter. Never appreciated just how valuable a quiet moment alone could really be. 

Your days at Thorpe Abbotts had quickly grown monotonous, though you supposed that rehearsing and performing with the band multiple days a week made your experience a bit more unique than the other volunteers’. 

For you, the most difficult part of the job was not waking up before dawn to prepare doughnuts and coffee for the airmen, though you were counting down the days until your next morning off.

It also wasn’t the fact that you and your fellow ARC girls were nothing less than amateur psychiatrists, offering a comforting and listening ear to soldiers who were fresh out of combat to process their violent experiences. You felt that you had become quite adept at keeping your attitude from being too bright, thus seeming uncaring, or too sympathetic, which might evoke even darker emotions from the soldier. Thanks to these revealing conversations, you came to know a lot more than you anticipated about the horrors of war.

It certainly wasn’t performing in front of large crowds; you had always been good at that. 

No, for you the most draining aspect of your job was moments like this one, the moments between musical numbers. Making small talk, smiling at all times, laughing at the same joke you’d already been told at least thirty times as if it were the funniest thing you’d ever heard. Truthfully, it felt like a much grander performance than anything you’d ever done on stage. Ever since you were a child, you cherished your alone time and preferred genuine, intellectual conversation to what felt like pointless small talk. At this point, the mask you wore during these moments seemed to be plastered to your face at all times. You would never reveal this to the men, of course. This was why you were here, to give these brave men a piece of home and to raise morale. 

Of course, while ARC girls were expected to attend parties and socialize, they were not required to accept every invitation. While most of the men were harmless and polite, there were some who you would prefer to avoid interaction with altogether. Major Egan being one of them. 

You had always been one to trust your instincts about a person, and something about the major kept you at a distance. For one, he was full of himself, or at least he seemed to be. You supposed that was not uncommon in young officers with higher ranks. For another thing, word spread among the women fast enough for you to know that a dance with John Egan often didn’t end once the music stopped. You had no interest in being anyone’s conquest of the month. 

Right now, you knew you had a few minutes before your next number. You had been able to sneak out for a moment with the rather poor excuse of needing some fresh air to boost your lung volume and vocal control. You took out your sad little lighter and a cigarette from one of the packs of four rationed to each soldier. This pack was gifted to you by a young private who said he didn’t smoke. Fresh air, indeed. 

You flipped open the lid and thumbed the wheel once, twice, three times with no flame. You kept trying, but the damn thing still wouldn’t light. “Oh for crying out loud, you goddamn son of a b-”

“Need a light?”

═════ ♫ ═════

Bucky watched you transform before his eyes. Your posture went from slouched to straight-backed; your expression from one of annoyance and frustration to unnervingly neutral. You could certainly teach a thing or two about standing at attention to many of the airmen under his command. He had to stop himself from saying “At ease, soldier.” While it was impressive, it was not the reception he had been hoping for. 

“Major Egan,” you said. “I’m sorry, I thought I was alone out here.” 

“Yeah, I gathered that,” he replied, pulling his Zippo out of his pocket. “And you can call me Bucky.” He ignited the lighter. 

You glanced at the flame and then back at him gratefully before lighting your cigarette. “Thank you for the light, but if you don’t mind I would prefer to continue addressing you professionally.” 

“Oh, well in that case, you can call me John. Mind if I have a smoke with you?” he asked, already taking out a cigarette and putting it in his mouth. 

Bucky noticed a slight pause before you replied, “Of course not, but wouldn’t you rather join everyone else in the club? From what I gather, you’re often the life of the party.” You looked toward the door. 

Bucky grinned. “I don’t know about that. Since you started singing here, I’d say you’ve earned that title yourself.” He leaned against the wall next to you, though you were now standing straight. “‘Sides, I see too much of those guys as it is. Trust me, you’re much better company.” He winked. 

You exhaled a cloud of smoke and said “You’re too kind,” then gave him a close-mouthed smile. You looked away and tapped your foot absent-mindedly to the muted sound of the lively music coming from inside. Bucky took a drag of his own cigarette. You remained quiet, the tapping of your foot on the gravel and the muted jazz tune being the only sounds for several seconds. Bucky frowned. Every other Red Cross girl he interacted with made small talk, asking him questions about his home town, listening excitedly as he talked about baseball. Hell, you had more to say to your dead lighter than you did to him. 

It appeared that flattery was not the key to unlocking your clearly well-protected personality. It didn’t convince you to dance with him the other night, and it certainly wasn’t working now. He scoffed to himself. Buck would smirk and say that he should’ve asked Bubbles for advice before making another attempt with you. 

He could give up. Accept the fact that you clearly didn’t like him, go inside, and have a drink with the boys. 

Or he could try something else. Something Buck would call him a loony for even thinking.

Looking straight ahead, he said, “Don’t, uh, don’t they interview you Red Cross girls? Before you can come overseas? I thought the ones that got sent over here had to have killer personalities or somethin’.” He glanced toward you while taking another drag. 

Your brow furrowed and you turned your head toward him. “I beg your pardon?”

There you are.

