#hopefully my hand doesn't disappoint me

[krawdad]

Found my old brush pen. Haven't touched the thing in years. It shockingly isn't dried out and still works great. I keep thinking about it this might be enough to get me doodling again.

[gay-for-the-snz]

Christmas was great! c:

[generalsmemories]

Homecoming

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ synopsis: the general of luofu awaits your return home into his arms

✧ contents: established relationship, fluff, jing yuan's inner monologue about his dear lover

✧ a/n: kicks down door, GUESS WHOSE BACK! I HOPE. this was word vomit so if there's anything wrong or amiss, no there isn't. I wanted to write a lil fluff before going back to my self indulgent fic (and writing for phainon too) im sorry wife i left you alone for MONTHS!! anyway i hope you all just like this fluffy piece where an overthinking jing yuan eagerly awaits your return home <3 this is just mostly jing yuan monologue cause the reader doesn't appear before the end but <3 i hope you enjoy it nonetheless! thank you all for your patience !! hopefully i'll update a bit more from now!

If you were to tap a Xianzhou citizen on the shoulder and ask for their opinion on the dozing general of the Luofu, they would describe him as a wise and benevolent general, a bit too easy-going for his position, a cat lover and an advocate that everyone should have 3 hot meals each day.

They would never describe the general of the Luofu as someone who would openly show his emotions.

And yet, on a seemingly normal sunny afternoon on the Luofu, tucked into a corner of Cloudford in what should be a normal port for any ship carrying cargo from other worlds to dock for the day - stands the general of the Xianzhou Luofu, alone.

It’s a weird sight, the general has nothing to do with cargo transportation - let alone overseeing any new ships coming to dock upon the Luofu for the day unless it was a fellow general or the marshal themselves.

Yet here he was, often times leaning a bit too close to the edge of the dock to scavenge any new ships coming to land in this specific area that’s unoccupied, his free hand that’s not propping his whole body on the railing is busy fiddling around with his phone - he occasionally unlocks it to re-read the message that’s been left open ever since this morning, scrounging for anything new - to see if you’ve edited the message to another location.

But it’s still the same, even after the 7th time he’s read the message.

“There’s a bit more cargo than we expected from the marshal, so instead of landing at the usual dock at Starskiff Haven, we’re going to dock at the northernmost dock in Cloudford. We should arrive before the delegations from Zhuming and Yaoqing, but remember to greet them if they come here before me!”

Jing Yuan let out a long sigh, stuffing his phone back into his pocket before looking around the dock. It’s hardly an appropiate place to greet you back, surrounded by boxes upon boxes of either different furniture or weapons for the Cloud Knights - maybe even some souvenirs from the various traders that have settled in Luofu.

You should be greeted by the vast open sky that you’ve loved to see in Luofu each morning when you wake up by his side, watch the various starskiffs soar in the sky while the wind graces you with the various leaves adorned throughout the Luofu - all while glancing back at him with the same gentle smile you’ve greeted him for the past hundred years.

The ever so aloof general lets out a sigh, bringing a hand up to run through his more than usual messy bangs to keep his mind away from the thoughts of you, “You would’ve nagged me for letting my hair become even more unruly if you saw me now…”

It did not work at all.

Maybe he can convince Qingzu to arrange a specific port in Cloudford just for you, but that would only make both you and her regard him with disappointment at where he puts the resources of Luofu at - although he can see the glint of affection that crosses your eyes whenever he jokingly suggests building your entire private port so that you’re not mobbed by the citizens each time you come back from your own delegations.

Jing Yuan takes one more glance towards the phone he had just pocketed, how can that it’s only been 2 mere minutes after he last checked? He swears it must’ve been a system hour at least since he’s arrived at the dock.

Maybe something had happened, you’re usually on time after all. Is the traffic to enter Luofu bigger than the usual? Granted the Wardance was just announced and a lot of people from all over have come to finally step foot into Luofu again after the stellaron incident. But you usually predicted this and would arrive even earlier to be on time. Maybe he should contact Yukong and see if there’s any-

His racing mind comes to a screeching halt when he hears the familiar roar of the starskiff engine turn to a mere hum near him - the sound much closer than the starskiffs flying above him.

For some reason, he did not dare look up - Of course the northernmost dock wasn’t just meant for your ship to land, numerous others had already landed here before. Aeons above, he had greeted another cargo ship who were pleasantly surprised to see his appearance when he had first entered the area after all.

Jing Yuan could feel his palms sweat the tiniest bit, and suddenly he was actuely aware that he kept bouncing back and forth on his heels - something he even thought to himself was unknown behaviour from him. He had after all, never been this giddy or nervous to meet someone at all.

But then again, ever since you’ve arrived in his life - he’s shown sides of himself he didn’t know was there at all.

Oh dear, I’ve sure been spoiled by them.

Before he can derail even more into his thoughts, his downcast gaze is suddenly locked with your own curious ones, a raised eyebrow and lips jutting out a tiny bit in concern.

And suddenly, Jing Yuan feels his entire body relax, his tense shoulders finally slack and he exals deeply - which in turn makes you even more confused. “Jing Yuan? What are you even doing out- woah!”

You’re not able to even finish your question before your lover lifts you up with seemingly no effort, a gleeful smile paints his lips and his eyes crinkle the tiniest bit at the corners. The sudden upwards movement makes you yelp a tiny bit, immediately putting your hands on his shoulders in reflex while a light dust of red covers your cheek at the display of affection, “Jing-!”

But you can already tell he’s not listening to you at all, gently setting you down on the ground again before his arms wrap around your lower waist, fingers pressing against your lower back to press your body further into his own - completey ignoring the snickering Cloud Knights behind the two of you who have become used to the general display of affection towards you.

“… How was your trip, dear?” he finally asks, resting his forehead against yours for a brief second to let you breathe. You let out a sigh in return, raising your arm to place a hand on his cheek - Jing Yuan immediately leaning against it before turning his head to peck your palm, “You already know how it’s been, no? I’ve sent you updates each morning and night after all.”

Jing Yuan merely hums, gliding his lips down towards your wrists before he leans his body closer to your own to nuzzle his face into your neck, inhaling softly, “Dear, you know I appreciate hearing about your day rather than reading a bunch of text.”

The little laugh you let out makes Jing Yuan let out a little giggle himself, but you feel his hold tighten around you when you try to squirm away from him, “Now, now - I haven’t seen you for months now, beloved. Don’t try to run away now.”

“Jing Yuan if you haven’t noticed we are still in public-” you try to reason, but your lover doesn’t listen, reduced to a mere overgrown cat in your presence as he tries to get even closer to your own body - there’s barely any room between your for air to even pass between the two of you.

You raise an eyebrow in confusion, gripping the arms around your waist to at least make him lessen the grip he has on you, "Jing Yuan, at least let me-"

“I missed you,” he finally whispers silently, and all your previous squirming comes to a halt when you feel the slight tremble in his voice. And it’s only when you register that tremble do you realize that his hands that are splayed by your neck to keep you in place are shaking ever so slightly, “… More than I thought I would.” he confesses, to your ears only.

You let out a light huff, finally wrapping your arms around his shoulders and threading your hand into his hair so you can tuck his face further into your neck, leaning your cheek against his hair, “I’m home, Jing Yuan.” you confirm, turning your head to peck the top of his head once.

Like he understood your request immediately, Jing Yuan leans back to face you once again, a slight guilty look on his features for subjecting you to a situation he knows you deem a bit uncomfortable. But the smile you give him relieves him of his troubling thoughts. You shake your head silently, a quiet answer to his equally silent apology before you cradle both his cheeks in your hands to keep him in place before slotting your lips over his own. He lets out a small sigh into your mouth, pressing his lips firmly against your own before parting slightly, the gentle, easy-going smile you're used to seeing back on his lips. “Welcome home, my dear.”

[yojeongin]

It’s my desire to give myself to you | p.js

→childhood friend!jisung x f!reader

genre: smut, romance, 80s au, childhood friends au, lost communication, open ended

synopsis: being the youngest in all friend groups has always proven to be beneficial for jisung but he’s no longer that little boy you met years ago. so why won’t you look at him for what he truly is: a man. he’ll have to prove it to you then.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! obsessive and whiney jisung, oral (f receiving), pussy drunk jisung, vaginal fingering, implied age gap although it’s not significant, public indecency, unprotected sex, bratty jisung, praise kink, bulge kink, begging, creampie, virginity loss (virgin jisung), alcohol consumption, infantilization mentions, overbearing mother.

wc: 11.6k+ || soundtrack || ao3

© 2024 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other social media’s. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated and preferred!

an: happy end of the year fic, I’d consider this an accomplishment (writing 3 fics in one year lol)

Summers began to be the best thing for Jisung starting at the age of nine. He might have gone to summer camp reluctantly at first, not wanting to join his older brother. He had enough of seeing him all the time at school and home so why did his parents think it was fine to take away his precious summers of pretending to be an only child? It was a rough start, that’s for sure; but being taken under the wing of older kids served to be more fun.

Up until the age of sixteen he lived in bliss waiting for the day summer break to begin and be back where he felt free from the watchful eyes of his parents, only seeing them twice a month for visitations. As for his brother? He had his own life to run and the two barely bumped into each other which was a blessing in disguise for him. His bags were always packed weeks prior to the departing date and when his mother started to ask if he truly wanted to go –for she has been missing him terribly due to their increasing mommy-son dates– Jisung didn’t hesitate on turning her down. Summer camp is all he looked forward to, the only thing he put effort into school for.

Nowadays the only yearly highlight comes in Winter for the holidays in the form of season greetings cards. He’s learnt to conform. “You get what you get and you don’t complain.” Is what he told himself often and that’s all the fight he has left in him the faster the years pass by.

“No mail for me?” Jisung asks with that same pleading whine laced onto his voice upon entering his parent’s home. Leaning down to kiss his mother’s cheek while she shuffles through the mail. She hums, elongating her words while flipping through the envelopes of bills and season greetings. Hoping her hesitance would cement the feeling of disappointment onto her son once more. “Well, it doesn't seem so… Oh! No. Here you go.” His mom utters with a slight smile, cruel as it is. “Took them longer to send this year. Thought the Y/l/n girl was going to fully desert you this year.” She quips balefully. Jisung gives her a quick glance before looking at the picture.

This is the most he sees and hears from you nowadays and it has become unsatisfactory. He wonders where things went wrong more often than he wants to. When he wakes up he thinks about it. When he brushes his teeth and showers he thinks about it. He’s burnt his hand thinking about why your letters minimize little by little every year and it so happens to be that this year he only received a happy birthday letter leaving him in the dark for the following ten months until today. If you can call it that, all the card says is: “May the beauty of the Holidays bless your home with happiness.” Signed off in golden glitter: The Y/l/n Family. No hand written note on your part, no acknowledgement at all. He’s sure your mother only sent it as his address hasn’t been erased from their address book. Otherwise, he’s not sure if his –hopefully– mother-in-law knows or remembers who he is.

“She’s been busy.” Jisung defends in a murmur, turning on his heel to walk upstairs to his room. “She told you that?” His mother yells back sardonically once he turns the corner. He ignores her but the glimmer of her pearly whites blind him through his peripheral view. A reminder that he can try to ignore reality but his mother will always be there to remind him. She wouldn’t understand it. She won’t understand when all she sees is that little nine year old coming back from camp excitedly telling her about the friends he made and the pretty girl he wouldn’t stop talking about.

Or the ten year old that was so ecstatic to come back and ask her for her pretty paper to write a letter to that same pretty girl that finally hugged him and gave him her address to write letters to. She took his too and put it in her ‘important things’ box. Jisung saw you do it.

But Jisung is twenty-two now and lives off of the crumbs he gets to devour whenever he rereads every single letter you’ve sent him. His favorite ones are the birthday letters when you send him pictures of yourself with cakes you’ve baked for him even if he couldn’t eat them. He’s content knowing you cared for him that much. He clings to hope more when this year the cake looked even prettier but not as pretty as you in the multiple pictures sent.

He doesn’t entirely care if you only sent one this year or that you did not reply to his own birthday letter for you. He’s glad that you still cared enough to bake him his cake and let him see how much prettier you’ve gotten. One of those pictures is in his wallet at the moment.

It’s insane, no? To fall so head over heels for someone that has never been his. Jisung has known you for over ten years but nothing has progressed past embraces, friendly hand holding, and constant cheek pinches because you found him awfully cute. He still feels your touches linger despite lastly seeing you in person at sixteen.

Longing is the word he’s looking for. Longing and yearning is all he’s done since that last time he saw you and it becomes worse through the years with little to no communication. He wonders if you’re truly that busy to not spare him a few minutes to write back. Or if you’ve found someone that has prohibited you from contacting him further.

He foolishly expected a letter for his college graduation the way you sent him one for his high school graduation but it never came. He’s kept in contact with his other summer camp friends but they’re no good with information regarding you. Most but one left in the dark about your whereabouts. The last he heard from Jaemin, you had gotten a job and as vague as it is, that’s all he told Jisung.

Useless but also valuable. He envies Jaemin sometimes. He was the only one able to get far more closer to you and he doesn’t fully know how to feel about it. While you spent treating Jisung like a child, like a younger brother, things were always complicated between you and Jaemin. Vague as he is, to be specific.

All he can do now is lay on his bed with a cassette he bought precisely because you recommended it. He doesn’t like it but he does like you so he will endure. Endure like he’s done with anything regarding his yearning for you.

With your deliciously perfumed letters, fountain ink stains all over the pages, and images of you scattered across his bed with the music full blast on his walkman— Jisung revels in the pleasure of your indirect touch. Your fingerprints embedded on the paper and their oils seeping into his own skin the way they did years ago with every single one of your touches. He wished those touches were far more than playful and cuteness aggression. That the times your fingers lingered were because you wanted him as near as he wanted you. But once again, he will conform.

Conform, conform, conform.

In his state, Jisung doesn’t hear his mother’s covert steps when he twirls on the bed with images of you laying on his face. And he surely doesn’t hear her when she cracks the door open to spot his hands lingering on his thighs, memories of the time Hyuck and Chenle snuck alcohol on the grounds and all of you had a ball with it. He remembers your hands vividly on his short-clad thighs, giving them gentle squeezes as you chewed his ear off. He remembers the names Ralph Machio and James Spader spewing from your lips here and there. He wanted to shut them up with his, consumed by jealousy but also wonder how they’d feel against his.

Of course he didn’t, the alcohol made things seem funnier than they were and he wouldn’t overstep. Not when he knew his role in the group was to be cute and be taken care of. That’s how you liked him most, he noticed.

And when he twists again to fight off the temptation of letting his fingers crawl to the hem of his pants, a face he’s known all his life is looking at him directly. Startling more when frustrated. “Park Jisung!” leaves her lips, sending his body into a shocking jolt and his walkman flying across the room. His body crushed the photographs he was admiring, much to her delight.

“Mom!” Jisung whines, holding onto his dangerously fast palpating heart. He huffs and pants, attempting to relax himself before dropping another word. “What?” He aims to say calmly but she’s far from that. Her hands on her hips and a stern look around his bed transmits her disappointment, disgust, and anger.

“I read your grandmother’s letter and it turns out she will be spending the remainder of the month with us after all.” Silent scoff, as if this was the most absurd thing. “Take a run to the mall and get her a gift. I didn’t count on her even contacting us.” Well, that explains her foul mood. It’s made worse when all he musters is a nod but doesn’t make an effort to stand up. God, how she would love to pull him by those raven locks or his ear. Whatever gets the message through.

“Well hurry!” That’s all she can muster.

So Jisung does, collecting everything he can and shoving it into a locked box while his mom turns to walk out the door. Embarrassed is all he feels besides shaken up from the scare he gained.

“Don’t forget your gloves and scarf. Don’t want you to catch another cold.” She mutters while mixing whatever she was cooking. It smelled fine but he knew her food became dangerous when cooking upset. It had a life of its own. He hums as a reply, wanting to leave it at that. “Jisung.” She calls again, calmly this time, turning halfway to look at him.

“Forgetting something?”

He shakes his head, bundled up under all warm clothing.

“Sure?”

He nods and she huffs, walking towards him. She kisses his cheeks and the tip of his nose, cupping his face. That reminds him, manifested in a sigh and a smile that he leans down to kiss his mother’s cheek.

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

His bid farewell always leaves him upset. He’s twenty-two, why does she still treat him like he was three? Just yesterday his brother couldn’t stop pinching his cheek after buying him a crepe. Continuing to compare him to a cute little hamster despite Jisung having surpassed him in height.

Three weeks ago when he met with Jaemin to talk about you, the words ‘cute’ and ‘adorable’ would not stop spewing from his lips the way bile does. With the exception that Jaemin welcomed these in comparison. Mark, similarly enough, always clutches his face with restraint from crushing his skull and then engulfs him with a bone crushing hug that leaves him aching for minutes to pass.

He thinks Jeno is the only one with sense that treats him his age, yet he’s caught him other times babying him at the arcade. Especially when a stranger playing against Jisung wants to get quippy and there he becomes that eleven year old that Jeno and Hyuck had to defend from some idiots that had just watched Star Wars and felt inclined to the dark side.

Jisung decided to take the car, it was getting colder and he felt the remnants of snowflakes begin to fall even if they could only be seen under a microscope but he was sure of it. He contemplated walking in hopes of ailing himself to disturb his mother’s sanity but proved futile knowing she’d hover over him 24/7 until betterment. Therefore, his sanity would be the one disturbed.

For such a busy season, the streets looked empty and the mall itself wasn’t entirely full besides the movie theatre parking lot. Their billboard lights blinding him the longer he stares to see which movie seemed fun. He should at least get some enjoyment out of this. He can decide later. RIght now he has to pick up something he thinks a geriatric angry woman would like.

Let’s see… She likes disgustingly small yappy dogs like chihuahuas— as angry as her. She likes cats as sick as her… some yarn and new patterns should be a good gift. She doesn’t like those.

Decidedly, Jisung will take a stroll towards the end of the mall. Taking his sweet time to enjoy the scenery of the water fountain. He truly does like the mosaic. The flamingo pink tiles crawl up into a gradient of green tiles that surround the mouth where water spurts out. In better times, it shines under the sun. Right now, not so much.

He doesn’t leave before throwing in five pennies. Five for his birthday and five for safe measure that his wishes are secured. He always wishes for the same two things. Three to hear from you and two to beat Jeno’s centipede high score.

Jisung smiles and nods to himself, walking past the fountain, some water spraying on him. He doesn’t mind, he’ll take it as a sign that one of the two is to be granted soon.

Halfway through a cinnamon sugar pretzel after nearly choking from its dryness, Jisung decides to touch his heart and not gift his grandmother something she doesn’t like despite her being such a vile woman. Instead he should give her something that she won’t ever be able to lift and only admire which leads him to Sur la Table on the east wing of the mall. He grumbles and huffs annoyedly at the walk but he knows it’ll be worth it. Hell, maybe he’ll steal it for himself when she goes senile.

The only thing that he appreciates about this wing is the warm yellow lights from French and Italian wannabe restaurants that aim to attract hungry consumers and cooks. He enjoys the set up at Sur la Table, mainly because he gets to play with their faux kitchen setups and the shock on people’s faces when they overpay for these cookware items. Fooled into consumption from their fabricated experience.