“Aww, you don’t gotta beg me, sweetheart. It’s okay, I get that not everybody is cut out for this.” He gestured with the hand holding his cigarette. “I just find it odd that you made the cut. I was under the impression that the competition to get this position was pretty fierce, but maybe there are fewer girls gunnin’ for it than I thought.” He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling, keeping a serious expression on his face.

You narrowed your eyes and slightly cocked your head to the side. “I expect you to apologize for that, Major.” 

Bucky nodded quickly and tossed his cigarette on the ground before crushing the butt beneath his heel. “You’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry about that.” He leaned against the wall once again, this time facing you. “I’m sure you’re doing the best you can. You do seem a little tired.” He looked at you sympathetically, then glanced down to watch you bite your bottom lip. Miraculously, he was able to tear his gaze away to look you in the eyes again, not wanting to miss your reaction.

After a few more seconds of tense silence, you looked away and disposed of your cigarette. “Thank you again for the light. I’m going inside.” You walked toward the door. 

What the hell was that?

He must have inadvertently spoken the question aloud, because you abruptly turned around and raised an eyebrow at him. He started to apologize for cursing at you, but instead he said, “You’re not gonna say anything? Not a ‘how dare you?’ Not gonna call me a goddamn son of a bitch? Or do you just save that fire for your lighter?” You continued to watch him silently. “I guess you also save all the laughs and dances for every other guy here.” He pointed hard with both index fingers to his chest. “But me? Oh, lucky me, I get nothin’.” He stopped talking and looked at you with anticipation, both of his brows raised.

You finally shrugged and said, “I suppose I’m just too tired,” then started again for the door. Bucky forced himself to unclench his jaw and pry his feet from their current spot. He hurried to beat you to the door and hold it open for you. 

You muttered a quiet “thank you” as you walked through, but before you could get far into the crowded room, Bucky was once again by your side. 

“You know, I got a theory,” he said, his voice a little brighter than it had been just moments ago.

Whether you had meant for him to or not, he heard you let out a huff from your nose. “Oh, please,” you said under your breath.

“I told you, you don’t have to beg me, sweetheart.” He continued. “I think you know that if you dance with me, you’ll realize I’m not such a bad guy,” he said, leaning in quite close to you but giving you enough space to back away. You didn’t. “I think you’re scared you’ll like it.” 

You didn’t blush or move away. Instead, you maintained eye contact as the band began playing It’s Only a Paper Moon. You responded with that polite, cryptic smile that was beginning to drive him nuts, and said softly, “I guess we’ll never know.” 

You didn’t wait for him to reply before making your way toward the microphone. The crowd cheered eagerly as they saw you approach. You beamed at the crowd and began to sing. 

Say it’s only a paper moon

Sailing over a cardboard sea

You motioned to the crowd to sing along with you for the next line, a silent command that everyone except Bucky obeyed wholeheartedly. For once, he was the only person in the room not singing. 

But it wouldn’t be make-believe

If you believed in me

As the band played a brief interlude, you said into the microphone, “Wow, you all sound fabulous. I’m not sure why they’ve got me up here. Heck, they aren’t even paying me.” The crowd laughed and remained enraptured with your performance. As burnt up as he was feeling, Bucky couldn’t help hanging onto every note. As he watched you sing and smile and joke, he had one thought run continuously through his mind.

Just who the hell is this woman?

A/N: This one's for my fellow masking introverts. Yeah so Bucky decided to use kindergarten tactics on reader. Next chapter, he pushes her off the swings. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!

[yaut-jaknowit]

How about high tension between a male yautja and human. Where one gets drunk and finally yells that they want to fuck them already.

Tensions Run High

Pairing: Icheall-Dua (male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2555

Summary: It was at a gathering for Yautjas and humans alike on a different planet than Yautja Prime. You had been constantly trying to hit up Icheall-Dua and he couldn’t get the idea! So, one night, during a feast of celebration that Icheall-Dua was going to become leader of the clan, you get drunk. A very bad thing. You have loose lips. When you tried again with Icheall-Dua and he doesn’t get it again, you straight up yell it in front of the clan.  

Author Note: I realized this has taken me two months to get to. Sorry that production has slowed down. I've been grinding away at my game. Also, I didn't know if you wanted spicy or not, so I decided to leave it out just encase. Enjoy!

Masterlist

Ao3

Sonorous voices that boomed across the clearing filled the air. Joyous in nature. Prideful for the years to come. Every rise and fall of the suns to bring a life and challenges to the clan. You held up a cup of a drink that was considered alcohol. Between a Yautja and human mixture of potent alcohol, deluded for yourself.

It reminded you of whiskey with the slight burn with each sip you took. A drink not meant for shots. Rather just to take sips here and there. It’ll still knock you on your ass three drinks later. So, you took your time to consume the interesting taste of the smokey concoction.

Despite living among the predators of the universe and showing we are equals rather than enemies, the two species have come together. Some clans as you’ve heard are more reluctant, or rather downright say no, to allowing humans into their ranks.

Others, like the one you live in, are more accepting if you pull your own. You will not be babied. If you die, you die. A kill or be killed world on this planet. This isn’t even Yautja Prime. Yet, its dangers rival Yautja Prime.

You breathed in the marshes stagnant air. Though the division is still evident; Yautjas with Yautjas and humans with humans, you couldn’t help but find yourself drawn to Icheall-Dua. Marsh green and cream bellied. His scales are basic compared to those you’ve seen throughout your time through a few clans.

What Icheall-Dua lacks in different physical aspects, he makes up in his skills. From the words whispered amongst the clan, he’s a prodigy. He’s the next best thing. A male anyone would kill to be but could never get to his level. Yet, no matter how many times you try to send the right signals in Icheall-Dua’s direction, he doesn’t see it! The skulls, the meat, the Yautja way of courting!

Weeks of research were put into this before you attempted the first time. It should’ve been clear as a peacock spreading its tail feathers. No though. He accepted the gifts but never said anything after that.

At first, you drew back to ensure what you read was correct. Skulls of creatures are the first step. You did just that. Yeah, it wasn’t the dangerous creature on this planet but it nearly killed you! His obliviousness didn’t deter you though. You took a slow sip of your drink again, eyes sliding over to the beast that filled your thoughts.

A large cup filled with a similar concoction to your own was cupped in one of his large hands. Two of three fingers missing on that hand. You knew there was harrowing story to explain what happened. A story you would love to listen to with his deep, grating voice. The sound crunchy like stepping on a gravel road. Another sip downed the rest of the liquid.

With a sigh, you stepped around the larger species that filled the space to the bar tender. A night like this was to be celebrated with alcohol always being included.

After living around these guys for a quarter of your life time, you have learned it’s best to slip between them. Some will shift their weight allow you easier access around them. Yet, many have the mindset not to move for anything. You’ve learned to be slippery rather than it becoming a dick measuring contest. Not submission but avoiding unnecessary fighting. Why get wounded if it all could be avoided? Somethings in this culture you’ll never come to understand.

Once you reached the bar tender again, you set your empty glass on the counter and tapped twice. Ci’tha grunted and immediately got to work. Your drink was set in front of you with a tangy tasting fruit on the rim. You thanked the yellow based Yautja with a dip of your head then leaned against the count with your back to it. People watching.

Other humans were amongst the crowd, mingling with mainly other humans. Only a select few were chatting away with the friendlier Yautjas in the clan. None of them dared to go close to Icheall-Dua nor his father who had a permanent scowl etched into his worn features. A life lived through the ways of a Yautja of hunting and gaining scars along the way.

Icheall-Dua went to sip at his cup only to find it empty and shook his cup. You instantly noticed and spun around to face Ci’tha. “Do you remember what Icheall-Dua is having?” you rushed out and jerked your head over towards Icheall-Dua direction. The poor yellow Yautja jolted at the sudden move then glared at you. You sheepishly smiled an apology at him.

Ci’tha rolled his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, I do. Why?” he grunted and raised a brow at you.

“Can you make it? Yautja sized?” you sweetly asked the lanky Yautja who stood in your way of impressing Icheall-Dua some more. Though, the two of you didn’t talk on the regular, he could see what was happening. He rolled his blue eyes again before got to work.

The large mug was set before you. You threw a thanks towards Ci’tha before snatching it racing through the sea of bodies. At points, you nearly shoved your way through but reframed from starting a fight. All you had was a mug and a small knife not long enough to hit anything important on a Yautja.

After breeching the main crowd of people, you were able to make your way up to Icheall-Dua standing in all of his glory. His father only a couple of steps away from him, speaking to another Yautja. Icheall-Dua, himself, was crowd watching until you stopped before him.

“Hello… I saw your cup was empty and retrieved one for you,” you spoke up and presented the cup to him. His sky blue eyes looked down upon over the jut of his small snout. Icheall-Dua blinked slowly in boredom, gaze glancing to the cup in your hand.

He reached out and took it. A critical eye peered and inspected the contents. You gnawed on your bottom lip, in hopes he would accept the drink but nothing else was working. Maybe a drink would win him over.

The Yautja raised his shoulders in a shrug and gulped from the cup. You silently cheered to yourself, praying this was him finally noticing your advances towards him.

Next to him, Zutouh, his father, leaned over and scoffed at you. It didn’t deter you though. Through his one good eye, he analyzed you. Not all Yautjas still accept humans into their ranks. The older generations such as Zutouh are part of that. You’re used to it at this point, even dealing with clans who would kill you on sight.

“Great party,” you tried to start small talk in hopes to get Icheall-Dua to open up a little more. “What’s it for?” A closed mouth smile was directed towards Icheall-Dua.

Icheall-Dua kept his nonchalant expression plastered to his face. “I’m becoming the clan leader,” he stated as if it was an everyday thing. You tensed up mid sip of your drink, eyes darting over to his marsh green hide.

Well yeah. Zutouh is his father and the clan leader. Yet, each Yautja usually has a bunch of children. You didn’t know Icheall-Dua was next in line to ascend the throne. By Paya’s grace, you truly didn’t stand a chance against any of the females who would flock to him. Clan leader got you lots of perks. A title Icheall-Dua had to have earned out of all of his siblings.

“That’s amazing! Are you excited?” you kept up with the small talk, using questions to get answers from him. You gulped down a mouthful of your drink again as it started to affect your mind and rational thinking. “Of course, a male such as yourself with that physique definitely deserves that position.”