He plays with some of the display pots and pans, twisting knobs and reading tags to see how pretentious he’ll feel after learning about Swedish enamel. He doesn’t know how much that matters —if it's a cash grab— but it sounds fancy. Before him, he prepares some plates. A nice hearty bowl of Caldo de Gallego. Jisung doesn’t know nor understands what it is but he remembers hearing it while flipping through the channels when his father got cable. A monumental moment for him.

“No dessert?”

And just like when his mother scared him shitless back in the privacy of his own room. A familiar voice snapped him out of his public exposition daze.

He goes through the same motions he went through back home. Clutching his harshly palpitating heart, panting and huffing to regain his composure, and feeling embarrassment. If he went through this once more today, he’ll definitely faint for good.

It’s far more embarrassing this time around. He took advantage that the store was nearly empty and no one came to this side of the store but he was proven wrong. Worse yet, the person that scared him was waiting for an answer.

Jisung still feels and hears his heart blaring in his ears but he tries to act cool. Only to fail when his knees buck once he registers the face that’s been accompanying him for the past ten months in his wallet. Albeit something was different. The length and color of your hair that’s for sure.

“Don’t be a stranger, come on.” Your voice is as sweet as he recalls.

Fuck, how he missed it…

Your arms extend to him, pleading for his embrace. Jisung doesn’t hesitate to give you what you want— as always. Swaddling you with his long limbs and making sure you can’t let go until he is done savoring this moment. He’s truly craved this for as long as he can remember.

A soft giggle works to ease his grip, letting you go with a nervous chuckle of his own. “Sorry.” He speaks, shyly covering his mouth with a sleeve covered hand. The apology not only yours to receive but himself as well for reacting like the little boy he was when you met; for the miniscule regression. He takes in your light head shake but tender smile. It’s a different scene from when he last saw you. There’s an obvious distance that he does not like.

“How have you been? You’ve grown so much!” Instinctively, your hands reach for his face, cradling it while attempting to restrain yourself from pinching his cheeks. You’ve already overstepped by touching him. Instead you give him an awkward giggle and the following words. “What happened to my little Jisungie? You’re even taller than last time.” Jisung can sense your desire to grab him and handle him like you used to but for some reason you’re holding back.

‘Please, please don’t deny me this. Touch me, hug me, pinch me… Just please touch me…’ Jisung wants to blurt out. He’s been starving for years and he finally has you before him, so why won’t you feed him? Don’t be so gluttonous, please…

Jisung won’t voice any of it, he opts to nod with that same gummy smile that you love. “Growth spurt, stuff like that.” He attempts to sound nonchalant but he’s so giddy that he can’t contain himself. You read him like a book.

“So, uh… What are you doing here? I never thought I’d see you in my town.” He questions, scratching his head. You’ve always been a good eight hours away from him, meeting him halfway for camp. Six if you count Chenle’s birthday party in ‘81 in which his parents paid for everyone’s transportation.

Your hesitance doesn’t go unnoticed by him but he wont prod. He’s content with having you near, he thinks so. He’ll be sure to start throwing quarters into the fountain for granting him this wish at least.

“Work actually,” You hum, body swaying while you nod. “Oh, right! Jaemin mentioned you got a job, congrats!” He celebrated with genuine happiness but the inkling of curiosity never left him.

‘Please talk to me. Please say more, I crave your voice. Please, I’m too malnourished, can’t you see?

“Did he?”

“That was about it. You know how vague he can be.”

You hum and nod again. This awkward cycle frustrating and hurting him.

Jisung has not spent the past six years missing you for this encounter to be short lived. He’s aware six years was a long time ago and he’s definitely lost contact with other friends but they’ve never mattered the way you do and there’s no way he’s going to waste this opportunity.

“Hey, why don’t we catch up, yeah?” He clutches his arm, swinging a bit and lips puckering before pressing them tightly amongst each other. Your immediate reluctance is easily spotted and it only makes him ache more. He’s not sure what has elicited this behavior but whatever it is, he’ll kick himself over it when you’re not around.

“I don’t know, Ji… I have a report to work on.” You avoid his gaze, knowing that the second you see his pleading eyes you’ll cave in. He knows that too and he knows that if he makes his voice a tad bit squeaky, you’ll begin to crack. You always do.

“Y/n-ie, please…” He tilts his head, crouching to meet your gaze. His big round eyes glistening either from the lights, his own natural charm, or the tears that will spill if you pay him no mind. He doesn’t mean to pout but when his lower lip involuntarily juts out you let out a defeated noise through your teeth followed by grabbing his cheeks and stroking them softly, uttering a “Fine, fine!” to satiate his nerves and your own craving of touching his face like you once did.

His grandma can wait, it’s not like she’ll even use the cookware set any time soon.

“What were you even doing back there?” You break the silence, both walking towards the exit. Without you looking, he tosses a quarter out of gratitude into the fountain when passing by. He swears he can see the tiles gleam and let out satisfied clinks. They’re just as thankful.

With a hand to the back of his neck, he laughs softly. Head turning to you with excuses in mind yet he opts to tell the truth. “I like to pretend it’s my own kitchen whenever I go in there.” He laughs embarrassedly to which he is received with a silent ‘cute’ and observing look.

He’s glad he distracted you but it also feels like a backhanded compliment. Adorable. RIght, that’s what you still think of him.

“By the way. Do you mind grabbing a drink instead? Not a huge fan of coffee… Unless you want to of course.” Jisung suggests, putting his gloves on once both reach outside. He notices your lack of scarf and undoes his while you contemplate an answer. Halting your train of thought when he wraps it around you which ends up making you blurt out a “Sounds good!” in return.

It’s no surprise that the car ride was full of silence but at least the radio muffled your thoughts and hopefully his own if he had any regarding the atmosphere. There was a part of him that grew resentful and hurt with the lack of conversation but the greater part was ecstatic to have you so near. This is what he’s dreamt and wished for for years and he finally has it. He does not plan on wasting any millisecond of both your times.

Jisung wasn’t an avid drinker and did not know much about alcohol besides what his friends have shown him. His parents didn’t drink and his grandmother would shove a can of miller high life onto his hand if he ever spoke more than his usual five sentences. The way parents shove a bottle into a crying baby’s mouth to put it to rest. Why did he request a drink instead, though? Simply to gain some courage. Lord knows he’ll need it if things keep going the way they’ve been.

The place he took you to wasn’t that different from the ones you’ve been to during your college days. With ugly stained yellow walls, dart boards and old decorations hanging on them. Wooden columns covered in thick layers of resin as were the counters and tables. Grumpy beer-bellied bar tenders arguing over the football game playing on screen right now with already drunk customers. Yeah, not ideal for a first date but the only bar he knew. The only piece worth being valuable a signed poster of James Hunt.

What the hell was James Hunt doing in this fuck ass town?

He let you go in first upon finding a booth hidden in the back of the bar. Far more darker and cozier at this end. Perhaps due to the lack of distance he kept between you two when he himself slid in, his arm instinctively resting on the backrest of the booth around your head. The need to simply wrap it around your shoulders killing him.

“Pretty cold out there, right?” Jisung began, removing his gloves and jacket, shoving ghe former in the pockets. You didn’t turn to him, responding with a hum as you remove the scarf. He frowns at this, slumping against the backrest, watching you look through the standee with all drink names.

“What are you ordering, Jisung?” He hadn’t thought about it, more immersed in hearing your voice. Either Way he didn’t know a single brand of alcohol, ‘Lite’ the only word in relevance to alcohol that he knew. “You choose, I’m fine with whatever.” He diverts, leaning closer to you to read the alcohol options.

Though, as if you could read minds, you turn to look at him. A soft smile with narrowed eyes focusing on him. “Are you sure you want to drink? We can get something else, I don’t mind.” You suggest, expression relaxing now seeing how easily he reacted.

“Yes! I mean no! No, I would really like a drink, unless you want something else.” Jisung tumbled through his words. The bashful look on his face raises your lack of restraint in grabbing and handling him the way you’ve done so many years ago. Oh how truly adorable he remains. Although, he’s gotten quite handsome. Too handsome for his own good.

“Okay,” You nod, fingers ghosting over his cheek to reassure him– never touching, just yet.

Raising your hand to call a bartender over, one of the two begrudgingly stroll to your table. Tossing a worn out and smelly towel over his shoulder, he gives both of you a look as if to hurry up and order. With reluctance and indignance, you scoff. “Two blackberry smashes. Whiskey in both.”

“We ain’t got that stuff here.” His mannerisms were comical and absurd. As if he was angry that a request was made but also so nonchalant, so careless for your presence. More interested in going back to his game.

“Fine, two pints of your house beers, tap and two shots of your cheapest tequila. ” Jisung thinks your voice now matches the arrogance and annoyance of the bartender. He sort of likes it, it reminds him of the times you yourself had defended him against snobs at camp.

The balding bartender grunts as a response, sounding like an okay before leaving. “Swear, it’s like he's being held at gunpoint to work here, Jesus.” You shake your head, attitude dropping when you notice his reddened cheeks. Curse him and his presentable fondness. “Oh I’m sorry, Ji. Was I being mean?” Your body turns to him, hand clutching his out of habit. Jisung smiles at the contact, looking at it briefly before looking at you. “No, you were perfect.” He utters, reveling in your touch.

You smile at him, embarrassed. Something that he takes with pride. “You never told me what you were cooking up in that kitchen, you know.” You aim to divert the focus. He chuckles at it, “Caldo de Callo. I heard it on TV, I think the host said it was a Spanish dish. Never had Spanish food.” He sounded so proud yet clueless at the same time. Though, you tilt your head, lips parting and closing the further your eyebrows furrow. He hears you hum and finally ask, “Do you mean Caldo Gallego?”

Jisung can see you stifle a laugh when his face begins to feel insanely hot, scorching even. Embarrassment written all over his face that he has to bury them in his sleeve-covered hands, groaning into them about how stupid he sounded. If only he knew that what he originally said translated to ‘callous soup’.

Endearing is the word you’d call it though. Endearing he is with his crescent shaped eyes and shamed pout. Endearing are the whines and groans he lets out when you can’t seize your giggles. He thinks about telling you to stop but doesn’t, your noises far more prettier and enjoyable even if at the expense of his misery.

“It’s okay, Jisungie.” You elongate his name, “It sounds similar, don’t fret too much!” You giggle, petting his hair as one does a child trying to comfort them. He enjoys your touch but doesn’t enjoy the slight patronizing tone to your voice. He’s not sure if he can call it patronizing because he’s aware there’s no malice intent behind your words but it did sound condescending in the way those speak to their juniors and he was tired of you treating him like one the longer the night progressed.

Jisung huffs, sighing when his head touches the table. He turns to look at you momentarily, distracted when your drinks arrive. He hears a few forced thank you’s and sarcastic my pleasures. Your feud with the bartender is amusing but not for this time. Right now he wants to focus on this sentiment brewing in his chest.

He gives you one last glance before reaching for the shot glasses. “To seeing each other again?” Such a simple question that made you hum pensively. You don’t deny it, clinkling your glasses together before dowing the burning liquor. With the taste of battery acid buring your throat, Jisung on the other hand clutches his throat, spitting it out onto a bundle of napkins.

You find him so agonizingly cute that your hands begin to ache to touch him and squeeze the life out of him. How adorable can someone be?! “Oh Jisungie… Tequila isn’t for everyone.” You tut, shaking your head. “Perhaps I should order you some apple juice to soothe that, yeah?”

Your giggle makes his ears ring, that same gnawing feeling that you're mocking him consuming him. He knows you’re not doing it on purpose. That you truly care for his wellbeing but is he truly that easy to perceive as naive and childish that you won’t see him as more? Sure, he didn’t like the tequila but so what? It was their cheapest one. If it had been a bit more expensive, then he’s sure he would have drank it as easy as you. He’s not a kid, why won’t you see that?

Jisung doesn’t voice it though, sighing while redirecting the conversation. “Were you doing some last minute shopping back at the mall?” He questions, obvious discontent and melancholy in his voice. You let it be, nodding as a response before shaking your head when you register the question. Too enthralled with how pretty he looks like this. Face flushed from the alcohol and embarrassment. So cute, so adorable, so perfect. Your Jisungie.

“No, no, actually I went with intentions to watch a movie but the cinema won’t play the movie I wanted to watch so I was on my way out when I saw you through the window doing your little thing.” Your giggle sends him into orbit. He feels lightheaded. Your words weren’t laced with judgment but fondness, he’s thankful for it this time.

“What movie?” Jisung attempts to act as if you didn’t affect him.

“Uh…” Your hesitance piques his interest. “Sex, Lies, and Videotape.” Well it seems that it’s you who is embarrassed now. He takes it, smiling to himself. “Gee, I wonder why they wouldn’t screen this at a regular movie theater.” He giggles, wiping the corner of his mouth when he feels some leftover alcohol residing there.

“Okay now, I had just gotten out of a meeting. My brain was not fully cooperating.” He giggles some more, his teeth now clutching his sleeve. “Honestly, why would a movie like that interest you?” You smile at him, the rim of your beer glass pressing against your lips. “James Spader.”

Jisung rolls his eyes, a scoff leaving his lips while he himself takes a sip of his beer. It’s unrefined and messy. The way the lager alcohol slips down the corner of his mouth and slicks his lips when he places it down. You watch it all through the window of your own, taking slow sips to admire his silent tantrum. He’s never been fond of James Spader. Or any other man you’ve mentioned.

“He’s not all that, you know.” Jisung mutters with a pout, leaning against the backrest. You don’t laugh like you intended. You simply acknowledge him through the handkerchief you pull out of your pocket to softly wipe the residue of beer before it becomes sticky on his skin. He can taste the flavor of your black cherry lip gloss when you swipe it over his lips.

Such an intimate moment prompts him to take a grasp of your free hand, playing with your fingers like he’s done before. “Oh please. He’s the perfect blend of sensible and… manly.” Jisung can only guess you’re thinking of James Spader with the way you bite your lower lip and narrow your eyes. A lustful sigh escapes your nostrils which serves as confirmation to his inquiry.

Seemed like a bunch of bullshit, if you were to ask Jisung what he thought. If you wanted those qualities then why didn’t you realize how perfect Jisung was? Maybe he’s being a little self absorbed or malleable to your desires but so what? He’ll do anything to make you look at him.

Furrowing his eyebrows, dropping your hand and pointing at his chest, Jisung spoke. “I’m sensible and manly!” It sounded more whiny than he expected which would prove to throw off whatever result he wished for. Of course it would, your laugh seems to provide an answer to such.

“I don’t know about the latter…” Your hum upsets him more.

“I am!”

“I don’t know. Just look at how cute you look pouting like that…”

Jisung huffs, upset at your continuous dismissiveness. Must you always remind him of his inferiority? What must he do if you won’t see that he’s a grown man now?

“I am, I’ll prove it to you.” His tone must have sounded significantly bratty that you receive it with patronization. Sarcastically telling him to prove it then if he was so manly.

So he did. He did in the way his large hands cradled your face, warming up your cheeks although that might be from the immediate heat his actions spurred. He proves it through his stealthy moves, bringing his face closer to yours in which he allows his lips to ghost over yours for milliseconds before finally connecting them.

Shocked is what you would describe this feeling clinging onto your chest. Never in a million years would you have thought about kissing Jisung. Sure, you’ve kissed his cheeks and forehead in the past, but that’s what friends do with someone they find adorable and innately drawn to. Jisung has always been hard to avoid, even if you wanted to, one look in those glistening round eyes and you’d submit to his every wish. Everyone does.

His lips moved with inexperience, soft and slow but uncoordinated with no idea where to go from there. His internal debates made obvious when he would part his lips for a second before going back to what seemed like peppered pecks. The way dolphins kiss. You wonder if this is his first kiss or how he kisses overall. If so, you’re only sorry that it’s so miserable.

Jisung eventually determines that he should stop. Either from shame at how uneventful it was or, well, simply because it was uneventful. Rather you two stare at each other for what felt like ages. His confidence is dying down along with your shock. By now both reverting back to your usual personas which meant that he shyly tried to look around without breaking eye contact and you, sternly looking at him without blinking much in order to gain answers.

He sighs knowing this was a lost cause. Rubbing the back of his neck, his body shifts to face you more than before. “Why haven’t you sent me any letters? Why are you ignoring me, Y/n?...” Jisung hates how easy it is for him to transmit his emotions onto his voice. While he hates to sound whiny, he would prefer that over the hurt that enveloped every single syllable he’s spewed out. What he hates more is that he’s not able to shut his mouth. “You have my home number, you have my address. Why haven’t you replied to my letters?”

“Jisung…”

“No! Please tell me.” God, how he hates how dismissive you can be, “I’ve been waiting for you for years. Please give me something, anything.”

Jisung’s face contorts the longer he begs, his lips reddening and puffing more than normal. His cheeks are ravished by that harsh crimson that warms them, borderline scorching. His voice, now a mixture of hurt but whiney that makes you shift at how uncomfortable you are that it spurred something in your chest, now traveling down to your abdomen. You really want to slap yourself for this.

Your Jisungie. Your sweet Jisungie, you idiot!

“I’m sorry, Ji. I was busy with my discretion and didn’t have time for anything. Then I graduated and it was a bloodbath to even get a job right out of college. I mean, I almost threw myself to the sharks and contemplated going to a convent. Can you imagine? All my hard work wasted. Then this year…”

Almost like a child that should have not spoken, Jisung raises an eyebrow when you reach for your beer glass, using it as a shield to make you stop talking. He grew increasingly irritated by your silence. “This year what, Y/n?!”

He’s never spoken to you like this which raises concerns with how you don’t mind it. In fact, you surprisingly invite it, although in minimal quantities. Seeing as there was no way out of it, you sigh, shoulders slumping. “Then this year I saw your mom at the film store around Easter. We were both picking up pictures and we talked for a bit until I asked about you and she said that you had a girlfriend. That I should probably be conscious that not all girls are comfortable with their boyfriend being so close to other girls. That she wouldn’t take kindly to seeing me send you letters so often, let alone pictures…”

Jisung has never been angry at his mother. Sure, irritated and hurt. But never angry, which seems to be a feeling he never thought he’d harbor for the woman that has given him life and all the love a child deserves. He knew his mom wasn’t too keen on his infatuation on you, he’s not sure if it’s for the difference in age or weary of someone she hasn’t fully met besides a few encounters on drop-off and pick-up day at camp.

He always imagined that she would come around once she truly met you, so why was she trying to sabotage him on something he’s been begging every single deity for?!

“So, if you have a girlfriend, why the hell did you just do that, Jisung?” The disgust and confusion in your voice made him feel far more awful than he already was. Appalled would probably be a greater feeling, though. He’s made sure to let you know that with the harsh ‘what?!’ that spews out of his lips like a hymn.

“What the fuck? I’ve never had a girlfriend. Jesus fucking Christ, why would she say that?” He questions the latter to himself, unaware that he’s confessed his inexperience to you (as if it wasn’t noticeable); shifting his attention to you shortly after. “Why would you believe her in the first place? I’ve never looked at anyone but you! Why won’t you see that?”

It’s not his grasp on your shoulders that startles you but rather the sincerity in his confession. Never in a million years did you think you’d be hearing these words from Jisung. The fuzziness in your chest adds to that shock which confuses you and at the same time disgusts you.

Jisung is far more perceptive than you had thought, “Please… It’s been you since the summer we met…” He goes back to pleading, his grasp softening. Kneading your arms as to beg for contact on your end. You hate how much this is luring you into whatever he wants. You’ve never been able to say no to him, yet again these found feelings are clashing with those you’ve fostered since you met him.

It’s vile and conflicting to see him in such a sweet light. As your junior who’d you do anything for, to… this incessant needy and lovestruck man that keeps begging for an ounce of affection in any form possible. If it was for Jisung he’d be on his knees kissing the sole of your shoe as long as you get to tell him you love him the way he loves you.

You sigh, contemplating on what to do or what to feel. “I don’t know, Jisung.” You huff conflicted. You’ve always been like a little br–” His hand covers your mouth before you can even finish your sentence. His eyes tremble and you realize that he’s much closer than he had been. “Don’t finish that. Please don’t ever say that again…” He begs and begs. Either it be his words, the way his eyes look at you, or his body language.

“I’m twenty-two, I’m taller than my own older brother or any of the friends we made in camp. I can drink and smoke if I want. I’m a man now, Y/n. Not that scrawny squeaky voiced kid you met long ago. I don’t need you to see me like that. So please… erase that from your brain and see me as I am now.”

You don’t know if you hate him or yourself at the moment. You’ve never been one to reject change, in fact you welcome it but it’s different when it comes to the image of people you like. Fuck it, you’re even upset at how deep you’re thinking about this when within a few minutes you might think this is stupid and unserious.

“If age is the problem, don’t let it get to you. We don’t even have a disgusting gap. For goodness sake, we were in the same group classifications every year at camp and Mark had already hit the group limit. That should be enough to get you out of whatever hellhole you’re digging yourself into.”

See? Eventually things could turn so unserious and with the sound of his voice, rather bratty and accusatory. “Do you not like me, is that it? Do you not find me desirable?” He questions, head nodding to incentivize an answer from you. He almost makes it seem natural and you wonder how many times he’s done this before. Push people’s buttons until he gets an answer. You suppose he truly has grown.

The Jisung you last knew would never whine for something like this. All he had to do was say please with a pout and he’d get what he wanted. Far more innocent and civilized. This was crude, erotic, and mocking. You expect him to give you a cheshire smile when he gets what he wants in comparison to his gummy one full of appreciation.

Yes, he’s no longer a boy. He’s now a sweetly cunning man.

“It’s not that.” You blurt out, cursing yourself at the admittance that he has more of a chance than either of you could’ve thought. Expectedly, that cheshire smile presents itself slowly. Sultrily, he speaks. “Then what is it?” He whispers, lips to your ear as his hands create a path down your upper body.

The words hang heavy on your tongue, distracted by his touch. Finding his large hands more pleasurable than you could’ve thought. “I actually don’t know…” You confess sincerely, eyelids fluttering when they land on your knee, fingers padding over the clothed flesh. Contemplating on whether to stay where they are at or slide up.

Ecstatic by your bodily response, he smiles sweetly. Whispering in your ear, “Let me prove it to you… Let me erase that image of me you have, please…” He begs, lips trailing to your cheek, a blazing trail branding your skin. When they reached your lips, you couldn’t deny him the wonders of being kissed in return.

You both sigh into the kiss the second they perfectly slot into each other. It’s slick and wet, albeit, much more pleasurable than his first one. This one you’re able to enjoy the delicacy of those plump red lips that envelope yours and leave a delicious sting that makes you crave for more.

Your hands paw at his sweater, drawing him closer to feel his warmth. He takes this opportunity to let his hands roam up your thighs, massaging the insides until he decides that he won’t wait and lets his hand crawl to the hem of your skirt. His hands –scorching– against your skin when he manages to pull down your tights. Bunching them around your knees and covering your legs with his jacket.

He smiles into the kiss when he feels you react to his feather touches. Taunting the idea of touching you further. He’s not too cruel though, not when this is what he’s wanted for so long. Therefore, he decides to reward both of you by letting his fingers go under your panties, the cotton feeling like heaven against his knuckles. He revels in the feeling of your wetness clinging to the fabric. Cooling against his skin while he lets his fingers waltz up and down your folds. Contemplating what their next move will be, unpreoccupied since you seem to enjoy whatever he is currently giving you. He can see it with the way your eyelids flutter and the kiss grows hungrier, needier. This is all he truly wanted.

Jisung decides to not taunt you any longer. He’s never wanted to upset you. Allowing his fingers to softly part your lips, twisting his ring clad middle finger and inserting the long digit into you. They felt so cold within your walls, forcing a gasp to leave your lips. He took that opportunity to muffle it with his tongue the second it intruded the cavity of your mouth.

The muscle, surprisingly strong as it dances along with yours, savoring the delicacy of your taste. This is overshadowed by the spasm of your legs the slower he pumped his finger into you. Molding your walls to the ribs of his nimble and spindly digits. Your pleasure is exerted through sighs and hungry kisses which he consumes all you give him. He thinks this is enough incentive to insert a second finger. This time his ring finger, quickly adapting it to the movement of the other one. It’s nice to feel the contrast between his warm acclimated finger to the cold shorter one.

His fingers move slowly, picking up the pace when he decrees that you deserve more pleasure than he currently grants you. He’s driven by the way you cling to him, hands going under his sweater and clutch his sides, fingernails softly taking the warm flesh. Jisung finds it delicious how you cling to him the way your walls grip to his fingers. Sucking him in and keeping them in place whenever he thinks of even taking them out without making you come first.

Neither speak but the silent mewls that leave your lips is enough to let him know he’s doing something good. He’s proven right when you softly nip at his swollen lips, sucking on the lower one, resulting in him releasing a shaking breath.

You will be the death of him.

Jisung found that he loved how you look when you writhe in pleasure in his arms. He thinks you look otherworldly with the way your lips part to release those sweet chants he has recorded in his brain. Enticing when your tongue sticks out to cling to his and his lips just to know he’s still there making you feel better than you’ve felt in a while. He knows you're ready when you gnaw at his lips and jaw, holding to the back of his neck as your lips trail as hungrily as his, prior. Leaving a trail of rouge that he wishes to seep into his skin like a tattoo.

When he feels your teeth cling to his jugular, he can’t help but let out a guttural moan, thankful at how secluded this booth was. His fingers reward that feeling by moving faster, his thumb rubbing delicate yet quick circles on your clit. At some point he felt scared that your cunt would swallow his rings with every clench around his fingers. You were so close and all he felt was pride and gratification that it was him that was making you feel this way.

Fuck, he could explode in his pants right now.

“Jisungie…I can’t hold back anymore.” You pant, leaving open mouthed kisses along his Adam's apple. Tongue roaming and savoring the saltiness of his skin taut on his clavicles.

He’s no one to make you suffer and not get what you want. Instinctively, his fingers pick up the pace, pushing them as far as he can. Curling them and covering your mouth when the volume of your prayers increase. Swallowing them whole when he connects his mouth with yours, luxuriating in the sybaritism of your orgasm through your kiss and spasming legs.

It takes you a minute to calm down, panting softly. Jisung looks down at you with a pleased smile, his fingers still in you, pruning by the second but he doesn’t mind. He sighs constantly, kissing you softly this time. It’s sweet and tender, similar to the first one he gave you with the difference that your cooperation makes it run smoothly.

When he parts, his fingers slowly ease out, causing you to shudder. You feel so empty and cold at the lack of his touch. Rewared only by the mere fact that he prods your lips with his ring finger, slowly entering your mouth. You savor yourself on him, tongue running along the underside, lingering on his finger pad.

No one has ever done this for you. Look at and treat you like you’re their whole world despite the lewd scenery.

His finger slips far more slick from your lips than it had entered your mouth. He takes them up to his own, running them along like a brush on the most pristine parchment. Letting its ink sink into the grooves and cement itself for eternity.

Biting your lower lip, you examine the way he takes both fingers into his mouth. Pupils blown out once he’s fully swallowing the taste of you in all forms. He knew you were perfect but this is beyond that. This is an exquisiteness he’s never savored before. He will never be satisfied again.

Jisung leans down making you think he was to kiss you again. The reality was that your essence was more inebriating than the shot of tequila and the pint of beer sitting on the table before him that he had to have a taste of the fruit directly.

In swift motions, he moves his jacket from your legs, shoving your skirt up and letting it fall over his head. Despite the awkward angle, Jisung managed to swipe the tip of his tongue against your slick cunt. The muscle parting your lips and forcing a gasp out of you.

It’s a mixture of shock and pleasure. He was shameless and that made it so hot and intoxicating, yet fear was consuming you. Forcing you to take a grasp at the back of his neck and pull him up with as much delicate force as you could muster. Like a starving kitten, parted from its mother’s tit, Jisung fetches your lips.

He looks so pretty and so stupid. So drunk and starved for you. The feeling so obvious in his hazy eyes and wet lips from your come that he has yet to lick or press against your own. You give him the latter, kissing him to satiate his need for just a bit. Biting his lower lip to calm him down.

“Don’t be so greedy, Jisung.” You scold against his lips, removing your mangled and wet tights and shoving them into your pocket. He cries like a kicked puppy but nods, getting out of the booth and helping you out knowing you’ll look like a newborn deer after his filthy handling.

Neither of you pay any mind to the cashier that takes in the payment. Weary eyes scanning you both and scoffing without questions. It’s not his first rodeo.

Drunk in a daze, Jisung doesn’t question when you give him directions. He expected it to be a hotel, one you should be staying at for work. It dawns upon him that it’s your apartment when he sees you punch in the entry code.

You’ve been so close all this time and he doesn’t knows how to take it. It’s evident in the look he gives you when you both enter the apartment and he looks around. His lips parting to question it but being shushed by your lips and hands tugging at the hem of his sweater to pull it off his body. Leaving him bare and goosebump filled before you.

“Not now…” you whisper against his chest, kissing his torso and pecks, nipping his nipple. You can talk about reality once you’re finished.

Jisung sighs but welcomes the feel of your lips and touch all over him. His own fingers unbutton your coat and cardigan, pushing them off simultaneously to make his fingers crawl to your back and unclasping your bra.

He withers and hunches over when your hands push down his pants, grasping his hard and leaking cock through his briefs. The wet spot ironically forming a heart. His Lip part, erotically to let out breathy gasps and pants. For this, you kiss him like he once did. Invading his mouth with your own tongue, holding his face in your hands, making sure he makes no effort in separating until both you feel the air escaping your bodies.

In the process, both of you manage a waltz in ridding of the remaining clothes. Kicking off any shoes and underwear, leaving each other bare in the middle of your living room. If he was given the time to admire it more, he’d tell you that it was truly what he expected of you— positively.

Instead he’s eating you alive, carnivorously gnawing at your lips in hopes to draw blood. An act that you embrace and let him do as he pleases. Simply because you’ll return the favor with as much fervor that you both will let the crimson paint itself on your lips the way your rogue has marked his skin.

When air finally did what you expected it to do, Jisung connects his forehead against yours. Both panting and drawing your bodies flush against each others. He grins seeing the little number he did against your lips, the cracks of them full like a dried up river during dry seasons. If only he knew he looked the same.

“Eat me… take your time in consuming me…” you implore, the words playing over and over in his brain as he pushes you down on the couch. Dropping to his knees without a care of what your neighbor on the bottom floor will say or if his palid knees will bruise instantly. For you, he’ll writhe in pain.

Jisung wastes no time, he separates your legs and throws them over his shoulders. His head delves in between the pretty image of your cunt and clings his lips around it fully. His lips suctioning while his tongue teases your entrance. His grasp on your inner thighs is a bit harsh but pleasurable enough that you’ll enjoy seeing the marks he’ll leave on them tomorrow.

He’s fueled more by your sweet words and the tugs at his raven hair by your fingers that curl on the locks. It feels much better when your nails scratch his scalp and for that he sucks on your clit. Incentive or reward, they’re interchangeable.

“Ah!… take your time…” you moan, head thrown back and giving him a pretty image of the expanse of your neck and the way your nipples perk. You look so heavenly that he knows it’s blasphemous. The way the overhead light shines behind your head, creating a glowing halo and he’s glad that it’s Sunday for this is his mass and holy communion. His mother should not dislike you after this.

Jisung lets his tongue roam around your cunt, savoring every crevice, picking up every single drop that spills from you. Be it that no one has ever paid such devotion to your mound, your legs begin to shake around his head. Your hands cling to his hair and pull him closer and closer to the point his nose manages to create a pleasurable pressure against your clit.

This is no problem for him. He lavishes himself in your taste and smell, moaning against you to create further sensitivity which is appreciated and you reward him by coming almost immediately when he lays his tongue flat on you to lick down and enter deep into you.

A slew of moans leave your lips but his name is the one you scream out. “Jisung, Jisung, Jisung.” Oh how well has conforming paid him off. For this he leans back on his feet, hands rubbing his thighs and teasing his own sensitive cock as he watches you writhe on the soiled couch. A lake of your come seeping into the faux leather, shimmering as its reflection on his lips, nose, and chin. How beautiful you both look.

Animalistically and greedily so, Jisung dives back in. This time pulling your body further down the couch. Leaving you limp and folded while he raises your hips and clings to them. He’s more messy and filthy about it this time around. He allows his lips to suck harshly and lick as consolation just to softly bite your clit and make you cry out masochistically.

Hypersensitivity, a force that travels in the form of your loud moans and cries. That’s what fuels him and it feels so sadistic but he indulges himself at least this once. He’s hopeful it won’t be the only time but for now he will enjoy it as it is.

He can hear you begging to please let you finish. That you don’t have it in you to last long anymore but he doesn’t relent just yet. Not when his hips buck forward and shudder with every grace of his cock against the leather of your couch. It’s so cold and harsh that it hurts but it also feels so good that he can’t help but be excited at how your soft and warm walls will soothe his dick like ointment to a wound.

That seems more exciting, yes.

All right, Jisung will please you once more. He kisses your cunt softly, long and languid velvet like kitten licks to push you further. His own rutting is much slower which proves to be a painful decision for he can’t control himself when his abdomen cramps up and painfully moans against your chest as he stands up to release all over your swollen and irritated cunt.

The feeling of his come feels like boiling water spilt on an open wound. It makes you come for the third time this night, the feeling increasing when he hums hungrily as he rubs his come in a sheer layer, ointment to your ache. The remaining that stuck to his hand, on his cock, rubbing up and down to suffer that same overstimulation at his own hands. This is his solidarity for what he’s caused you.

Tired and panting, Jisung takes a seat beside you. Caressing your face while trying to regain some stamina. You’re so spent that you lean into his touch, kissing his soiled hand and licking the saltiness off of it to savor him the way he has you.

Fuck… that’s making his dick twitch.

“Pure nectar from the forbidden fruit.” Jisung leans into your ear, kissing your cheek softly as he helps you onto his lap. You whine but ultimately allow him for there’s one more thing he can offer you and you need it.

His fingers are soft when they touch your entrance. It’s so soft and so warm, he can only imagine how sensitive you are. The image makes him moan softly against your ear. Your head resting on his shoulder and your arms wrapped around his torso. Limp yet so needy against his body. The body heat between both creates a layer of perspiration that travels from that connection onto your entire body.

Jisung rubs your back in soothing circles, leaving peppered kisses onto your hair and inhaling the scent of your shampoo. He inhales and exhales like his life depended on it, kiss after kiss after kiss.

“You’ve always been so good to me, Y/n. Do you like how I’m thanking you?” He hums, lifting your face with a finger on your chin. “Yes…” you sincerely confess in a breath, returning the favor with a slow kiss that allows your tongues to finally explore and examine each other the way you both are doing. By any form, you two will always find a way to please each other.

“And, I think I should keep going so you can fully understand how much I like you and have liked you…” he mutters in between kisses, his tongue shoving the words down your throat so you’ll digest them immediately.

You can only nod, feverishly and with a shiver down your spine when he holds your lower back, helping you up while the tip of his cock rubs slowly against your folds. You can tell it’s helping him get hard. His flaccid cock rapidly hardens with every stroke, his breathing increases and comes out shaky against your ear. It doesn’t help that you’re kissing his throat like you were back at the bar with the exception that they’re less hungry and far more passionate.

“Can I fuck you, Y/n?” He begs, eyes droopy in a plea. If it wasn’t because of how he’s holding you, you’d be sure his hands would be together in a prayer. You hum, pretending to contemplate when your answer had been decided long ago.

“I don’t know…” you tease. God only knew his abhorrence of those stupid three words. He’ll make sure to knock them out of your vocabulary if you say yes. For now, like the brat he is, he shakes and writhes, tantrum-like while his words come out in elongated whines.

“Please, Y/n…” he cries out, his grasp on you tightening slightly. You hum again but you don’t speak, basking in the pretty sounds he makes when he doesn’t get what he wants.

“You can’t feed me and then starve me… I’ll go crazy if I don’t taste you again.” He pleads, lower lip jutting out and letting his face get closer to yours. He’s so pretty like this that you can’t help but concede.

With a giggle you nod, “Very well then.” You tell him, kissing his cheek. The sweet act is gone when he lowers you down on his hard cock. You had seen it moments prior but hadn’t registered that the stretch would sting like this. It’s not bad, matter of fact it feels so fucking good… and it doesn’t help that he’s long enough that you feel him in your stomach.

“Ji…” You moan out in parts, eyelids fluttering as he bottoms out. Jisung sucks in air through his teeth when he feels your ass on his balls, squishing them and begging them to please you. That is something that he will hear out anytime.

Your voice sends him a whirlwind, “Give me your hand.” You request from him. If it wasn’t for the sheer fact that you wanted him to see and feel what he was doing to you, you’d spend more time admiring his large hands. Seeing them this way, you can understand how he made you come perfectly.

Leaning back causes you to squish his testicles further. A moan leaves his lips hungrily as he admires you through hooded lids, his head thrown over the backrest. When he feels where you placed his hand, he snaps it up, admiring the prominent budge on your stomach and how warm it felt to be in you.

“See?” You ask in the sweetest tone, smiling at him. He returns it with a nod, caressing what he’s caused. Instinctively, he bucks his hips upward, a moan erupting from both your lips due to the friction and the image. It’s like a live painting being made before him.

“So pretty…” he coos, his fingers dancing around the imprint. His thrusts increase in pace, your head rolling back in pleasure. It’s not fair that he has to do all the work; holding onto your thighs, you begin moving up and down on his shaft.

His moans get louder and his hands roam your body like undiscovered land. Landing on your breast and squeezing them. Your own hands leave your thighs to help him in kneading, yelping when his fingers take a hold of your nipples to squeeze them. “You’re doing so good, Jisungie.” You praise, each word received with a hard thrust from him and a whine, thanking you.

“My Jisungie is so big now…” you moan, leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss, he holds your hips while increasing his pace. “Such big hands,” reaching for one, you kiss his palm before letting it fall to its initial spot.

“Such big pretty lips…” Your teeth nip his lower lip, reopening the cut from your earlier‘s cannibalistic game. “The most beautiful big eyes.” And with a drop of his blood on your lip, you kiss his eyelid. Eyelashes flutter upon feeling your warm moist flesh.

You attempt to sound just as tempting and sultry, but his thrusts along your hips hopping on his dick— your words leave out in broken moans and cries.