Drunk words were sober thoughts.

Alcohol gave you loose lips.

Zutouh snorted and shook his massive head in disbelief. You didn’t care though. What you said was true. Icheall-Dua was built well, the prodigy everyone saw him as.

One of his upper manibles quirked up for less than a second yet you caught it. “This is my destiny.” His answer short, barely even sweet. You nearly deflated at that but an idea came to him.

“Well, does your destiny have me included in it?” you flirted with him again like all the times before. You hoped he would finally get the big picture you were waving in front of him.

This caught Icheall-Dua off guard. The Yautja nearly choked on his drink you graciously provided for him and snapped his gaze to you. Hope flickered in your eyes as you noticed you had more of his attention on you. His hand tightened on his cup, claws slightly scraping across the glass wear.

Except, it all faded away when he pulled back that nonchalant expression and shrugged again. You could almost scream at him for that. Your nose flared with a snort, lips pressed tightly into a line. The alcohol in your system not helping one bit. A near glare was settled on the stupid marsh colored Yautja who you’ve pinned for the last few months.

Like a volcano, there’s only so much you could hold in.

“For the love of everything unholy, I want to fuck you!” you shouted at the top of your lungs, fire blazing in your veins while you stared this male down. “I’ve been trying for months the Yautja way to get your attention. And-and nothing! You hadn’t acknowledge my attempts or even told me to stop! I don’t know what I can do anymore.”

It all came out. Ranitng out your horrible experience trying to court a Yautja their way. All this research was false, wrong. It led you on for months and left you to feel this angry… in front of a crowd.

Your shoulders heaved with each lungful breath. The crowd around you had gone silence due to your shouting. The realization struck you, dosing you in freezing cold water. Your shoulders tensed up, eyes wide, glued to the spot. Nothing could make you move until Icheall-Dua took a step towards you.

Then, you spun on your tail and darted between humans and Yautja alike, a stumbling, drunk mess. They didn’t part for you, even when you ran into them but when a shadow gave chase, they instantly let him through. Your arm was snatched in a vice grip that would bruise tomorrow. Heat slammed into your chest, forcing you to pressed to his torso. Tears pooled the lips of your eyes as you looked everywhere but him. You couldn’t see the rage of you interrupting his celebration, of you ruining the night with this silly crush.

Your entire jaw was swallowed up by a hand and forcefully tilted your head back. Through blurry tears, you find his blue eyes on you.

“Say that again,” he demanded with a voice he used to lead. You tried to struggle against him, nearly turning your head enough to bite his fingers. Nothing worked to get him off of you. Icheall-Dua easily far stronger in close quarters… yet, you didn’t want to hurt him anyhow.

“Why? So you can embarrass me in front of everyone. Show everyone how much of a fool I was? To think I had a chance with you?” you snarled then paused for a pregnant moment. He squeezed his hand tighter on your jaw in a short warning. Icheall-Dua wasn’t one to be around humans often, he didn’t understand their fragileness. “Should’ve brushed me off the first time I gifted you a skull.”

None of this would be happening if he had.

“And why would I do that? I was following the advice given to me by your fellow humans for your courting rituals.” If he didn’t have such a tight grip, you would’ve jerked your head back. Instead, you raised your brows instead.

He was following dating advice… What had they told him? Also, dating?! Your heart started to thump loudly in your ears, like war drums. He had gone out of his way to ask for advice.

A lump in your throat made it hard to speak. “What, what was the advice?” you questioned and untensed your muscles. The Yautja responded by easing up his grasp on your jaw and wrist. Icheall-Dua didn’t let you go fully though. Not that you could outrun a Yautja in the first place.

His gaze deviated over to a group of humans who were staring the two of you down. Everyone part of the party was. “Samual said to ‘play hard to get’. It get’s people needy.” Oh, you were going to kill Samual when you had the chance. All these months of torture because that dumbass told him horrible advice.

You couldn’t help the breath of relief that escaped your lungs. Then, you began to laugh and shook in his hold. “That’s the worst advice anyone could give you. No, ‘playing hard to get’ is the worst way to show someone you’re into them.” Your laughter died down. “And I thought my research was a fraud when you didn’t react to any of the gifts I gave you.”

Icheall-Dua growled lowly in his chest and spread his mandibles in a display towards the humans. The group jolted and instantly scrambled away to be hidden away in the crowd. With them gone, he returned his attention back on you. “You did well and everything right. I apologize I wasn’t properly conveying my feelings towards you. Will you forgive me?”

All that tension in your shoulders you’ve been holding for months finally fell off. “Yes, yes. I forgive you and whatever stupid advice Samual gave you. I would say to do research but… that has also bad information as well.” His hand on your wrist released you to cup your waist. Goosebumps immediately rose on your arms. A tingle running down your spine.

“And what were you saying early? If my memory serves correct: you want to fuck me?” Oh god, he just had to bring that up! Heat instantly rushed your cheeks.

“That’s-that’s just the alcohol talking. I’m drunk. Had some drinks… I don’t know what you mean,” you did everything in your power to get him off of that.