“And such a fucking big dick that will make my guts yearn for it again.”

Jisung’s eyes blow out, lips parting and licking off the blood from them. He allows himself to be vocal now. There’s no holding back when his hands grasp your ass and hold you in place. His hips move up rapidly, reaching deeper than he had previously. Your lower body stings from his handling, it doesn’t help that his testicles are slapping against you that creates an echo to play all over your living room.

You’re being fucked stupid that no coherent words attempt to leave you anymore. Anything that does are moans and cries which he swallows entirely when he grasps your jaw harshly to kiss you as messy and wettly as he did at the bar. There’s some teeth and so much tongue but neither care when the feeling of your walls molding around his cock, that they’ll forget how good his fingers initially made you feel.

He’s so swollen, you feel it with every thrust the same way he feels you grip him with no intention of letting go until you both get what you want. It’s such a perfect fit that makes his abdomen ache. He’s so ready and so are you.

“Finish… please, finish.” He begs, hips move messily and mindlessly. He’s so ready to be done but he needs you to come first. It’s not until he shifts and brings you closer that his mouth wraps around your tit. Hungrily kissing it like a starved animal. His teeth take no mercy in biting the skin around and your nipple, leaving indentations of his pretty teeth. At least you’ll have his smile engraved on you.

He continues on the second one, your nipples so hard that they ache from his sucking and biting. And when he feels the needs to insert two fingers in you while he fucks desperately with squelches imploring you both to finish, you can’t help but clamp around him with a loud moan erupting from your lips and coming around him. Fingers and cock.

Your cries don’t seize, they only increase when he himself spills within you. It’s so warm, almost hot and there’s so much that you can feel it run down the sides as he remains in you. Poor Jisung, he had been holding it for so long. Your poor little, Jisungie.

You squirm on top of him, shaking from the great orgasm. Something you hadn’t had since that one time you masturbated at nineteen. Thank you Jisung for being such a great sport.

“You know,” Jisung is the first to talk, swallowing. He was parched. “I’m so glad I waited for this.” He smiles tiredly, you giggle with a sigh but ultimately nod. “I’m sure other girls were satisfying enough.” You say, to which he shakes his head.

“No, I meant sex.” He confesses confidently until he coils in when he realizes what he’s said. Your surprised look only makes the feeling grow. “No way.”

He nods

“No way! There’s no way you fucked me this good with it being your first time!” You attempt to lean back to look at him but your body aches and it also decrees that it wants to cling to Jisung’s as much as it can so the most you muster is looking up at him.

It’s such a pretty image when you notice the bashful look on his face, crimson blush consuming his entire body. How he, out of custom, smiles and throws his head back with his index finger extended under his nose to cover his mouth. There’s your sweet Jisung.

You laugh quietly, hand going up to caress his hair. “So cute… you’ll always be my cute Jisungie.” The statement is received with a groan but ultimately, Jisung relents. Kissing you once more, refined and sweetly. He understand what you mean and he also understands that you mean it differently now. Therefore, he won’t dwell on it. Sure, you’ll always look at him in such a sweet image but now with the addition that he has proven to you how much he’s grown… as a man.

[mrpenguinpants]

See you, space cowboy

— Parting words at the end of the day.

— Jing Yuan, Blade, Dan Heng, Imbibitor Lunae, Dr. Ratio + Luocha

[Masterlist]

The title is from Cowboy Bebop. I used their "Parting" voice lines if anyone was curious. Ignore how I'm using a Kafka gif for a fic with only men. I promise this is still a "genshin" blog.

Jing Yuan

"Mmm, rest well... My apologies. There is still some work to be done and I can't see you out personally."

You blink at him before you narrow your eyes and give him a judging stare. Your fingers reach out to curl around the sleeve of his uniform, giving it a small tug that he willingly steps into despite his earlier words. He doesn't try to hide the amusement in his eyes, even letting out a soft chuckle that makes your lips downturn into a frown. Jing Yuan reaches up, smoothing the crease between your eyebrows before resting on your cheek.

"It's obvious that you're tired. You should rest for a little bit more before you go back to work," you lightly scold as you give another weak tug for him to return to your shared home. Another chuckle escapes him as he places his other hand on your shoulder, rubbing soothing circles through the fabric for a few seconds to attempt to appease you. "It's been a while since we've shared a meal together..."

Jing Yuan's eyes soften yet he politely removes your hand attached to his sleeve. This time he avoids your gaze, the disappointment flowing heavy in the air, when he shakes his head and steps back.

"Next time, I promise," he whispers, squeezing your hand to hopefully convey his sincerity. "I'll take a day off as well. I heard that our Trailblazer friend has restored Aurum Alley back to its former glory. I'm sure Yanqing would love to join us as well."

You seem to mull over it in your head. To trade one night for a full day is tempting, plus Yanqing has been running himself ragged given the recent events. It would be nice to have a break where it can just be the three of you without any military or political weight hovering above you.

"...fine. But if you break your promise, I'll sic Mimi on you," you pout at him, twisting your hand from his grip to poke him in the chest.

"I...shall plan accordingly then," he laughs awkwardly because he knows you will follow through with that threat. He still has the scratch marks on the walls as proof. Playful or not, Mimi is unfortunately an overly heavy lion.

Blade

"Go. When the mara strikes, you don't want to be next to me."

"Is that what you say to everyone who tries to help you?" you huff as you carefully bandage his wounds, the white bandages seeping red slowly as you wind them around his torso. Despite the sarcasm dripping from your tone, he can tell you're genuinely angry with him this time. If it were anyone else, he would shake them off to leave, but when you look like you're two breaths away from bursting into tears, so he can only take a deep breath and let you bandage him up.

"They'll heal. They always do," he says after a moment of silence. Alas, his attempt at comfort does nothing but make you more stressed. He winces slightly when you pull too tightly on the bandage, the gauze scrapping against his gash that's already stitching itself together again.

"I know, so shut up already," you spit in an attempt to save face, and he decides to offer a bit of kindness by not commenting on it, "I'm not doing this for you."

He knows. You used to be an ordinary medic before the Stelleron Hunters recruited you, and you incidentally had to switch careers to something more violent. But old habits die hard, and this small bit of control helps to ease your worries. Even if it's only by a small margin. Your weakened hold lets the bandages fall into a heap on your lap as your shoulder shag. You press your forehead against his shoulder just slightly above where his wound is already rapidly healing into another scar.

"Can't you be more careful?" you sigh into his shoulder, a smear of red on your cheek that you both ignore. Blood will wash out.

"I'm sorry," he replies. He won't lie to you and say that he'll try. For as much as the mara controls him and his emotions, he wills them away for a few seconds.

Dan Heng

"Time to turn in already…? Thanks for the reminder. It's easy to lose track of time in the archives — before you know it, a whole day's gone by… See you tomorrow."

You have to stifle your laugh lest you make Dan Heng more embarrassed that he kicks you out of the room to save some dignity. Even though he says all that, he hasn't once lessened his hold on you for you to actually get up and leave. If anything, his arms around your waist tighten so you're practically molded into his chest. To be fair, you had lost track of time as well. After the recent adventures and running everywhere, it felt nice to settle into Dan Heng's lap and waste a day away in the archives, just basking in each other's presence. No crazy hunter trying to stab Dan Heng or overactive mara-struck enemies attempting to decapitate you. Just the hum of the machines and the warmth of company that neither of you are ready to leave so soon.

"You know...technically it's already "tomorrow" since it's 2am. We could just stay here," you muse as you tilt your head up to look at his unimpressed expression. The longer the two of you stay up, the worse the rest of the day will be from the lack of sleep. Plus it's not healthy to stay up to reset a sleep schedule.

"You know we can't do that. Besides, you might be comfortable but this shelf has been digging into my back for the past few hours," he sighs, shifting his body to prove a point further.

"10 more minutes," you bargain.

"2," he denies flatly.

"5?" you try again.

"2." He stares you at with a frown.

"3!" You stare right back with a cheeky grin.

"...fine."

He hides the fond smile into your hair as you cheer on gaining a single minute.

Dan Heng • Imbibitor Lunae

"It's getting late, I won't be staying up much longer. Sleep well."

You have to stifle your amusement less you make Dan Heng recede even further into his shell, but you can't help but think it's kind of cute how awkward this dragon can be sometimes. The way he stands so stiffly and not at all relaxed for sleep, how his eyes are staring at anything but you who is standing right in front of him, coupled with the uneasy way he says for you to "sleep well.". As if he's questioning if it's okay for him to say something so casually despite all the time you've spent in each other's company. Dragon horns or not.

"Much longer...huh. And pray tell, how many minutes does that equate to again? It's kinda hard to tell when I'm talking to an infinite respawn glitch," you tease, lightly punching him in the shoulder makes Dan Heng crack a tiny smile. You mentally pat yourself on the back for that little win. Ever since the Astral Express concluded its journey on the Xianzhou, the new dragon had been walking on eggshells around everyone.

"You're talking too much to that hacker girl. That's not how the vidyadhara reincarnation works either," he sighs but the tension is gone from his shoulders. If you're able to joke about it then you're not mad at him lying about his origins, even though you haven't been in the first place. "But I will return to the Archives with the system hour."

You spare a glance at the clock. It'll be midnight in another 20 minutes. Has it really gotten that late so quickly?

"Alright, but if I check the data bank and there are new entries, I'm kicking your door open mister," you place your hands on your hips as you gesture two V-sign fingers at your own eyes, then at him. "Good night Dan Heng. See you in the morning.".

Dr. Ratio

"Another day has passed. If your problem still hasn't been solved, is it possible that the problem is you?"

He tilts his head to the side gracefully as you hurl your pen at him. The cheap plastic breaks on impact and leaves a smear of ink that you'll have to clean up unless you want another stain for Dr. Ratio to insult you for. Perhaps you can use his name as a tax write-off? It's the least he could do for you with how much attitude you put up with.

"What if my problem is you? If you didn't dodge then I wouldn't have to waste so many precious pens," you counter as you reach for the white cloth hanging from his waist to use to mop up the ink. One that has Ratio slapping your hand away with his stone booklet. He even dares to wipe at it with a handkerchief, as if touching your skin is equivalent to touching trash, rather than offering it to you!

"Ow! Geez, you really don't hold back. I wasn't going to actually use your clothing!" you fake sob as you nurse your poor hand close to your chest. It doesn't hurt as badly as you're making it out to be. You've seen Veritas throw chalk at his enemies and leave chalk-sized holes in them. "Besides, it's not like I can do anything about my "problems". [ Rahu ] isn't the easiest place to investigate..."

Your body slumps in as you think back on how little progress you've made with that strange planet. Diamond has been kind enough to not assign a deadline but you can feel the quiet disappointment every time you report that you don't have anything new to share each month. Maybe Veritas is right. Maybe the problem is you.

"Which is why you've been given the role. The numbers written on a stats page or monthly reports do not measure the trial and error of someone's pursuit of knowledge. Very few scholars I know would be capable of continuing for the sole purpose of finding the truth. Surely you're capable of seeing that? Unless I've severely underestimated your intelligence," Veritas states as if it were a fact. He reaches to take your hand, giving it a once over to see if he has truly hurt you. His words bring a small smile as your heart swells at his encouragement as you squeeze his hand back.

Luocha

"Have an early rest. I'll keep watch here."

It's the last thing you hear before your eyelids droop close and sleep takes you under. Your body slumps against Luocha's side, his hands already out and ready to catch you, before he gently maneuvers you so your head rests in his lap. He hums humourlessly as he combs through the strands of your hair, a bit of dirt clinging onto the ends. He'll have to tend to that later.

"I wonder what someone like you dreams of," he contemplates although he doesn't expect an answer. Your face is the picture of serenity as your chest rises up and down slowly with each breath, completely dead to the world. You're far too trusting of him, even his first meeting on friendly terms with Dan Heng hadn't made that man lower his guard. Sure, they had been on the same team but Dan Heng would constantly look behind him as if he was waiting to get stabbed in the back by Luocha's sword. Yet here you are, fast asleep in his lap and entirely defenseless.

A loud buzzing sounds from your pocket that Luocha reaches for to check, you're not going to be awake to answer it anyway.

"What considerate companions you have," he muses as Dan Heng's caller ID flashes on your phone before his call gets sent to voicemail. It's truly a blessing that all phones operate under the same system programming as he holds down the power button, effectively shutting the phone and other potential distractions silent. Under the artificial night light, when it's just the two of you here, no one can see the secret smile on his lips. Nor the possessive hold he has on you.

[ssentimentals]

hiii can i request the suggestive prompt #36 with joshua 🥺 tysmmm

hiii, yes you can! thank you for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

suggestive prompt: 'fuck.' - 'already did that.'

you stare at the ceiling, not being able to comprehend what happened during the last hour. you can't pretend that it was all a dream, because joshua is right here in all his naked glory and-

'fuck.' you mutter, closing your eyes and covering your face with your hands. this doesn't make you feel better, so you let out a longer one to release all frustration: 'fuuuuuuck.'

'already did that.' joshua quips because he's annoying and lives to make your life miserable.

you don't have to open your eyes to know that he's smirking right now. smugness practically radiates from him in waves and you scowl, lying: 'it wasn't even that good.'

joshua huffs a laughter at that and bed dips. for a second you think that he's standing up but then his still warm and sweaty body is on top of yours, his long and slim fingers pry away your hands off your face and you have no choice but open your eyes and look at him. to your utter disappointment you note that his face is stupidly, frustratingly handsome even after two rounds of passionate, crazy sex. joshua looks like he knows exactly what's going on through your mind, because his eyes twinkle with amusement: 'oh yeah? so you faked your two orgasms and your voice is hoarse right now not from screaming my name?'

you want to punch him, but his hands are holding your wrists and your whole feels too light, too weak to break free. 'yeap,' you agree, popping the 'p'. 'faked everything.'

joshua grins at you and it's hard to keep a poker face on, when he looks at you like that. but you try and fail, because corners of your lips are lifting up and joshua smiles wider at you. he leans in, touching his nose with yours. 'hmm, i see. that was a great performance, then. you belong on the stage with these acting skills.'

you roll your eyes. 'anything for you. get off me now, please.'

joshua leans closer, kissing corner of your mouth. you hold back just barely from turning your head and meeting his lips. you want to - desperately, but you hold back. joshua stares at you for a long time, seeing into the depth of your soul. he silently gets off and starts dressing in silence too. it feels incredibly cold and awful, but his next words cut your heart open like nothing else: 'wanna hear the main difference between us? i'm honest with myself and my desires unlike you.'

you don't say anything on this because there's nothing to say. you lay motionless as he gathers his things and you lay motionless as he opens the door. 'when you find the courage to tell yourself what you want, what you really want - you know where to find me.' joshua turns to you, smiling softly. 'i'll be waiting.'

door closes with a soft click behind him. you lay motionless as tears gather on the corners of your eyes. you just hope you'll be able to come to him with truth at some point. and that he will be waiting for you and your truth, which is very easy - you want him, too.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[bonbonly]

Retired scriptwriter!Nico would definitely always give the reader a script for a movie as a favor…unless he finds out that movie was being produced by Lewis…then you’re in trouble.

i lowkeyyy had way too much fun writing this

bon's thoughts (18+)

"mr. rosberggggg" you cry out in a sing-song voice, twirling your hair. you stomp your foot a couple times on his front porch, before harshly kicking at his door. with a huff, you bunch up the ends of your dress, adjusting your fur coat as you move to the side of the house. as expected, the window's open and you sigh, crawling in like a rat scouring for food.

nico exits his bathroom, a towel around his shoulders as he dries his hair and at the sight of you seated so haughtily on his couch, he groans out loud and rolls his eyes, "ms. (l/n), this does count as breaking into my house, you are aware of that right?"

"doesn't matter, mr. rosberg! i've come to ask about the script you were working on? remember, i said i can bring you back to the oscars!" you gaze over at the shelf right above his TV, all his awards on display. a hint of cobwebs was present, and you clear your throat to bring his attention back onto you, "mr. rosberg, i trust you have it finished, correct?"

he lets out a low chuckle, rubbing his jaw as he walks over to the dining table where all his papers lay askew. he shifts through some, crinkling the edges as he tosses them around and brings back a large binder, "for you, ms. (l/n). hopefully, this'll put you in contention for the oscars this year... and maybe if it's successful i'll come back to the industry again, does that sound-"

but his words mean nothing to you once you grab hold of the script, you're flipping through with vigor, excitement bubbling inside you as you squeal out loud, "oh, lewis will never refuse me with this!"

nico's lips form into a thin line, his hand still in the air from when he was gesturing his words and he tilts his head, "i... i beg your pardon? l-lewis? what does he have to do with this?"

"oh my dear, mr. rosberg!" you coo, pinching his cheek which makes him snap his neck away from you in disgust, his eyes hooded with rage at the way you're babying him, "producer lewis told me that if i had a good script, he'll let me sign onto his production house! of course, i'll have to work with legalities to get out of carlos' contract but i can handle it! now you being the sweet gem you are have just given me the opportunity to finally impress him!"

nico's jaw goes taut at your words, and he yanks the binder from your hands and tosses it to the wall, thereby knocking over one of his oscars. you shriek as it crashes onto the ground, crumbling into a million pieces. your worries about the material award is put on hold when he digs his fingers in your hair, yanking your head back to get a clear look of him, "how fucking dare you...gör," he emphasizes the last word with a harsh shake of your head, which causes you to yelp in surprise. your eyes go wide, staring at him with that oblivious look you always gave him when you crossed a line.

"w-what'd i do wrong?" you ask, and he laughs right at your face, his hand traveling down to grab your jaw, his fingers digging into your cheeks,

"too many things you've done wrong. and i've been quiet about all of them, but this? going to the man that nearly ruined my career? with my script? that i generously spent weeks working on for you?" he tosses you onto his couch, his knee pushing your legs apart for him to settle between them, "just the nerve, the fucking audacity of you to come here begging like a cheap whore for me to write you a script, and i do it every time because i keep thinking you're a star, and then you remind me time and time again that whores like you will never learn!"

he hikes your dress up, noticing your thin lace underwear and he glares at you, "im not surprised, just disappointed really," and he hooks a finger into the waistband and pulls it back, letting the fabric slap onto your mound with a firm snap! that has you whimpering. "no, no noises from you, you keep your mouth shut. i don't want to hear any of your bullshit."

he grabs your panties and slides them down your legs, all the time berating you as he stuffs the underwear into your mouth. the fur coat slips down from your shoulders and he rips your dress off, using the fabric to tie your hands behind your back as he flips you onto your stomach.

"every fucking time... when will I ever learn?" he mutters, trailing his finger down your back, "this is how you get roles right? how you get awards? your cunt's just too good to pass up on, that's why they keep making you win hoping you'll spread your legs again next year, hm?"

his touch is torturous, his movements slow and it's hours before he finally slides his cock into your weeping pussy, finally giving you the pleasure you were craving for. he ignores your strangled moans as he buries himself to the hilt, sliding out until his tip kisses your folds before slamming right back into you. a few more harsh thrusts that sends you to heaven before he grabs a hold of your hips and sets a relentless pace. he leans down to pin his weight on top of you, loving the way your moans flood his empty house. he snakes his hand around to circle your clit, your moans now screams that momentarily distract nico from the fact that lewis was calling you. you pathetically try to wriggle away but nico holds you down, letting his cock root into the gummy walls of your creamy cunt and he grabs the phone,

"had an appointment didn't you? you were gonna tell him about my script?" he scoffs. he smacks your ass hard, and you jolt forwards as your face burrows into your coat, tears streaming down from your face, "should let him know you won't make it right?"

nico answers the call, tossing it right in front of your face and he finally yanks the panties from your mouth, yanking your head back as his fingers find your hair. he picks up your pace, "i want to hear you scream, slut, be as loud as you can be."

that's more than enough for you to be babbling, sobbing and screaming at how good you feel, how you'll never make a mistake like this again! "mr. rosberg, oh rosberg!" you punctuate with each moan, and nico laughs behind you. there's silence from lewis's side, exactly what nico wanted. his thrusts become erratic, and when he's close to cumming, he pulls you up flush against his chest as he rubs your clit hard, determined to make you milk his cock. your guttural scream floods lewis's ears through the phone, combined with nico laughing out loud at the mess you've made,

"you slut! look at you!" he chuckles, "i have to get my couch cleaned now! there's some on the table... be a good little girl and lick it off for me, hm?" he lets you go, untying your wrists and kissing your forehead gently before grabbing the phone right above your head.

"you stay away from her, hamilton," nico growls into the phone, "i better not see that contract signed by her." and then he hangs up, tossing the phone back onto the couch before heading back to his pile of scripts waiting for him at the dining table.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Ron weasley - Opposite teams

Summary: You play a match against your boyfriend, who's a very sore loser. wc: 2k

Seeing him on the pitch shouldn't have had such an effect on you, especially considering you were playing for the opposite team. The gear looked good on him, and confidence was beaming off his skin, but you were one of the best chasers at Hogwarts, priding yourself on how rarely you missed a shot. "Pull yourself together Y/N!" Flint yelled at your frozen form, still in shock of what had happened. It was all because Ron had flashed you that stupidly gorgeous smile when you were about to score that you hesitated - hesitated enough for him to read your body language and predict your next move, easily catching the quaffle when you threw it. Even your boyfriend had been surprised, well aware of how good you played from years of watching you on the field.

"Wow! It seems as though L/N is too charmed by her boyfriend to get a good shot, this is a new one folks!" Begins Lee, rousing up those in the bleachers. "And it looks like Slytherin Captain Flint is calling for a time out! Good choice I'd say!" It was already embarrassing enough that the entire school knew the time out was being called because you were too hot and bothered by your boyfriend, but your face flushed a dark red the second the Slytherin team turned to look at you in disappointment. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I don't know what got into me, he's just so- I can't be the primary shooter I'm sorry!" The entire team looked back at you as you rambled and you felt your face get impossibly warmer realising you were gushing about your boyfriend to six teenage boys. "I'm sorry." You muttered.

"Y/N's right," Starts Flint again, "She shouldn't be the primary shooter for this game..." His voice trails off and your gaze drifting to where to Gryffindor team stands. You can see them laughing for a moment, and Harry pats Ron on the back - the reason you missed literally couldn't have been more obvious and they were having a field day about it. "Got it Y/N?" Your head snaps back to Flint, looking at you with raised eyebrows. Your face goes blank, your mouth opening as though to say 'what' but nothing comes out. "You'll switch places with Nott as secondary." Malfoy says quietly to you, and you perk up "Yes, got it!" Flint doesn't look convinced, but calls time out to be over anyway, and everyone gets back on their brooms.

"Stay focused or I'll knock your boyfriend off his broom!" The remark is clearly aimed at you, but is loud enough for both teams to hear and you glance at Ron, whose face has blanched at the comment. You turn away from him, trying not to smile, and the whistle blows. Nott scores time after time after time, and you can see your boyfriend's confidence decreasing while his anger increases. Nott passes you, high-fiving you on the way back to his post. "Good strategy change by the Slytherin team, it seems that they're back - OHH AND MALFOY CATCHES THE SNITCH, GAME OVER EVERYONE!" You're relieved to be off your broom when the game end and you sigh deeply, rolling your head in a circle to try and stretch a kink in your neck out.

You finally join your team, earning pats on the back by them, and teasing comments "Well he's not gonna be happy about that one." and "Good luck getting laid tonight." The comments follow you all the way back to your dorm since Pansy walks with you back to the common room. "I don't even know how that happened though! You never miss! Like you can't be so attracted to someone that, well that happens. He's going to be in such a prissy mood, good luck with that."

The party in the common room is in full blow when you finish showering and getting dressed. You're clad in a tight black mini-skirt with a red crop top, something your boyfriend will hopefully appreciate. "I see what you're doing." You're interrupted by Draco, who eyes your outfit once before handing you a drink. "I think you underestimate just how capable I am of getting my boyfriend in bed, Malfoy." He grins, shaking his head "Well if you have the effect on him that he had on you, I doubt it'll take much." You scoff in amusement, the jokes will never end. "Hey if Marcus asks where I am, don't tell him I'm sleeping with the enemy." But Flint is already beside you, muttering "Cheers" under his breath, so you scurry away quietly, starting your trek to the Gryffindor common room.

The Gryffindors' party is completely different. The music in the background is quiet, and the Gryffindor Quidditch team sits together, each player with a drink in hand while they talk. Others seem to be having more fun than them. When Ron spots you walking towards him, he rolls his eyes, clearly upset. His teammates, on the other hand, greet you kindly, some even joking about the slight incident on the field. You stand in front of Ron, putting a knee on the couch between his legs to support yourself when you put your hands on his shoulder, leaning into his body.

Despite Ron's free hand coming to the back of your thigh, he still mutters "I'm not in the mood." though he leans into your touch when one of your hands comes up to play with his hair. You tilt your head down so your lips barely graze his ear "You're so hot when you're angry." Ron stiffens, looking up at you, but your head is already dipping lower so you can press kisses on his neck. He shivers at the cool touch of your slightly wet hair on his collarbone, and his eyes flutter close for a moment. When he opens them back up, Harry is grinning at him and wiggling his eyebrows. Someone wolf whistles, but he doesn't know if it's directed to you. He feels your teeth graze the spot you've been sucking on right below his ear and he sighs, trying to disguise his pleasure as annoyance, pushing your hip away from him.

Yes, he wants you, but he has to at least pretend that he doesn't for a while longer because he's still angry, and wants you to feel as though you need to try a little to win him over. You've played his game before, and you know what follows. When Ron nudges at your hips one more time, you separate from him, tilting his chin up so he can look at you. He's putty in your hands, but you like to give him the illusion of being in control, so when you kiss him, it's a soft, almost desperate kiss. "Ronnie," you plead "Please." And that soft whisper is enough to make him begin to stand up. You back away, pushing your bottom lip forward and making doe eyes at your boyfriend to stop yourself from grinning in accomplishment.

His shoulder brushes past you and he begins walking up to his dorm, but when you catch up with him, snaking your hand in his, he only holds your hand tighter, so you know you've won. Ron's door slams shut behind you, and immediately, hands are on you, pushing you against the door and groping your ass while he kisses you aggressively. The kiss is filled with angry passion, and Ron's tongue is fighting against yours for dominance. Both your arms are thrown over Ron's shoulder in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer to you so your tits are pushed up into his chest. The hands on your ass move to your front, sliding up your crop top and cupping your tits, while Ron pulls away from the kiss to attack your neck.

Moans are immediately escaping your mouth in soft breaths, your back arching into Ron's hands, pulling and massaging at your breasts, teasing your nipples. His teeth bite at your neck, and one leg comes to shove itself right between your thighs and you jerk up, an electric shock being sent right through you. At your loud gasp, Ron looks down to where his leg connected with your cunt, and his hand immediately pushes your skirt up to find that you're not wearing panties. "What a little slut. No underwear under a mini-skirt? You're practically begging." He grunts, and you whine, grinding your pussy against his thigh. "Just for you, Ronnie."

The comment seems to make him happy, at least happier than he was before since he starts working on taking your top off. "Get this skirt off now." He mutters, his attention back on your tits the second they're exposed. Your bra drops to the floor at the same time your skirt does. Ron pulls away from where he was leaving hickeys on your tits, and takes a moment to oggle at your naked body. You falter under his stare, a hand coming up to grab the material of his t-shirt. "Ron?" At the sound of his name, he looks back up, taking an impossible step closer to you and pressing his lips to yours in a slow kiss. "You're so fucking amazing." He mutters between kisses, all of his previous anger seemingly gone "Don't deserve this. Don't deserve you." Before you can react to his words, his hands are wrapping around your waist and carrying you to his bed, where he immediately shuts the curtains of his four-poster.

He wastes no time pressing his clothed cock against your naked, which has you moaning his name, bucking your hips up for more friction. "Take it off, take it off." You beg. He complies, chuckling at the sight of your hips bucking up, but takes his time stroking his cock once it's finally freed. His demeanour completely flips the second he pushes into you; his hips snapping at a faster pace than you can keep track of, his hands grabbing both your legs to pull over his shoulders. The angle is perfect and with the way his cock is hitting the right spot with every stroke, you're sure you won't last ten minutes.

You're tightly gripping the bed sheets and you're almost positive that your eyes are going to get stuck at the back of your head because of how hard they're rolling back. "Mmph, bloody hell you feel so nice." The compliment only spurred the pleasure inside you and you moaned louder, bucking your hips up for something more - anything more. Ron's hand comes down to your clit in a harsh slap, and quickly starts putting pressure on it, watching as you squirmed underneath him at the extra friction. His pace sped up and your legs started to shake on his shoulders, a sign that you were clearly close. Ron's hand begins rubbing quick circles on your clit and hips start erratically jerking into you as he releases his load into you, triggering your very own orgasm.

Ron rides out both your orgasms, stilling his movements when you put a hand on his chest. He pants, his chest heaving with every breath he takes as he takes your legs off his shoulders. "Christ, that was too much exercise for one day." He mutters, looking down at you when you open your arms wide for him. He falls into your awaiting arms and mumbles "Can't sleep. Need to clean you up." You moan, shaking your head at him. "Just five minutes."

[edgeray]

Ray! 🍅 anon here, I said I wasn't going to request but there's one idea I've been really, REALLY itching at.

So you know how you reblogged "cold nights" by beiibeii? Yeah about that... I think I cooked an angst idea of this on a related tangent? (If you choose to write this, ofc)

How about Mother!Reader who is faced with the same scenario of Arle neglecting them to the point that she loses hope in their relationship? Think of the angst when the children constantly remind their Father of important dates but she's away or somehow missing most of them because of work. To the point reader just implies for them to stop trying and accepts the fact that they married Arlecchino but is now simply the Knave's wife? Like even the children can see them losing hope which is why they sometimes lowkey plead with their Father to actually pay more attention to Mother. Mother marrying Father means that Mother is strong but behind their strong facade you can see their sadness! You can feel their loneliness! And their sense of isolation and sorrowful acceptance of their new reality. And Arle does not pick up on the subtle signs until it's Too Late. Like. Reader in the coffin Late.

And as the Knave's wife Reader does need to undertake missions like in "I am Fine in Your Arms" but because reader has lost so much hope in living a wife outside of being the Knave's wife, reader does not make an effort to return alive. The angst of the burial, maybe the children blaming their Father etc. The really young ones aside, I don't think they would be actively angry with their Father, just very, VERY, disappointed. HotH would lose its warmth for a while before Lyney, Lynette and Freminet try their best to build it back (but of course, it never becomes as warm as it used to be)

Whether or not you choose to give this one a happy ending is up to you, but on my end the only happy ending that I cooked up for them is that Arle wakes up in the next Samsara with all these memories of losing Reader and prevents the relationship from going South in the first place. (Bonus points if Reader also has the memories and compares it to how they were treated by Arle previously, makes a comparison, and goes "How I wish this were my Arle" without knowing that it actually IS their Arle, just acknowledging she fucked up BIG time and is now making heavy amends for it. and Arle Knows because of that look that Reader gives her, sorrow and joy in a complex blend.)

...I think by now you can tell that I'm an angst writer too HAHSHHSHA Nobody leaves my fics without getting a knife and I promise it's just for the plot (like we always say).

I've still been keeping up with your writings (Beauty and The Beast actually fits, holy-) (Someone send Siren!Arle a whole farmhouse of ham for her consumption please) and yes I agree that you've been pumping out bangers after bangers. (I mean. Given that, you probably can afford to be a little indulgent? If writing this much quality about your muse doesn't give you the OK to put your hands all over them, abs and all, what does?)

As always, prioritise your sanity and schedule first, stay well rested and hydrated!

Lost Warmth

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N -  Link to my momma's (@beiibeiii) piece right here. If I see you read this before reading the masterpiece I just linked, know that I am a very disappointed axolotl. 😔  Anyways, you might be able to tell just how long this has been sitting in my inbox… haha… my bad guys. T^T. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to write more angst. :3 And thank you for the additional comments 🍅 anon. I do have quite a soft spot for siren! arle, seeing that she was my first request (and requested from my momma :3). Wanted this to be a little longer, but I do have to wake up earlier tomorrow, so this is what you get T^T. Hopefully it's still good. Content warnings / info - angst, character death (duh), reader is referred to as ‘Mother’ but is otherwise GN!, 1.4k words

Cold is a feeling you've long gotten used to. Cold is your husband's dismissal of your existence, with every interaction ending with her blunt words and back towards you, leaving you with a crumbling heart. Cold are the long nights as you anxiously wait for Arlecchino's appearance for a candlelit dinner you spent half the day preparing, only for her never to return until you fell to exhaustion on the couch, a flower bouquet that remains unreceived in your hands. Cold is the creeping loneliness in the late hours of the night, when you've finally grown tired of anticipating someone that will never come, and returned to bed alone. Cold is the way you shiver underneath the thickest of blankets, no one's body warmth to sink into, no one's softly whispered words into your ear to drift you to sleep. Cold is when instead of your husband, only dim stars, a bottle of liquor, and the tears that stream your face join you in bed.

When was the last time you had felt warmth? 

You recall when the Knave first started courting you, how gentlemanly she was for such a rumored cruel Harbinger. You were first just a caretaker of the House of the Hearth, this small orphanage which you quickly found to be home for you. You couldn't help but adore the endearing children, watching as you slowly became a staple in this family. Despite your best efforts of hiding it, Arlecchino noticed when you snuck in the occasional pastry or cake from the town's most lavious bakery for the children, out of your own paycheck as well. It was then, your husband admitted, when she first fell for you. It had taken her months of encouragement from her ‘pestering’ children before she asked you out, and it was impossible to not fall for her charm.

How could you not? Not when she held you like you were her world. Not when she viewed you higher than the Tsaritsa herself. Not when her touch was heavenly, her words silky and sweet. When she proposed to you, your heart leapt with levity, and you thought your life was perfect now. A warm house, fitted with warm parents, that was what you had had, you had never felt so content. 

Then came the long nights. Nights when she trudged home later than usual, where she fell asleep without a word but sunk into your arms still. Then she started forgetting, forgetting about the dates and birthdays, and anniversaries more and more. At first, you chalked it up to her demanding Harbinger duties, but as time grew and the excuses started to run out, the perfect life you knew was crumbling. 

You became aware of this two years after your marriage when you had been preparing dinner for the two of you once she arrived home, slow cooking a steak since the early hours of the morning. Just as you exited the kitchen, you heard some children surrounding your husband before she left for another Harbinger meeting, telling her that you had a surprise for her once she came home and how excited you were for her to enjoy a new recipe you created. Your heart swelled with hope and appreciation for your children, especially when Arlecchino promised she would return in time. 

You should have known better.

You ate your tear-ridden steak alone and went to bed, leaving the steak out for her for whenever she returned home. Just like how you fell asleep, you woke up without your husband's presence, and when you arrived at the kitchen, the meat and the note besides the plate were untouched. 

You tried to eat the cold steak for lunch as well. You threw it away at the first bite. That day, you gathered your children, pleading them not to ‘pester’ Father with more reminders, as she was very busy. All that you gained back from the children was pitied expressions, and the agony in your chest worsened. Your children could pity you, but your husband couldn't? Even with your husband's coldness, you still carried out your Mother role, if only for the children. You cannot deny that the children's antics helped you forget the ever-present void inside you, caused by Arlecchino. 

You never learned the reason for Arlecchino's behavior, why she had grown so cold towards you. Now, you suppose, you would never know.  

Red fills your hazy vision as you lay on the ground, your entire body aching and fatigued, desperate gasps for air while your heart pounds in your eardrums. Your side was sliced, and the crimson liquid quickly poured out of the wound while you tried to stop the bleeding, but to no avail. 

This is your end, you think to yourself as you weakly turn on your side, every nerve in your body protesting against the movement. Your bloodied hand comes into view, your engagement and wedding ring gleaming slightly underneath the blood. The rings bring your thoughts to Arlecchino–oh, how you imagine the common disappointment in her otherwise apathetic expression, disappointment at your mission's failure. Your eyes bubbled and blurred with tears, vivid memories of your wedding flashing through your mind. The wedding ring is beautiful, still polished with that bold scarlet, the same color of her eyes, the same eyes you could never stop drowning in.

Would she even know your absence? Would she ever acknowledge you, treat you properly like her partner even if you did return? You doubt it. Did you want to return a cold bed, to a husband that does not love you, to a house no longer warm? 

It's warm. 

Your body feels like fire courses through your veins as you feel inexplicably hot, yet it's a welcomed heat. It's the first time you've felt this, but it feels familiar, comforting, like a hearth, and you want nothing more than to surrender to it. It soothes your heartbeat and calms your breath, easing your body as if you were to sink into the most plush of beds, swallowed by the thickest of blankets. The warmth coils around you, wrapping you like a cozy embrace, evoking you to sleep. Your eyes flutter shutter, a faint smile plastered on your lips.

It feels just like Peruere's arms. 

— 

Arlecchino receives a letter addressed to her on the third day you've been sent on a mission. The contents make her drop the paper, and she rushes outside, without an additional word, leaving the House. 

The children do not see her until she returns late into the night, a body wrapped in cloth in her arms. Arlecchino raised her children to be smart, to be attentive, to be logical. Whose body it is, they realize with little difficulty. 

The children weep that night. Arlecchino does not. How can she, when her source of emotions is gone? 

The burial takes place soon afterwards. As your body is placed into the ground, Arlecchino can feel the weight of her children's stare on her back. The charged tension between her and the children is palpable without words. She cannot discern which of the two reactions cut deeper. The seething fury underneath the oppressive grief for the young ones, having to lose another parent, or the crushing dismay inhabited by the older ones, specifically the twins and Freminet. 

Their thoughts are clear, even when none of them speak out loud. 

How could you fail Mother?

The House of the Hearth no longer suits the orphanage's name, not with your missing presence. There is no warmth, no matter how much the trio tries to fuel a lost flame. Even with Arlecchin's pyro vision, it is futile.

Arlecchino stands before your gravestone, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in her hand, and she rests it beside the other bouquets by your grave. Six bouquets in total, for each day after your burial. 

“For all the flowers, I should have given you, my love,” she whispers as she addresses you, glancing up to the heavens. The last two words make her feel like a fraud, undeserving of calling you hers, when she had clearly never shown so. 