“Daring little thing,” he mused and ran his thumb claw across your lips. Just a little more pressure and he could slice the feeble skin apart. “Taking more than they can chew.” You knew you had chosen right. He was still going to fuck with you though.

He leaned down so only the next words were spoken directly at you. “Once this party ends, would you like to start the night back in my tent?” he whispered. Your brain blanked. Not a single thought entered your mind for a long, unknown amount of time.

When some of the fog cleared, you rapidly nodded your head, eager. “My naughty little ooman.” He returned to his full towering height and offered his hand to you. “Come along, I know of seat you wouldn’t want to leave.”

Curses filled your head, the only thing to make sense in your fray of mental words to yourself. The things you could do to him.

[kiwriteswords]

HI! May I ask for the drabble prompts: Getting engaged/married?!?! Pretty please? 💜

Hi!! Thank you!!! Hope you enjoy this short drabble!

Drabble Prompts | Other Writing | Ao3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader!

Word Count: 1.6k

Rating: Everyone

TW: engagement, fluff

If every word I said, could make you laugh, I'd talk forever

It wasn’t anything grand. There were no rose petals scattered along the floor, no candlelit dinners at fancy restaurants, and no elaborate speeches rehearsed for weeks. No big romantic gestures that screamed, “Look at us!” No beaches or fancy trips. Aaron had never been one for theatrics, and he knew you weren’t either. Instead, the moment was quiet, simple, and intimate—reflective of the way your relationship had always been.

Aaron understood you better than anyone, knew that your heart didn’t crave the extravagant or the public display. You weren’t someone who wanted a grand proposal in front of a crowd, with cameras snapping and strangers cheering. You didn’t need the sweeping, cinematic gesture that so many people longed for. All you wanted was a moment that belonged solely to the two of you. And Aaron, ever thoughtful, ever in tune with you, had made sure that’s exactly what you got.

The world around you could have been completely still for all you cared. Wrapped in the familiar comfort of your living room, there was no need for anything more than what already existed between you. The dim glow from the lamp in the corner illuminated the room, casting soft shadows along the walls as you sat side by side on the couch. Your favorite blanket was draped over both of you, its warmth only adding to the quiet intimacy of the night. There were no expectations here, no pressure to perform or impress—just the pure, unfiltered connection between you and Aaron.

You didn’t need rose petals when you had the security of his arms around you every night. You didn’t need the formality of a planned-out dinner when the simplest meals shared between you had always held more meaning. No beach or vacation getaway was necessary because life was not something you needed to escape or take a break from with him. And you certainly didn’t need flashy rings or choreographed declarations when Aaron’s love had always spoken for itself, in every look, every touch, every quiet reassurance.

That’s why this moment, the one without the bells and whistles, was perfect. It was yours.

Aaron knew this wasn’t just any proposal—it was a reflection of who you were as individuals and as partners. It was a testament to how your love had grown, grounded in authenticity, built on trust, and shared through the smallest of gestures. It wasn’t meant to be a spectacle, but rather a quiet promise, a forever that didn’t need to be shouted, just softly spoken.

Aaron was certain this was what you would want too. If you were the grand gesture type, he would have put on a show for the world to see. But over the time spent together, he listened in and carefully asked without showing too much of his hand and plans. He still wanted it to be a surprise, afterall.

In this simplicity, there was a beauty that no grand gesture could ever match. Because the love between you didn’t need to be proven with fireworks or over-the-top declarations. It had already been proven, time and time again, in the everyday moments, the ones that truly mattered.

The two of you were sitting on the couch, your legs draped over his lap while a blanket cocooned you both from the chill of the evening. The TV flickered in the background, a rerun of some show you weren’t really paying attention to, too engrossed in the peaceful moment of just being. Aaron’s fingers traced absentminded circles on your ankle, a habit he’d picked up when you’d first told him it helped calm your nerves.

"I’ve been thinking," he started, his voice cutting through the comfortable silence.

You tilted your head to look at him, your eyebrows quirking up with curiosity. "About?"

Aaron smiled that soft, small smile—the one that always made your heart flip because it was reserved for these moments, the ones where it was just the two of you. No cases, no danger, no need to keep his guard up.

"About forever."

His words hung in the air for a second, and your heart skipped a beat. The way he looked at you right then, like you were the most important thing in his world, left no room for doubt.

Before you could respond, Aaron shifted, reaching into his pocket. Your breath caught in your throat when you saw the small velvet box in his hand. He didn’t drop to one knee, didn’t make some rehearsed speech. He just opened it and held it out to you, eyes full of love and certainty.

Oftentimes, when you would imagine this moment happening to you—from as early on as childhood, you thought you might feel a deep pit in your stomach. A sense of panic…uneasiness. But those feelings you could have bet money on years before Aaron being there, were nowhere to be found.

"Will you marry me?"

It wasn’t a question filled with uncertainty, but a promise. You knew Aaron didn’t ask unless he meant it with his whole heart. He wasn’t perfect, but neither were you. Together, though, you’d become something that was.

Your hand trembled as you reached for his, your fingers sliding over his before you nodded, barely able to get the words out through the lump in your throat.

"Yes."

He slipped the ring onto your finger, and you swore you saw his eyes glisten, just for a second, before he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss wasn’t hurried or passionate—it was gentle, steady, the way you imagined a lifetime with Aaron would be.

"Thank you," he whispered against your lips, the words barely audible, as if they were meant to be spoken only in the sacred space between you. His breath was warm against your skin, and as he spoke, you could feel the weight of everything unspoken in those two simple words.

Aaron wasn’t the kind of man to voice his feelings often. He didn’t need to—his actions had always done the talking. From the way he protected you, to the way he made sure you were safe and loved in the quietest ways possible, his love was always there, constant and unwavering. But in this moment, with his lips still brushing against yours, he let his guard down just a little more.

He pulled back, but only just enough so that his forehead rested against yours. It was an intimate gesture, a connection more profound than any words could convey. You could feel his breath mix with yours, his closeness grounding you in a way that nothing else could. This wasn’t just about the proposal—it was about everything that had led up to this point: all the shared moments, the silent battles fought, the laughter, the tears, the love that had slowly, but surely, become the bedrock of your lives.

The warmth of his skin against yours, the soft weight of his forehead pressed gently to yours, spoke volumes. It was as if, in that small act, he was telling you everything he had yet to say: how much you meant to him, how you had brought light into his life in ways he never expected after all the darkness he had seen.

You closed your eyes, savoring the moment, feeling the unspoken emotions swirling in the space between you. "Thank you" wasn’t just gratitude for your answer, for agreeing to spend forever with him. It was deeper than that. He was thanking you for being—for being patient with him, for loving him despite his flaws and the baggage he carried. He was thanking you for bringing joy back into his life, for making him believe in the possibility of happiness again after everything he had endured.

Aaron wasn’t one to easily let others in, not after the pain he’d experienced, not after losing so much. But with you, it had been different. You had quietly slipped into his life, not demanding anything, just offering yourself, your love, your understanding. And now, in this intimate, quiet moment, he was thanking you for all of it—for giving him hope again, for making him believe that there could still be good things waiting for him in the future.

Your hands found his, fingers lacing together, and in that stillness, in the closeness of your foreheads pressed together, you both knew this was it—not just the engagement, not just the promise of marriage, but the deeper promise of always being there for each other, of being a safe harbor in the storms of life, of forever, in the quietest, most meaningful way.

"Thank you," he had said, but what he truly meant was, Thank you for showing me love again.

"For what?" you asked, your voice a bit shaky from the overwhelming emotions. You felt as if you should be thanking him. Thanking him for all he had shown you. Thanking him for loving you so both tenderly and fiercely.

Over your time with Aaron, you knew the idea of marriage could be a touchy subject…one you were okay with never crossing, never moving forward with. You knew everything that happened with him and Hailey. You were okay with not disrupting that side of him that could equate marriage with pain. Yet here you both were, more certain and more comfortable with the idea than ever.

"For making me believe in forever again."

And just like that, in the softest moment, surrounded by nothing but the warmth of his presence and the quiet hum of your love, you found your forever.

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos

[slut4thebroken]

Stuck

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Neil Lewis x stepsis!reader

Summary | You get stuck under your bed and your step brother Neil is the only one home to help get you out.

Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, smut, dubious consent, stepcest?, from behind 😼, bondage technically, humiliation, but like it’s unintentional, Neil is a lil delulu and actually think she wants it…, she kind of does tho…, accidental breeding??, cockwarming i guess, minor wedgie-ing lol, dry humping, grinding, spanking, groping, he’s just a pervert lol, purposefully cheesy, not serious.

Words | 2.4 k

Notes | Yeah… honestly man idek anymore. Also if anyone says this is cringe… I’m just gonna say it’s because it’s /supposed/ to be cringe and not because I wrote it in like less than 3 hours 💀

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

You cursed under your breath and pulled harder, but the fabric wouldn’t budge. All you were trying to do was just reach for something you dropped under the bed. But your sleeve got caught on something and you couldn’t get it out. The fabric wouldn’t tear, it was too tight to just slip over your head, and also you could barely see because of how dark it was under there. 

When you heard him call your name from somewhere in the house, you stiffened. Not now. Please not now. Your door swung open and whatever Neil was starting to say immediately got cut off. 

“What the hell are you doing?” He asked, making you roll your eyes. 

“I was trying to grab something but my fucking sleeve got caught and I can’t get it off.” You spat. You were quickly growing frustrated— you just wanted to get out from under there already. “See if you can reach under and help me.” You started pulling again, using your body weight for more force, but it wouldn’t even budge. “Neil!” If he fucking left-

“Calm down. Jeez.” 

“Just help me already. I’ve been here for like ten minutes.” 

“How am I supposed to fit under your bed?” He scoffed. To be fair, you barely fit under here. But he’s so scrawny there’s no reason that he shouldn’t be able to. 

“Figure it out!” You snapped, making him huff. 

“I’m going to try pulling you.” He said and you sighed. 

“Fuck— fine.” His hands wrapped around your ankles and he pulled, making you wince a little. His grip on your ankles made it hurt when he pulled and your top was digging into you even more. “Stop! Okay just— try something else. That hurts.”

“What hurts?” He released your ankles and you sighed, feeling all of the pressure being released. 