Arlecchino, the Knave, the Fatui Harbinger, does not plead, does not beg, does not kneel. However, her knees drop to her dirt, and she grovels. “Please… wait for me one more time, my dear. Once I meet you again, I promise I'll never leave you alone, I'll never let you out of my arms again.”

There is no reply. 

Arlecchino feels cold. 

[ryssabrin]

i feel like people who don’t like solas or solavellan have such a warped perspective of what the romance is and how fans of it actually engage in it. like i’ve seen a lot of (most likely het dudes lol) on reddit say they tried it to see what the fuss was but felt it was “demeaning” and i’ve seen it described as literally a horror story where solas is manipulating and using and lying to a young impressionable lavellan who gives up her entire identity for him and becomes a complete doormat to all the awful shit he does. that’s never been my experience and i kinda just want to ramble about how i see it and what i find romantic about it?

so full disclosure, if veilguard had come out a few years ago with how they portrayed lavellan and solavellan i might have been pretty disappointed. i think there is a subset of the solavellan fanbase that likes the wolf/halla or student/professor thing and they play their lavellan younger and agreeing almost without question to everything solas says. i see the appeal but i never played my lavellan that way and i really like the dynamic of it when lavellan actually goes against his advice at times. solas is a character that needs to have his preconceived biases questioned. especially in inquisition when he’s still coming to terms with the fact that the modern people of thedas are in fact people lol. so i was concerned at the prospect of my lavellan being taken out of my hands and having to listen to her make excuses for him and submit to everything he says. (which tbf i don’t think is how she actually comes across in dav, but that was a worry.)

however when i replayed my canon dai run this year, i realized i was closer to the age i always saw my lavellan as (early 30s), and as my lavellan is probably the bioware pc i’ve always played closest to my own personality, i took the opportunity to tweak her a bit and make some different choices. i’ve (hopefully lol) matured and grown a lot since i was 24 and so rather than going for the snarky sarcastic cool girl vibes i opted to play her with more diplomatic and caring choices. it made me see the solas romance in a completely new light. rather than some sort of student/professor dynamic or a pride and prejudice-esque rivals-to-lovers vibe where lavellan is fighting for his respect the whole time, what stuck out to me was how much their connection builds simply because lavellan is kind to solas. she hears him out when he wants to give his opinions and advice, she respects his expertise on the fade and spirits, and she offers him comfort and friendship when she sees he needs it. she impresses him because he finds himself wanting to indulge in her closeness. he finds a connection to someone he never expected to and it makes him rethink everything about the broken state he put the world in.

it’s worth noting that lavellan is always making the first move. she kisses him first, she pursues him. he tries to brush off the kiss as a spontaneous lapse in judgement and she doesn't let him. he only ever gives in to her advances, he doesn't make them himself. he calls their relationship "selfish" on his end. he knows he shouldn't be encouraging her but he can't help but long for her companionship. that being said though if lavellan shuts it down he respects it. he probably feels a little relief because the temptation is now out of his hands lol.

i feel like there’s also this perception that he’s constantly shitting on the dalish while lavellan just has to put up with it and that alone is reason enough to find the relationship demeaning. he mentions the dalish in one optional conversation chain where you ask him for his opinion on the state of the elves and then in the balcony scene where he realizes he’s misjudged the inquisitor after his personal quest. in both instances, lavellan can stick up for the dalish. in the optional conversation, lavellan can say that if solas had a bad experience with a clan once (which we know from dav is exactly what happened lol), that she’d like to correct that misunderstanding about her people.

it's worth noting as well that lavellan doesn't know solas is the dread wolf when he's criticizing the dalish. from her perspective, he's essentially a city-born elf who had some dalish look down their nose at him for not being a "true elf" like they are, something that not only happens in canon throughout the games and lavellan would be aware of, but literally happens to solas specifically, right in front of you. he doesn't say a single word to mihris and she doesn't know a thing about him other than his face is bare and thus feels comfortable referring to him with what is essentially a slur. but rather than confront her directly about it he just passive aggressively speaks to her in elven almost exclusively for the rest of the quest lol.

far from the dynamic being that lavellan is just putting up with someone talking down to her about her culture, i think it's reasonable to see her view is more that they're both members of the same marginalized group, but from different cultures. his position in criticizing the dalish is not punching down it's lateral. she loves her culture, but is able to recognize it has flaws and not every member in it treats other cultures well, particularly even when they're from the same marginalized group. (and it's also just really meaningful that the first "flirt" option you get in the solas romance is lavellan recognizing that solas has put himself in a very vulnerable position as an elven apostate joining the chantry-led inquisition and with whatever power she has she will make sure that it's not held against him.)

i do think the writing conveys that he does have his mind changed about the dalish at least a little bit, but one of his pet peeves is when people are ignorant and refuse any information that challenges their worldview. as a manifested wisdom spirit, it is a particular sticking point to him to not be listened to when he is providing knowledge. i think criticism of how he is towards the dalish is lacking without taking into account his nature as a spirit. obvs we didn’t know that in dai but we do now. when wisdom isn't listened to it turns to pride. "i told you so," "i'll prove i'm right," "you should have listened to me," etc. etc. he got his feelings hurt when the dalish didn't believe him (and according to dav, literally tried to kill him) and his ego's held a grudge ever since.

when it comes to the vallaslin, to me it’s less about solas wanting to dismantle part of dalish culture (he offers no actual opinion on the dalish during that scene) and more that it clearly bothers him a lot that he fought so hard to free the elves from slavery and the one community of elves that’s closest to the descendants of the people he wanted to free still wears tattoos honoring the very tyrants he wanted to free them from. if lavellan says she wants to keep them and that the dalish reclaimed them and they mean something else to her, he doesn’t argue. i actually don’t like that solas’s post breakup banter with cole implies that lavellan thinks he might have broken up with her over the vallaslin. it’s putting thoughts in the head of my character that i personally don’t see her having. the way the breakup plays out, there’s not a single indication that it has anything to do with the vallaslin. i like to pick the “i believe in us” option because it shows lavellan having some idea that there’s something solas isn’t telling her and that’s the main reason he’s walking away. and the irony of course is that we learn in dav that that was the moment he came the closest to just giving up everything to just be with her.

so when i played through dav with my solasmance lavellan and she talks about what drew her to him it all just felt so right. he was kind and wise and sad but he made her feel like she was the only thing that mattered to him. (and that was very almost true!) there was a passion and intensity to their relationship that made her think he was the person she wanted to be with forever. when she says "i thought i would have followed anywhere he asked me to" you could read it as her saying she would have joined him in tearing down the veil if he asked and depending on your lavellan that might be true (though in the next bit she talks about how she would have been trying to change his mind anyways). but you could also read it as what her mindset was while she was with him during dai. before joining the inquisition, she knew him to be someone that traveled the world looking for lost secrets and history. why would she not have wanted to join him in that? is that not something you do when you're in love with someone?

something else that i find really compelling about solavellan is how solas relates to the inquisitor (not just lavellan) as a figurehead stripped of their personal identity. he knows from personal experience exactly what that's like. in the romances (not just solas's), the inquisitor is able to find someone that knows and cares for them for who they are, not what they represent. this aspect of the inquisitor's arc is honestly why i like keeping the vallaslin. my lavellan wants people to be able to look at her as the inquisitor and see a dalish elf. it's one small act of defiance and in reclaiming her own narrative. so thinking about what she might want to do after her responsibilities to the inquisition are over, it's reasonable to think she might want to just go wherever solas goes? because she loves him and feels like herself around him. even her asking him to let her come with him in trespasser feels more motivated by the fact that lavellan sees solas isolating himself and closing himself off and she's sad about it because she cares about him. that was why she wanted to grow close to him in the first place.

and i genuinely don't think it's all that wild that lavellan still holds a torch for solas 10 years later. i personally was friends with this guy in high school i always had a crush on, and towards the end of senior year it looked like it could actually end up turning into something. but then he immediately left for a summer abroad after graduation and eventually moved out of the country full time for school. we kept in touch off and on and caught up when he was in town, but nothing romantic ever happened. for years after i would catch myself thinking every so often what could have been and what he was up to. for solavellan, they were actually together. they had mutually expressed feelings and though their time together was maybe a few months at most, it was intense and passionate. they split up not because anyone's feelings changed, but because of solas's baggage. it's really not unrealistic for lavellan to continue wondering to herself what would have happened if he had been honest with her sooner. if she could have convinced him to change course. and it's not like she has the luxury of retiring and just not thinking about him anymore. that's not a conscious manipulation on solas's part to string her along, that's just the reality of their situation.

and even with all that in mind, in dav lavellan is still able to have the self-awareness to understand that the good in him that she believes exists and all that they had together and what she meant to him could all just be wishful thinking on her part. that she's giving him the benefit of the doubt "imagining his broken heart" when he doesn't deserve it because it makes her feel less foolish. she's not blindly faithful to him. i just loved everything about that scene and every word out of my lavellan's mouth felt spot on and perfect for how i saw their relationship. i could not have been more relieved lol.

as for the ending, i really really dislike the bad faith read that the only thing that matters is mythal and that he somehow loves mythal more and if that weren't true then lavellan alone would be able to convince him to stop. varric says about solas that he wants to be a hero, but it's easier for him to play the villain because it means he didn't fail, everything bad he's done is a choice. once you've done one bad thing, betrayed one friend, manipulated and sacrificed some pawns, committed one lil genocide, etc. lmao, it becomes easier to do it again. you've already crossed your moral event horizon and now you just have to find an end that justifies the means of all your misdeeds. what i've said about solas before is that what's frustrating is that he does genuinely feel remorse about the shit he does, but he needs to believe it's necessary and he will keep doing it. he needs to believe it will all be worth it in the end. it's not that he thinks feeling sorry makes up for it necessarily, but that he had to do it. he had to be the one taking on all of the bad things to hopefully one day do a good thing and it will all work out.

(as a side note when solas says "i would not have you see what i become" in trespasser i always thought that meant he was going to resort to some awful corruptive magic or something but it turns out what he actually meant was "i'm about to be a real asshole and do some incredibly awful things and i don't want you to see that side of me" which is much sadder.)

so when rook says "you don't have to do this" solas counters with "i've betrayed and fucked over and killed so many people who trusted me and if i stop i will have done that for nothing." so then the inquisitor jumps in with "as one of those people, i'm telling you that you can stop." but then we get to the heart of it. he thinks he failed mythal when she died the first time and was unwilling to listen to her as flemeth. he needs to make that mean something. he needs to justify to himself what mythal made him into. so he needs to hear from his mythal, not morrigan's mythal who has the benefit of the wisdom and hindsight centuries of living among mortals gave her, but his mythal, the one closest to who she was when she died that what he is is broken. that she's the one that broke him and he alone doesn't have to bear the weight of everything he did because of her. it's not about loving her, it's about the specific relationship he had with her. with that baggage unpacked, he's not only able to let go of his prideful need to prove himself right by tearing down the veil, he's also free to choose what he always really wanted: lavellan.

and still! yet again! he does not ask or assume anything on her part. she offers! of her own free will. something that really rustles my jimmies about a lot of solavellan criticism is that people act like lavellan has no agency. that she couldn't possibly make the choices she does of her own accord and it has to be solas manipulating her. that has never rang true to me at all. she always made the first move. i think this more uncharitable read might unfortunately be encouraged by how many actual solavellan shippers play into the wolf/halla thing but i personally don't think that's the dynamic that weekes actually wrote. it is lavellan that pursues solas, not the other way around. and weekes was honestly so careful in how they wrote the romance so that when solas's identity and plans are revealed, it doesn't feel like he intentionally tricked you or took advantage. i actually really like the ambiguity of whether or not they slept together because to me it does feel like that's a line solas wouldn't cross, but i get why that doesn't matter as much to other solasmancers.

i also think there's this perception that solavellan is a ship with an unhealthy power dynamic that needs to be "fixed" in some way or at the very least apologized for before you're allowed to like it. for me it's honestly kind of the appeal? not that there's some goofy dom/sub thing going on lol but that in spite of how "superior" solas may or may not feel to lavellan and the modern elves, he still falls hook line and fucking sinker for her. lavellan has so much more power in the relationship than she realizes. she changes his entire perspective on modern elves and his ultimate goals so bad he had a complete crisis of faith and had to run as far away from her as he could. how could he have broken the world so badly he needs to catastrophically break it again to fix it if it could create someone like her? someone he wants and cares for so desperately? it's the push and pull of him trying to stay away but selfishly indulging as long as he can that's so juicy to me! it's so good and i just wish other people could see that, even if they don't care for the character.

anyways. i don't have a conclusion. i don't want anyone to think i'm vaguing about them. this is honestly the result of some thoughts that have been brewing for a while and a lot of common criticisms i've seen over the years. i didn't want to respond directly to anyone in particular bc i learned my lesson about not doing that waaay back in the shenko fandom iykyk lol. i just really like the ship! i think it's tragic and romantic and lovely and poetic and mythological and all that good stuff. it humanizes solas as a character and makes me think about empathy and compassion and how much faith you can have in someone if you love them. or how it might feel to sacrifice love for something you think you need to do, only to ultimately realize you never did and find that love patiently waiting for you to get your shit together. or to love someone and know they love you back and that they love you so much they had to leave or they would have given up everything they thought they needed for you and then to be able to actually get through to them and get them back. "she could save him if he'd only just let her"! it's a very niche wish fulfillment fantasy and it's me! i'm the fan being serviced!

[w2soneshots]

Could I do a Chrismd request? Maybe where they meet either jogging one day or their indoor climbing club and they eventually get together.

Thanks :)

Coffee? -Chrismd

words: 0.8k+

warnings: none.

summary: you and Chris pass each other every week on your runs, one day he decides to finally ask you out.

notes: hello lovely💞 This is my first ChrisMD fic, wooo! I hope you enjoy and thank you for being patient with me, I’m trying desperately to find the motivation to write!!🏃‍♀️‍➡️✨

I woke up early this morning for my usual Saturday morning run in London. It was not particularly warm but thankfully there wasn't any rain or wind and once I get my body moving I always warm up anyway so I picked out an outfit accordingly.

I shivered slightly as I stepped out of the glass doors of my apartment building before plugging in my earphones and getting started. I always love starting my Saturday's this way since it helps to clear my head, plus I usually see the cute boy that lives in the apartment building two streets away from mine.

I know that because I've seen him leave multiple times in the last few months. I've been tempted to ask for his number but I always chicken out. Though every once and awhile I catch him looking my way when we pass by each other.

After a good fifteen minutes of running/jogging around London I see him coming towards me. My heart rate spikes. I put on a friendly smile and he returned it. I was slightly disappointed that he was still yet to say anything so I decided to take matters into my own hands, hopefully he doesn't have a girlfriend.

I stopped and turned around. He's already walking towards me. "Oh my god. Oh my god." I thought, mind racing. I quickly remove my earphones. "Hi, uhm... I'm Chris," he says. "y/n," I replied.

It was silent for a moment before he spoke up. "I was just wondering if you maybe wanted to get a coffee after your run, if you're free?" I nodded softly. "I'd like that. Meet you outside waterlow park in an hour?" "Yeah, great. See you then... y/n." He waved softly before turning around and jogging off. I let out a light, content sigh. Finally.

I swiftly finished my run and headed back to my apartment to clean up. I took a quick shower, did my hair then put on a casual outfit. By the time I was done it was almost time for us to meet.

I'd chosen the park that was located between our apartments so it was only a short walk. As I approached I saw that Chris was already stood waiting, which I was glad about.

"Hey," he said, with a cute smile spread across his lips. "Hi, where did you wanna go?" I asked. "Is he a starbucks or a cosy little café kinda guy?" I wondered. "I always go to this café ten minutes from here," he said. That answered my question. "Great, lead the way."

We made small talk as we walked. He asked how long I'd been running for and we briefly discussed the fact we'd seen each other so many times but never shared more than a friendly smile.

When we reached the café, which was tucked right on the corner of the street, we headed inside and both ordered a coffee. I was surprised I hadn't ever realised it was there but I was glad he'd shown me it since it was actually really cute.

We sat down opposite each other on one of the small tables at the front of the shop next to the window. "So... favourite colour?" He asked jokingly. I breathed out a chuckle. "I hate that question." I was hoping I wouldn't have to hear it for a while, since I was really starting to like Chris.

It took just a few weeks before we were quite comfortable with each other. We would regularly do our runs together since they fell around the same time but tonight I'm going round to his apartment for the first time to order a take out and watch a movie.

I put on some comfortable clothes, threw my hair up, grabbed a bottle of wine that I'd bought especially and walked the five minutes to his place.

I rang the doorbell and he answered soon after. I smiled softly at him as he welcomed me inside. "Wow, this is really nice," I complemented as I stepped in. His apartment was clean and quite cosy, kind of like the coffee shop.

We both sat down after he grabbed some glasses and poured us both some wine. I got comfy as he scrolled through netflix. This was exactly the kind of dates I enjoyed.

About an hour and a half into the movie (which ended up being Harry Potter) and after the takeaway had arrived and been eaten we sat close to each other, thighs touching and his arm around my shoulder. I could barely focus.

Though nothing else happened until it was time for me to leave, as it was now late and pitch black outside. I stood by the door, ready to go when Chris stopped me.

"Uh- before you go..." he began. I was hoping that he was doing what I thought he was doing. He leaned closer, his hand moving down to my hoodie covered waist. It was silent for a few moments longer before I closed the gap, connecting our lips for the first time.

When we both pulled away we shared a content smile. "Thank you for tonight, I'll see you soon?" I broke the silence. "Yeah, yeah. I'll text you." I nodded softly then waved slightly as I walked out of the door.

I was very excited to see him again and had a really good feeling about where this was going.

[roxygen22]

can i request any beautiful boy writing and thank you love your writing

Aww - thanks, anon! I can't believe I haven't written for Nic yet, so thanks for the nudge!

Context: Nic has been sober for a while and is holding down a steady job in the city, where he meets the reader.

<><><><><>

Bus Stop

"I have a crush on a stranger," you blurted out at dinner with your BFF. She stared at you like you had lost your mind. Maybe you had.

"Okaaaaay. Tell me about said...stranger," she replied slowly, skeptically.

"I take the same bus every day heading home from the office. Same bus. Same route. Same time. Every weekday. This cute guy - dark brown curls and cheekbones that could cut glass - always gets on two stops later and sits across from me. Every day except Wednesdays. Sometimes, if we happen to lock eyes when I look up, he'll nod and offer a closed-lipped smile. The looks have started to...linger. I've noticed that I have started to look forward to it."

At some point while narrating your story, your focus drifted off into the distance. When your eyes returned to your friend, she was grinning at you like a cheshire cat.

"Oof, you've got it bad."

"I know....," you groaned and dramatically dropped your forehead to your hands.

"What's the big deal? Ask him out." She shrugged nonchalantly.

You stared at her wide-eyed, jaw slack. "How?" You asked incredulously.

She laughed. "Start by asking his name. The rest should take care of itself."

<><><><><>

The following Monday was a federal holiday, so you wouldn't see the beautiful mystery boy again until Tuesday. The last hour of work crawled by at a torturous pace. At closing, you grabbed your coat and bolted out the door, determined to catch the bus on time. It dependably arrived at your stop like clockwork.

You sat in your usual spot, knee bouncing from nerves and excitement. Two stops later, a slew of people stepped onboard. With each unfamiliar face, you grew more and more disappointed until finally, the object of your affection appeared. He took his normal position across the way and down a few seats. He always looked so nice and put together in his button-down shirt and slacks.

You were eager to talk to him but didn't want to come off as a stalker, so you waited a couple of stops before scooting over to sit directly in front of him. Your movement caught his attention, prompting him to look up at you.

"Hi," you squeaked and froze as you locked eyes.

"Hi," he replied slowly, both confused and amused. He flashed a smile that frazzled you further.

"I- uh, I've seen you here almost every day for months. So this isn't like talking to a stranger. I, uh, don't usually make it a habit of talking to strangers. I've been wanting to meet you." You paused and caught your breath. "I'm [Y/N]." You stuck out your right hand to shake. Smooth, real smooth.

"Hi, [Y/N]." You felt electricity run through your fingertips as he took your hand in his. "I'm Nic."

"Nic," you breathed, holding his hand probably a little longer than a customary handshake. You weren't sure what to do next, except make a note that your BFF gives terrible advice.

He cleared his throat. "I- I've uh, noticed you, too. On the bus every day, I mean."

All you could do was blush.

"Getting off work for the day?" Nic asked as you settled back into your seat, nodding toward the laptop bag at your side.

"Yep, the daily grind. The best part is the bus ride home."

It was his turn to blush. He ducked his head down sheepishly. You were dismayed to look up and see your stop was next.

"This is my stop coming up. The day crept by while I waited to finally talk to you, but the ride blazed by once I did." You sadly half-smiled as you looked into his jade-hued eyes, while also admiring your own newly found confidence.

"Oh." You detected a hint of disappointment in Nic's voice. "If...hopefully this doesn't sound creepy...if you'd like, I can get off here, too, and walk with you. My stop is just the next one down," he offered.

Your heart beat rapidly - slightly wary since he was still effectively a stranger, but mostly exhilarated by the prospect of having more time with him. Your words failed, so you just nodded.

When the bus stopped, you both stood and walked toward the front. Nic stepped off first, then turned and offered his hand to help you down.

"Thanks," you responded, blushing at the gentlemanly gesture.

"Where to?" he asked as he shoved his hands in his coat pockets.

You froze as rationality hit you like a ton of bricks, finally realizing that you would be leading this guy, still essentially a stranger, to your apartment. No matter how much you liked him, that wasn't a smart move.

"Well, I...I," you stammered nervously. "I barely know you, so I'm not going to show you where I live. Not yet, no offense."

"None taken," Nic replied, holding his hands up in surrender.

"But I want to get to know you, and I don't want that to stop here. Want to duck in somewhere and grab a drink?"

"I- I don't drink." His brow furrowed, and his eyes cast downward slightly. "B-but I do eat!" he added. "Hungry? My treat."

You smiled and nodded, pointing at the diner across the street. "How about there? They make a mean cheeseburger and milkshake."

Nic grinned. "Works for me."

<><><><><>

Part 2

Masterlist

@croatianprincess @bluizh @jindongdongie @groovy-lady @pmak2002

[drvirgus]

hiii; would you be so generous to write my request whereby hearin is very much and obsessively in love with kissing you and making out with and she couldn’t just stop and y/n was going nuts on how to minimize the kissing😗

hopefully you like it 🤭🤭

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

Overwhelming Love

Haerin X Fem! Reader

wc: 1,4k

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Sighing, I threw my head into my hands and groaned in frustration. I closed my eyes for a few seconds as I heard my friends laughing. "It can't be that bad," Danielle said, giving me a reassuring pat on the back. I frowned and straightened up indignantly. Minji then chimed in, "Yeah. Be grateful. Others cry because they feel like they'll never be kissed," she said with a shrug.

Sighing, I threw my head back. "You don't understand. It's not like she kisses me once and then leaves me alone. No," I said, gesticulating with my hands to emphasize my words. "If her lips are away from mine for more than 5 minutes, she gets angry! And even when we kiss, she always tries to deepen it. It doesn't matter if someone is there or not."

Danielle hummed beside me, "And... that's supposed to be bad?" she asked, clearly confused. I closed my mouth and just stared at the woman next to me. "I need my space," I said. "She... suffocates me," I added more quietly, causing my friends' eyes to widen.

"Do you want to break up?" Minji suddenly asked, making my eyes widen too. I quickly raised my hands, "Are you crazy?! I love her. This woman will be my wife someday, got it?" I asked, irritated by the mere thought. The unthinkable thought...

"It just sounded that way," the taller one muttered, shrugging as she briefly looked away from me. Rolling my eyes, I turned to Danielle, as she seemed more helpful than Minji. "What can I do? Should I stop brushing my teeth?" I asked, making Minji immediately scrunch her face.

Danielle hummed, "First, I need to see the extent," she said, and we immediately heard the door to my apartment slowly open. Curiously, we looked to see who it could be, as I had given the pin to my apartment to quite a few people, which in hindsight was probably a mistake...

It didn't take long for Haerin, my beautiful girlfriend, to sit on my lap and immediately kiss me. After just a few seconds, I tried to break the kiss, but her hand on my neck prevented me from doing so. My right eye opened, and my eyebrow raised. Danielle nodded immediately.

I finally managed to break the kiss, and almost immediately, I heard and felt my girlfriend's disappointed sigh. Her breath against my cheek as she then briefly looked at Minji and Danielle and greeted them. My hand on her thigh while her hand played with my fingers.

"Wow, Haerin. I didn't think you were into PDA," Minji suddenly said, making Haerin look visibly confused. "What's PDA?" she asked, looking at all of us. Her eyes lingered on my lips for a moment, and I saw her immediately lean towards my face. This time, I was quicker and pecked her lips as fast as possible before pulling away just as quickly.

I felt Haerin's grip on my fingers tighten slightly, but she looked at Minji, who briefly explained the term PDA. Essentially: Public Display of Affection.

"No," Haerin replied, raising my eyebrows. Even Danielle looked slightly confused. "But that looked a lot like PDA," Danielle suddenly said, but Haerin shook her head. "Is it so wrong to kiss the woman you love?" she asked, frowning.

A smile formed on my face automatically, and my arms around her waist pulled her closer to me. Apparently, this was a mistake, as she kissed me again. Her hand around my neck as she leaned into the kiss and deepened it.

I felt her hand slowly but surely slide under my shirt, stroking my skin. My eyes widened as I broke the kiss, after all, Minji and Danielle were still in front of us watching. But Haerin's lips didn't move away, they just placed themselves on my cheek, then along my jaw.

A sigh escaped my throat as I looked at Danielle, who nodded her head. "We should go now," Minji suddenly said, and I watched them slowly get up from the couch. My hand on Haerin's thigh as I nodded my head. The woman on my lap didn't stop covering my face with kisses.

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

"Haerin," I said, slightly annoyed as I gently pushed the black-haired woman away from me. She had been pulling me into a kiss for several minutes, despite me telling her I was working. My girlfriend looked at me with narrowed eyes for a moment. "Don't you love me anymore?" she suddenly asked.

My mouth fell open as I looked at her in disbelief. "What?"

Haerin huffed and moved a bit further away from me. "Do you still love me?" she asked more seriously this time, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at me with narrowed eyes. Her lips, swollen from kissing, were pressed together. My eyebrows raised.

"Of course I love you," I responded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Haerin continued to look at me. "Then why don't you want me to kiss you? Do you think I don't notice how you keep pushing me away?" she asked, her voice now shakier than before. "I also know you talked to Minji and Danielle," she added, which made me pause.

"Why... do you talk to others but not to me?" she asked more quietly, visibly hurt.

With a sudden movement, I closed the laptop on my lap and placed it on the coffee table in front of me. I immediately grabbed her hands and looked at her with wide eyes. I could feel my heartbeat quickening. "I'm sorry," I said immediately, which only made the other woman huff.

"I... didn't want to hurt you. I love the kisses you give me, but... sometimes it's just too much," I said quietly, lowering my gaze a bit. "But that doesn't mean I love you less or not at all! I love you just as much as I did on the first day, even more," I added quickly, looking into her beautiful dark eyes.

"But... you overwhelm me with your love."

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Feeling guilty, I watched as the slightly younger woman cooked in my kitchen. My eyes kept darting from my laptop, where I was still trying to work, back to my girlfriend. My hands twitched as I heard her handling the cabinets and utensils rather roughly.

Swallowing nervously, I closed my laptop; after our conversation, I couldn't concentrate on work anyway. A few hours had already passed...

Haerin hadn't kissed or touched me once...

Slowly and cautiously, I made my way to the kitchen, observing Haerin as she chopped vegetables, her back turned to me.

Carefully, so she wouldn't hear me, I approached her. My arms immediately wrapped around her waist as I snuggled close to her. "I love you," I whispered, resting my chin on her left shoulder.

"I love you so much, Haerin," I repeated, tightening my embrace.

"You overwhelm me with your love," she said bitterly.

My eyes widened. I hesitated visibly. "Really?" I asked quietly, but she didn't respond. Sighing, I let go of her, but before I could move away, she pulled me back. Surprised, I tried to see her face, but she had turned it slightly away from me.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked softly.

"Hm?"

"Why do you like kissing me so much?" I asked, causing her to pause her chopping. She frowned and turned her head to look at me with narrowed eyes. She sighed and resumed chopping the vegetables.

"I just want to. I love it when you touch me... how you blush and the sounds you make... I love all of it," Haerin answered, and I hummed in understanding, a slight blush coloring my cheeks.

"What about cuddling?" I asked curiously, which made Haerin chuckle. "You don't like to cuddle."

True...

My eyes widened at this realization. "Do you kiss me so much because I hardly touch you otherwise?" I asked cautiously. Haerin remained silent, but I heard her huff. I hummed in understanding. "So you're saying I don't show you enough love," I said quietly as more things clicked into place.

I placed my hand on hers, making her set the kitchen knife down and finally turn to face me. My hands rested on her hips. "I'm sorry I didn't notice this earlier," I said softly, a small smile forming on my lips. "I'll do better," I added as I pressed our lips together.

Haerin's breath against my cheek as she pulled me closer. This time, she was the one to break the kiss, resting her forehead against mine. "I'll try to do better too," Haerin said with a smile, which made me smile as well.

"I love you."

"I love you more."

[justaaveragereader]

Hihi!! First of all I love your writings and I've been meaning to ask for a long time teehee 🤭 It doesn't have to be long or a full fic but could I request a friends to lovers san smut where hes your best friend and gets jealous of you talking to this one guy constantly so one day while you're calling that guy he fucks you while youre on the phone 👀👀👀 sorry if its so specific djdjsjd thank you <33

Hello🖤! First off thank you for loving my work I love you. I’m so sorry it took me so long to get to this, but I’m here now, and hopefully don’t disappoint! Friends to lovers?!? Ooooweeee this was my first time, and I wanted to make this shorter but once again I couldn’t help myself😵‍💫this was such an amazing request how could I have shortened it😭?! Also never apologize about being specific, I LOVE when requests are specific it gives me a clear direction to head in!

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Sharing Isn’t Caring

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Dom!San, Sub!Reader, Oral (Lotssss Of Pussy Eating), Possessiveness, Jealousy, Humiliation, San Is Down Bad For The Reader, If I Missed Anything…👀Lemme Know

✍️Masterlist✍️

“Idk why you even talk to that guy, he's a complete tool.”

“If he’s a tool what does that make you Sannie?”

Cutting your eyes to your childhood best friend. Whose eyes you swore almost popped out of his skull. You guys were constantly together, both of your friend groups had joked that you were last lovers in each lifetime. You’d be lying if you said that you stopped looking at San as a “best friend” a while ago, but you didn’t want to tread that murky water.

“Wh-What does that make me?! It makes me a guy who's looking out for his bestfriends best interest! I don’t trust this guy, you saw how he looked at me last time I brought you lunch?!?”

Letting out a huff, you finish zipping up your backpack. Cramming as many books in there as you can fit because this “tool of a guy” San was having a heart attack about was your lab partner.

“San, you slammed the bag down on the table, startling the poor guy. Then you decided to enjoy the scenery.”

“It was a nice area, I was enjoying the environment!”

“Choi San, we were in the library! It was 1:00pm on a Tuesday, everyone was in class or at work. There was nothing to see. Not to mention you sat right in between me and him!”

Smacking his lips, he kicks his foot slightly, you can see his blush creeping upon his neck, his eyes shooting down to the floor muttering not so quietly how he was just enjoying the view, and how the middle seat had the best view.

“San there was no middle seat, you literally dragged a chair in between me and him, I watched you pick up his chair and move the man down the table.”

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you walk up to San, putting your finger under his chin lifting his head so he locks eyes with you. He swore he could see his future play out in your eyes, maybe he was hallucinating, maybe he was a love struck idiot but he felt it, you were his person, you are his person.

“He’s just my lab partner, okay? Nothing more, nothing less.”

The redness from his neck traveled to his ears, lightly dusting his cheeks as well. He was so in love with you. Your face crinkled as you smiled at him, but the way you asserted yourself in one simple sentence just sent him over the edge. He could feel his heart pop like confetti, he also felt his cock come to life.

Squishing his cheeks in between your hands, flashing him a smile once more, turning on your heels towards his front door. You were big on being on time, entertaining Sans shenanigans you were always late. His body moves like it’s on autopilot, walking quickly towards your fleeing figure. Just as you open the door his hand comes up to close it. You can feel his heavy breath on the back of your head.

“San what are you doing?” You whine out, turning around to poke his chest. As your eyes shoot to him you see that look in his eyes, that look he’s given you many times. The same look he gives when you talk to a man too long for his liking.

“I really don’t want you han-.”

“Hold that thought, San!” Picking up your phone, you slide your thumb across the screen. His body puffs up, in an aggressive like manner, this lab partner was crossing too many boundaries with his person. It's almost like he’s underwater, seeing you smile, seeing you laugh at another man that isn’t him. You look at him with a face of confusion, eyebrows drawn up.

Biting his lip, you watch as his eyes darken. He’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen. The light that’s behind them dies, and fills with hunger, with ache, with possession. His hand comes to grip your hip, shoving you against the door. His body towers over yours, his chest crushes against yours. Putting the phone to the side, he can hear your lab partner continuing to talk. The chipper tone in his voice pisses him off even further.

“What are you doing?” You whisper/whimper, his knee coming up into between your thighs resting against your clothed cunt. You choke up at his sudden actions, everything feels like it’s happening so fast. His predatory gaze knocks the wind out of you.

“I’m not really too big on sharing, especially when it comes to you.” He whispers quietly into your ear, his warm breath sends a shiver down your spine. His cologne clouds your senses. Your cunt clenches around nothing, you have never wanted San more than you want him now.

“Y/n Y/n! Did you hear me?” Your lab partner's voice knocks some sense back into you. It feels like your tongue is knotted in your mouth, you feel his fingertips start to brush against your lower stomach, exploring the soft like skin.

“Well aren’t you going to answer him baby.” He whispers into your ear once more, giving your love a soft kiss. His smooth, cool lips on your heated skin is enough to have you driving yourself up the wall. You let out a quiet whimper, your hand dripping, practically letting the phone slip through your hands but San is quick enough to grip your wrist, making sure you don’t drop your phone.

“I’m-I’m he-RE!” You shout at the last part feeling San hike your body up even extra on his knee. Your clit rubbing against the fabric of your pants.

“Are you alright?” Your lab partner says through a laugh, continuing on about your guys' shared project. Sans kisses slowly turn into soft love bites, nipping at your skin leaving small welts behind. He was going to show everyone you were his. He was tired of this song and dance. He was going to take you, all of you.

Undoing the button on your pants, your eyes watch his every move, while he watches every move of yours. His glance is nothing short of wolfish, while your glance is nothing short of prey like.

“I’m going to take what’s mine, do you understand me?” You grunts into your ear. Rutting his hips against yours, you can feel the pulsation from his cock, mouth instantaneously starts to water. He was so much bigger than you imagined. Those late mates staying awake, riding your fingers to completion, curious as to how San would pleasure you, how he would fill you. Nodding your head thoughtlessly your eyes drop down to where his bulge is. Letting out a pathetic whimper you go to grab his hard on that’s straining against his sweats.

Your hand grips your phone muttering “mhms” and fake laughs to let your lab partner know you are still present, which irks San even more. Your attention is supposed to be on him fully.

Hiking your pants down to your ankles he helps you step out of them, kneeling down to help you, when he looks up, catching an eye full of your soaked panties practically calling his name. Your eyes flutter at the way he hawks down your clothed cunt.

Two fingers come up to grab the fabric, pulling it down slowly, as your cunt comes into sight he lets out a groan, not even hesitating he dives face first into your cunt. Causing you to let out a startled moan. His tongue instantly wraps around your clit giving it a good couple sucks before his hands travel up the back of your thighs, hiking one of over his shoulder, while both of his hands come to the back of both thighs prying them open even further to get more of his face into your cunt. He’s practically making out with your pussy, the wet slurping noises of him sucking down your clit, while his hands jiggle your thighs, giving them a light smack, causing your body to jerk in his hold.

His tongue explores more of you, moving down to your sopping hole, as soon as he sticks his tongue in your pussy let’s put a squelching noise. Which sounds like music to Sans ears. As he tongue dives further into you, his nose bumps against your clit. Your body almost caves over from the stimulation. His hand shoots up to your figure pushing you up right against the door. Surely all his neighbors heard what he was doing to you, surely your lab partner knew by now what was happening to you. Thrashing his head around so your clit gets bumped back and forth you drop your phone on the ground, San can hear your lab partners calls to you, asking if you are okay, yet you are so high on San the only thing you can make out is the way he’s feasting on your cunt. Sticking his tongue out, he rubs it all over your cunt making sure not to miss a spot, your cries fill the room.

“This pussy is so good, you've been giving my pussy away, huh? Answer me princess.” He groans, while continuing to slurp up your cunt.

“N-no! No!” You whimper out, back arching off of the front door.

Smacking the back of your thigh, he jiggles the meat of them once more, pulling his face back. Chest heaving up and down, he looks up at you, that playful glint in his eyes. He places a kiss right above your cunt, leading all the way up to your belly button. Small welts are left along the way. Spreading your thighs once more so there is a huge gap.

“You've been giving this pussy, my pussy to your lab partner?”

His face dives in the gap between your legs, letting the back of your thighs go so his face is fully engulfed in between you. Your cries ring out even louder in the room.

“No! I would never!” You cry out, you keep chanting to San how it’s his, and only his. Those words alone fuel his need for possession. Stretching his arm he picks up your dropped phone, noticing the call is still active, rolling his eyes at this guys pathetic ass. He shoves the phone towards you. Pulling his face from in between thighs. Your arousal is just dripping off his face, slapping against the floorboards beneath his kneeling figure.

“Tell him.” He says licking his lips, making sure to not let any of your juices go to waste. Grabbing the phone with shaky hands. Your body floods with embarrassment, yet the way San sees your pussy flutter around nothing he knows you're just as turned on as he is.

“Tell him who you belong to.”

Clearing your throat, your body heats with embarrassment. Your eyes never leave Sans watching as he gets a mouthful of cunt again. Making you stutter in your greeting to your lab partner.

“H-Hi.”