“Mostly my ankles.” 

“Okay… Here, I’ll try this.” His hands settled on your hips, making you stiffen. 

“What are you doing?” You rushed out. 

“I’m helping you… Like you literally just yelled at me to do.” He said, sounding annoyed. He didn’t let you get another protest in before tightening his grip and pulling. You slid out a little, making your sleep shorts ride up your legs. He yanked again and you went out a little farther. 

“I can’t… I can’t get a good grip like this.” He was all but panting from exertion. “Get up on your knees.”

“What?” You choked out. 

“If you want my help then just get on your goddamn knees.” He snapped, making you huff. What if you just stayed here forever? That would be better than being in that humiliating position in front of him. But this was already humiliating enough, so what’s a little more?

You sighed and lifted yourself onto your knees with some difficulty. Once you were steady, he wrapped his arms around your lower stomach and pulled back. The top was still digging into you, but you didn’t care anymore, you just wanted to get out from under here. He yanked you again and when he let out a low groan, you stiffened. It could've been from exertion… right? When he pulled you back again, you finally felt it. 

“Ew! Gross, Neil— what the hell?” You yelled trying to get out of his grip. You’d rather be stuck under the bed. 

“You’re the one…” another pull, this time his hips met you halfway, “who asked for my help.” He panted, doing it again. He only did it once more before holding you still, not letting you crawl forward under the bed as his hips— his fucking hard on— stayed pressed to your ass. 

“Let me go right fucking now or I swear to god,”

“You’ll what? Yell for mom and dad? Yeah that’ll be real helpful while they’re out of town.” Fuck… you forgot about that. He held you still with one arm while the other groped your ass, spreading you open so his bulge could grind against your slit. When he finally let go of your body, you tried to scramble under the bed, but he grabbed your shorts and underwear and yanked them up, hard, making you cry out. The friction and the pressure was making your clit feel like it was on fire and you whimpered as you tried to squirm out of his hold. 

He pulled you back out of the bed again, then yanked up even more. Your knees were almost off the ground and you could feel tears brimming in your eyes from the pain and humiliation. With most of your ass exposed now, he groped it again, digging his nails into the soft flesh until you winced. He suddenly slapped your ass twice in quick succession and you couldn’t even flinch forward to get away from the sting. He switched his grip and did the same to your other ass cheek, letting out a low groan as you squirmed. He pushed his hips into you again, but since you were higher up now, he was grinding against your cunt instead. 

“I bet you’re not even stuck.” He snickered. “Was this all just an excuse to get your step brother to fuck you?” He cooed mockingly. 

“You watch too much fucking porn, Neil.” You spat. “Let me go!” 

“What kind of a brother would I be if I didn’t help my sister out, hm?” He was grinding on you desperately now, practically humping you while holding you up with a wedgie, and you hated the way it made your clit throb— No. It’s just the pressure from your shorts and underwear… yeah.. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of there. We just gotta loosen you up first.” He released you and pulled back, then you heard the sound of his belt, making you scramble forward again. 

“No! Neil— this isn’t funny anymore.” He worked quickly and when his cock was finally free, he grabbed your ankles and used far more force than necessary to pull you back out. He roughly yanked the clothes off your body and put you on your knees again, holding your hips with a bruising grip to keep you from moving. When his cock brushed your slit, you stiffened. “Neil— Neil, wait.” You tried to reach back with your free hand and push him away, but your fingers barely managed to brush against him. 

“Shh… Just let me help you.” He said quietly, lining up with your hole. When he pushed in, your hole body tensed up and a strangled whimper escaped you as he moaned loudly. “Oh fuck… Oh my god— You’re so fucking tight and- and hot… Why is it so hot?” He whined. He kept pushing in until his hips were flush with your ass and you groaned uncomfortably at the pressure on your cervix and the sting of the stretch. “Don’t worry, sis. I’m gonna get you out of there.” He moaned, continuing to babble out senseless words through his sounds of pleasure. 

He slowly dragged his hips back until only the tip was inside, then slammed back in, making you all but scream at the sudden forcefulness of the thrust. He kept that up for a while, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises, sometimes pulling you back to meet him halfway. He suddenly sped up and you choked on a moan, but quickly bit your lip. You didn’t want to do anything to encourage him. 

“Neil, just— just stop, please. I promise I won’t be mad. I won’t tell anyone.” You whined and he landed a hard slap on your ass. 

“You can stop playing hard to get now. It’s getting a little old.” What? How the fuck were you playing hard to get?? “I mean… c’mon. I get being coy when you were wiggling your ass in front of me, but I’m already inside you… You can drop the act now.” 

“It’s not a fucking act, Neil!” He really does watch too much porn. 

“God— just stop whining already. I’m giving you what you wanted.” 

“I don’t fucking want this— I want you to stop!” Despite your words, the arousal pooling in your stomach was unmistakable. 

“Please, just stop talking.” He whined, long and bratty. “I didn’t exactly picture my first time being spent arguing with you.” 

He’s a virgin?? 

Or… he was a virgin?

You shouldn’t be surprised though. His thrusts were frantic and unpracticed, he wasn’t trying to actually have sex, he was just focusing on pounding something until he finally came, like he probably does when he’s alone. Based on his moans and the way his thrusts turned even more erratic, you knew it wouldn’t be much longer. 

He cursed under his breath and groped your ass, keeping his other hand on your hip so you didn’t try to move away again. He slapped you a few times, not as hard as before, and let out a low moan. 

“Fuck yeah…” He groaned, dragging the words out. “Can’t believe it actually moves like that.” He chuckled, spanking you again. When he grabbed you again and pulled your ass cheek to the side, he choked on a moan as his hips stuttered. 

“Holy shit.” He whimpered. “Fuck— you look so good wrapped around my cock.” He was panting now, getting even closer to his orgasm. “And you’re getting it all wet— oh my god…” He whined. There’s no way that was true…… It would make sense though, based on the way that your clit was basically throbbing by now. 

“You like it when your brother fucks you like this?” 

“Fuck you.” You muttered, cheeks heating up when he chuckled. 

“I like it too, don’t worry. The next time you get yourself ‘stuck’ I’ll help you out again.” He chuckled and you could practically see the smug look on his face. “So fucking good… tight and warm… God I just wanna live in your pussy.” He groaned. You tried not to blush at the praise, but when you did anyway, you told yourself it was out of embarrassment. 

“I’m so close.” He said through a breath. “Where do you want it, huh? Should I do a back shot? Or maybe come on this fat fucking ass instead?” He spanked you three times, emphasizing each word. 

“Or…” He trailed off, making your stomach churn. 

“Neil… No.” You warned, making him whine. 

“Why not?” 

“Because I’m not on birth control and I can’t get knocked up by my fucking brother.” You spat. 

“Step brother.” He corrected, making you roll your eyes. 

“Pull out. I’m serious.” You said lowly, getting ready to try and squirm away from him again. 

“Fuck— fine. Fine. I’ll pull out.” He grumbled, clearly unhappy. You were just glad he actually listened to you. 

Your top had ridden up your back a little bit, so he reached under the bed to pull it back down, but kept his grip on it, rather than holding your hips. He bucked into you wildly and you couldn’t hold in the sounds anymore, not with how rough he was being. The top was digging into you painfully in so many places because of how hard he was pulling on it. 

“Your ass looks so fucking hot like this.” He groaned. His hips were smacking against you almost violently with each thrust and, no doubt, your ass was bouncing each time. “Next time I’m gonna see your tits.” 

There’s not going to be a next time. You wanted to say, but you could barely get any sounds out other than moans. 

“C’mon. Almost there…” He was pulling you back by your top on each thrust and you could feel your breasts moving inside the fabric embarrassingly. Wanting this humiliation to be over, you clenched down on his cock and he choked on a moan as his hips stuttered. “Fuck yes… Holy shit.” He breathed, pulling you back even harder. 

“I’m coming…” He whined, getting ready to pull out, but your sleeve finally ripped and now that there was no tension, you practically flew back onto his cock, forcing a strangled whimper out of you as his cock pushed in the farthest it had so far. He let out a loud moan and even though you could feel hot come hitting your walls, you still tried to crawl away from him— maybe only a little come would lower your chances of getting knocked up, compared to if he stayed buried in you until he finished. He whined loudly and bent over you a little, wrapping his arms around you so you couldn’t move as his hips jerked, filling you up.  

His movements slowed and his sounds stopped, then he was panting, hugging you close and keeping you plugged up so his come wouldn’t drip out. But you need to try and get it out right now— Gravity certainly wasn’t helping your situation either. 

“Neil— Neil, let me go. I have to clean this out.” You weren’t sure how much it would do, but you figured doing something would lessen your chance of getting pregnant, rather than doing nothing. 

“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think.” He mumbled, clearly much sleepier than he was a few seconds ago. 

“I don’t care.” You hissed. He sighed and shuffled backwards, keeping your ass pinned to his hips. Once you were out from under the bed, he laid down over you, not letting you get up. “Neil!” 

“Shh.. In a minute. You’re just so warm and tight… don’t wanna leave yet.” He buried his face in your shoulder, getting comfortable. “You smell good.” He took a deep breath through his nose, making you shudder. 

“Okay… You’ve had your fun. Let me go.” You tried to switch tactics— clearly being mean wasn’t doing anything. 

“I know I know… Just a little longer.” Was there even a point now though? You’ll have to get a morning after pill either way… so you might as well just stop fighting him. 

You sighed and closed your eyes. Of course he’s the type to cuddle after sex. He could at least lay with you though… instead of literally on top of you. He let out a quiet breath and you felt his head shift, then he was reaching out to grab your arm so he could examine the sleeve. 

“See? I got you out.” He said proudly, making you roll your eyes with a scoff. 

Taglist (join here)

@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @idkdudsworld @rentaldarling @vivvive @ceruleanrainblues @mrkdvidal1989 @brooklynscherry-z @ohmysatansstuff @aviamulier @d1lf-loverthinqs @butlersluvbot @miyababby @n1ghtw1ngslver @mandowhatnow @baekhyunstruly @nashja @xxorazz @halleysc6met @crunchsworld @cillianscrybaby @babaohhhriley @deceitfuldevout @gentyleman @lorelais-world