He slaps the back of your thighs harshly, sure to leave a small mark. Your eyes focus into San more who has his eyes closed while he tongues you up and down. He truly looks like he’s making out with someone, his eyes shut in pure bliss while his body is relaxed, hands roaming all over you.

“I belong to Choi San.” You quickly squeak out, not wanting this conversation with your lab partner to go on any further. Signifying that this partnership would not travel further than on school grounds.

“Tell him what I’m doing to you too.” He groans from your pussy, the bass of his voice vibrating all over making your toes curl. Letting out a whine you look at San silently pleading to hang up on your lab partner.

“Hes….hes eating my pussy…and he’s eating it real good” voice practically breathless.

“Now tell him you guys will not be friends. So he can get that out of his head.”

“We..we won’t be friends…” you say through a whimper, your dignity and pride was in hell right now.

“Lemme see the phone.” Shoving the phone to San you lay your head back against the door, his fingers coming up to rub small, slow circles around your pulsating clit.”

“You should see how I’m devouring her pretty pussy. It’s such a sight, she’s responsive too. One small flick to her clit and her eyes swell with tears. Probably wish this was you huh? Knuckle deep in her pussy, tongue fucking her, watching her come undone in your mouth.”

San hears shuffling on the other side of the phone, he knows your lab partner is still there.

“I know all about you, and the thing is I really don’t like sharing. Especially when it comes to her. So I think you should find a new partner, because if I catch you staring at my girl again. I’m going to bend her over the nearest surface and fuck her til she can’t even recognize you anymore.”

“I’ll fuck her so long and good, only thing she will be able to mutter is my name. So ima ask you do we have a clear understanding?

The lab partner hesitates to answer, both out of fear and horniness. How could he not be turned on by what he just heard, but he’s heard the stories about Choi San, and he’s not someone who you wanna cross.

Letting out a pathetic yes, he hurries and hangs up the phone. A cheshire cat-like smile crosses his face, pulling his fingers out of you, he stares up at your figure. Eyes shooting down to meet his own.

“No where was I?” He asks rhetorically before spreading your thighs once more.

DO NOT REPOST.

[appleblueberry-pie]

Can I ask Yandere Miguel with an S/o who isn’t interested in him at all, but who’s in love with his brother Gabriel?

Half-Way to True Love

You don't think this was supposed to be a friendly platonic lunch.

The more you ate the very expensive food at the expensive table with the expensive view, smelling his expensive cologne across the table, the slower you chewed in nervousness and realization. Has he been trying to impress you the whole time?

You finished your mouthful of nicely flavored and smooth mashed potatoes and looked up at Miguel. He was already staring down at you with that look in his eyes. Love. Something you didn't feel for him but you knew he felt for you. You tried to ignore your mind and attempted to convince yourself it couldn't be what you thought it was.

"How's the food?"

You nod silently and put down your fork to pick up your glass of champagne. "It's pretty good. I like it a lot." His shoulders relax and he finally cuts his first piece of steak. "That's good. The first time I came here, I knew it would be a great place for a date."

Date echoed through your head. Your face immediately dropped into one of disappointment. Miguel has honestly been pushing you to the edge for longer than a month. Constant pleas and begs to be with you in ways you didn't enjoy and even though this was one of his most tamest attempts, this was enough to get you to snap. "Miguel." He looked up at you and saw your face, his own dropping at your reaction.

"Why did you bring me here?" His face also set into one of stone as he put down his fork and knife. "Well, I wanted to do something nice for the both of us. I know both of us are equally tired from the constant piles of work we have to finish at Alchemax, I know you juggle a lot of tasks after work and you could definitely use a break like me. So, I took it upon myself to bring you here as a way-"

You look both ways around the restaurant to make sure no one was watching before leaning over to hiss at him quietly, yet the most angry you've been this entire week. "I told you a million fucking time's I'm not into you, Miguel!! I keep telling you constantly, I. don't. want. you. I don't want to date you, I don't want your money, I don't want your time, I don't want any fucking thing from you." You pick up your purse and furiously dig around for your wallet so you can hopefully just pay and leave. "You're so fucking lucky I don't toss my plate in your fucking face, Jesus."

As surprised he was of your outburst, he knew every reason and then some for why you don't want to be with him. "Why do you want Gabriel?" You look up at him in confusion and frustration. "I'm not doing this with you right now." Where the hell is your wallet??? "Why do you want my brother? What does he have that I don't? I have everything he doesn't, but you continue running to him like he's the best thing you could ever ask for."

"He's the 'best thing I could ever ask for' because he doesn't try to trick me into dating him, doesn't follow me when I leave work, doesn't stalk me, doesn't interrogate me on every single action I make and doesn't annoy the shit out of me."

You give up once you realize Miguel might have stolen it again. He does this every time he takes you to lunch so you don't find a way to leave. Not without talking to him first. "Give me my wallet." He purses his lips. "No." "This is why."

"Please, just let me-" "You've done enough. Just please give me my wallet before I scream."

He shakes his head. "You wouldn't." You raise your eyebrows.

A silence is born. Just the sound of soft clattering from forks meeting plates fills the air. The soft music does nothing to calm you.

Finally, Miguel sighs and takes it out of his pocket and sets it on the table. As soon as you grab it, he sets his hand over yours.

You look up at him and he gives you a desperate look.

".......have a good night."

The cycle is bound to repeat tomorrow.

[pastel-peach-writes]

Attracted | KorrAsami x Reader

╰┈➤ PLOT: After a close call of losing the two girls who mean the most to you, you decide it's time to cut the crap and face the music, your feelings.

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Not Proofread, No Use of Y/N, 3500+ Words

Part One | Part Three

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

Their stares dug into your soul and pulled out every sense of hiding and masking you've held in for the last few years. Their slight frowns, and disappointment in their colored eyes; it was too much for you to bear.

Were you so prideful in keeping your feelings secret that you'd risk losing Korra and Asami? Was it really that serious to let them think you didn't support their relationship?

You didn't know. You had no way to know.

Now the three of you were staring at each other in the courtyard of Air Temple Island. All parties eager for an answer from you.

However, just because they were eager to get an answer from you doesn't mean you had an answer ready for them.

Just now, in this very moment, you realized you had a crush on the two bisexuals. You just realized that going to bed thinking about kissing the both of them, holding their hands, and making them laugh wasn't as platonic as you thought.

You hated to admit it but Bolin was right. You hated when he was right, especially since you're often so stubborn. He was never going to let you live this down now.

But that's something to worry about in the future. Right now you needed to worry about the present. Korra and Asami are staring at you with hurt and almost distant eyes. The longer you let the silencer linger, the deeper you hurt them.

What could you even say or do in this moment? Make up some silly lie? Confess to them right on the spot? Make them think you're not accepting of their love? All three options were terrible. It was a lose-lose-lose situation.

"Uh," you nervously chuckled, scratching the back of your neck. The bright sun on Air Temple island shone into your eyes, nearly blinding you from the sight of the red-and-blue-coded girlfriends. You wondered what color you would be if you were added to the pair. "You know, I think I need to attend one of Tenzin's meditation classes. Learn how to ease up and become one with my chi."

"One with your chi?" Asami echoed.

"Yeah. If I'm so tense all the time and not noticing, obviously something is off. Maybe even wrong with me." You gave them another shrug. "I can't be one of the best members on the Krew and not be one with my chi."

Korra let out a chuckle. "'One of the best members'?" You nodded at her statement, a cocky smile growing on your lips. Korra shook her head, her smile from her chuckle staying on her face as she crossed her arms. "Who said you were one of the best?"

"Oh, isn't it obvious, Avatar?" You mimicked her stance and Asami did the same, matching the teasing smiles on your faces.

"Must not have been," Korra rebutted. "Sounds like you still got some work to do."

You could only laugh at her playful words. Although her statement was true, it was for the wrong situation. You did have some work to do. You had to work through and process your growing crushes on Asami and Korra in hopes you can get over them and have them never find out about your crush.

That should be easy. What's a little crush going to do to you?

-

"You're right," Tenzin said as he waved his palms over your torso. You were serious about taking meditation classes from him. You were too tense, hyper-focused on the sapphic pair. You needed mental clarity and hopefully with mental clarity comes a way to get over them.

The Airbender was using reiki, some form of spiritual healing that used energy and intention to ease the human mind and body. He decided to use the technique on you when you came to him about your stress problem. He said he rarely used this technique but given that you're a new student of his, he decided why not?

The man had his eyes closed and waved his arms and body around as if he were airbending. The only difference is that he wasn't airbending at all and in fact was getting a feel of your stress and anxiety levels. "You are very tense," he continued. "The tension lies within your shoulders and sits in your gut. Your chest, too, is tight. If you were an Airbender, you'd be blocked from your ability entirely. It would take months, maybe even years to remove this type of stress."

You heaved a sigh as the monk opened his eyes and returned to his natural standing stance. "Months"? "Maybe even years"? By the time you mastered your chi or removed most of the stress in your body, Korra and Asami could very well be married. Or even worse, forgotten about you.

It was extreme to think of those two scenarios but it's what your mind went to. You're doing this to be better for them, not to risk losing your friendship. If it's going to take years to return to the person you were before you started having feelings for them, they were gone for good.

"Well," you said as another sigh escaped your body. "We better get started."

-

Because of your circumstance, Tenzin decided to add airbender training to your "Stress Relief Regimen". Like he mentioned, you would be blocked if you were an Airbender but in addition to the spiritual and worldly connection, Airbenders also have a physical outlet. They use their body to navigate through the winds and courses of life. It acts as another way to release whatever your body is holding in.

It's been a few weeks since you started training with Tenzin and you can admit things are a lot better now. Well, physically. You're still blocked mentally and spiritually, but the airbending training traditions were getting easier for you. You ran into the equipment less and stayed on the balls of your feet more often. Even Jinora was impressed.

You practiced day and night while leaving space to meditate and to connect with nature in between. But the cause of your vigorous schedule to train and relax, you've pulled yourself away from the Krew. You rarely hung out with them outside of work and only said hello to them during meals. Day in and day out, you were training.

It was ironic though. You were training and practicing these techniques to become one with your emotions and get clarity on the KorrAsasmi situation but all the training seemed to be doing was making you avoid them.

You were actively running away and towards your emotions at the same time. How you mastered that skill, not even Tenzin knew.

He watched you prance and elegantly move around the spinning panels on the Airbending arena with your eyes closed and your arms in the offensive position he taught you. While you were physically correct, he could still feel a weight of heaviness and emotion rest on your shoulders and sink into your body.

Korra saw it too. That's why she was here standing next to Tenzin and monitoring your training. She knew Tenzin to be a good teacher so she didn't understand why his training kept you away from the Krew so long.

She already went through that teenage rebellion phase with him so she figured he eased up on allowing you to go out and such. Especially since you're not under his care and a grown adult. And as she watched your practice, she knew Tenzin's methods had changed for the better and the pressure lessened. So, if it wasn't Tenzin keeping you away from her. What was?

When practice was over, there was a meditation session immediately after. It wasn't a one-on-one session like you usually had with Tenzin, but actually an open session for the new Airbenders and anyone who wants to learn more about the art. In fact, it was taught by Jinora. Tenzin wasn't a part of it at all.

Korra assumed you kept your schedule busy with not only Tenzin's agenda but the other Airbenders too. To her it made sense. You're pretty much training to be an Airbender just without the bending. So to her surprise when she walked into the class and saw you weren't there, something was up.

-

"And you're sure they weren't there?" Asami asked as she unmade the bed for the night. She and Korra were in their room, the midnight moon shone through the window and provided natural light for the girls. Korra, just slipping on her white tank, nodded.

"Yup. Now we know Tenzin isn't keeping them away from us. I think it's them who wants to stay away from us." Korra's feet shuffled across the wooden floor, her tush melting into the mattress after she plopped.

"Come on." Asami frowned. "They're not like that. I'm sure it's something else." The paler woman sat beside Korra and placed a well-manicured hand on her shoulder. Korra only sighed again with her head hung low. "They haven't even spoke to Mako and Bolin and they're like brothers to them."

Korra shrugged. What Asami was saying made sense but there was something deeper going on. There was something you weren't telling them and Korra was killing herself trying to find out. "Does it not bother you either?" Korra's sad blue eyes struck Asami's green. "Don't you miss them? Their laugh and how they used to look at us with those eyes? Like we were the world to them. Now we barely get a glance when we pass each other in the halls or in the street."

Asami sighed. Of course, she did. She missed all of it and how you used to compliment them or poke fun. She missed watching you interact with Mako and Bolin and playing with them like they were your blood kin. She missed so much and more. She only placed a kiss on Korra's cheek and moved some hair behind the Avatar's ear. "Come on. Let's get to bed." -

"Good, now breathe while you lift your leg. Your opposite arm follows." You followed Tenzin's notes, lifting your leg and doing a fan kick while your opposite arm follows. When your arm follows, the momentum carried you throughout the move and when your leg landed on the ground, you spun around and nearly womble to the floor.

"Good," Tenzin said walking through the plush grass. "When you use that move, your weight shifts between your standing leg and then the led that lands on the ground. Because of your arm and force of the air, you spin around and when mastered, it's a great move to switch the play on your opponent." Tenzin then cleared his throat, the tops of his ears going red. "You know. If you airbent."

You gave him a slight chuckle. Almost four months into training and Tenzin still forgets you're not an Airbender sometimes.

"Sorry, force of habit." You waved him off and repeated the move, still stumbling when your lifted leg hits the ground. Tenzin instructed ways to land and poses to land into but no matter the note or correction, you continued to wobble.

"Ugh, I don't get it. I'm doing everything right. I'm making sure I'm light on my toes and transferring my weight between my legs," you complained to Tenzin as you took a swig of water.

The Airbending master interlaced his fingers and held them near his diaphragm. "Well, are you emotionally light? Spirtually, mentally?" You nodded as you wipe excess water from the corner of your mouth.

"Yeah. I mean, I think so? I mediate in the morning, evenings, and join some classes at the other Air Temple. I don't know what I'm doing wrong." You walked over to the cemented benches which were really short walls of concrete painted beige. You took a seat, crossing your legs and placing your heels at the edge of the wall.

"Hm," pondered Tenzin as he followed you to the wall. While he can admit your dedication is impressive, he can't help but feel there's something else blocking you, stopping you from achieving your greatest.

It was similar to what he experienced when training with Korra or his failed attempts at connecting to the spirit world but heavier. Almost as if you were avoiding the emotions that kept you planted deep into the ground. If you were an Earthbender, he predicted you would be one of the best.

"Tell me, young one. Is it possible there's something else bothering you? Perhaps problems with family, friends, work even?" He took a seat by you as you contemplated your answer to him.

You've felt good. The feeling of jealousy or even anxiety changed to what some would call a rock. It was as if a flat rock sheet lay on your chest and stomach. Some had a heart of gold and steel, yours wore stone armor.

You gave him a shrug and sipped your water out of avoidance. Your lack of eye contact, expression, and words told Tenzin everything he needed to know.

You were stuck emotionally and he had a hunch it was about the Avatar and her girlfriend. And perhaps the fact that they weren't your girlfriends. Tenzin wouldn't have come to that conclusion if it wasn't for his older sister, Kya.

One day, Kya came to visit and Tenzin told her all about your training and dedication to the craft despite not being an Airbender. When Kya observed your practicing, she could tell immediately you were struck with something emotionally tolling. Something you took Airbending techniques to work through but ended up avoiding.

She did the same thing with Waterbending when it came to a crush of hers.

Also, Kya overheard the Krew express concern and longing for you. More specifically, she saw the faces of Asami and Korra and how their eyebrows knitted together in hurt and confusion. It was the same face she wore when she found out Lin liked Tenzin.

"You need to talk to them," Tenzin spoke. "Avoidance or whatever you call this dance of yours isn't going to better your ability to meditate or to perform such exercises. In fact, it'll stifle your chances and ruin whatever you have left of your friendships." With a deep sigh, Tenzin put a hand on your shoulder. "Take this from someone who focused so hard on training that he almost lost his family. Isolation is not the key to working through hard emotions. You have to work and realize it's not going to be easy."

When your eyes met Tenzin's, you could see his brows downturned as if he was frowning with them. His eyes glossy yet held this certain look in his eye, as if he saw you as his own. His family.

The look stirred a certain guilt in your stomach. It was the same guilt you felt when you watched the Krew interact while you purposely lingered in the shadows. In hopes of bettering yourself, you ended up self-sabotaging.

"Hey!" Bolin chirped as he strode over to you and Tenzin. You quickly blinked away tears and looked at him with a smile, responding with a greeting. "We're going out to dinner tonight. You coming?"

-

Dinner was nearly normal. The five of you, the Krew and yourself, went to this fancy-ish restaurant where they served everything from Water Tribe food to Fire Nation goods. They also included the more modern dishes that Republic City had to offer.

It was like nothing had changed when you first ate. Everyone was chipper, happily munching on their meals, and cracking jokes like no time had passed between your group.

But then, just as you were almost done with your meal, the mood switched. A metaphorical cloud full of darkness and heavy rain washed over your booth and wind dared to blow you away from your seat.

Korra sighed, putting down her eating utensil and putting her hands on the table in an interlaced fist. "Okay, we have something we need to talk to you about." You barely looked at her to continue. "You've been kinda distant lately and we know it's not because of your training. Tenzin was adamant in easing the intensity of his training schedule, especially now with the new addition to the family and the new Airbenders."

You shrugged for what felt like the fiftieth time today. "I'm taking my craft really seriously. Is that a crime?"

"No," Asami said in a calmer tone that Korra could've given the sass you had in your sentence. "But it worries us. Especially now that you're not even attending Avatar duties anymore. We're a group and we need you. We're empty without you."

You threatened to scoff but instead shoved down the urge with another bite of your food. "I don't know what you want from me."

"Your training was supposed to help you ease up and not be as stressed but it looks like it's doing the opposite," Mako spoke. "You're distant, eat meals alone, and I've never seen someone train so hard for Airbending when you're not even an Airbender."

"Okay, so what? Look, it's my training, my schedule. You guys don't have a clue of what's going on with me so just drop it. Okay?"

Bolin glanced around his table of friends. Nervously picking at his pants, his eyes landed on you and gazed into your eyes. With a tone soft and gentle, he spoke. "So, something is going on."

You sat up a little straighter, eyes on the brown wooden table in front of you. You didn't realize you said that out loud. All that work of being alone and trying not to talk about your feelings nearly came undone with one measly slip-up. "No. Drop it."

"No, we don't want to drop it. What's going on? We can help you." Asami reached a hand out to you but you just snatched your hand away.

The Earthbender at the table sunk down in his seat. He knew what was going on now. He doesn't know why he forgot the last genuine conversation you had just a few months ago.

Your crush on Korra and Asami were eating you alive. What was supposed to be an outlet became a distraction. A distraction from the possibility of hurt, rejection, and loss. If he remembered this earlier, he wouldn't have suggested this confrontation dinner.

The only person who could help you in this situation is yourself and Bolin could see you didn't want that. Not anymore at least. You were perfectly fine losing your friends if it meant the protection of your relationship and feelings.

Although, it's a bit counteractive letting your friends slip away just to avoid a blowup over emotions you couldn't control. Bolin wasn't going to let that slide.

The Krew's been in messy romance drama before. What's a little more? They've prevailed over three times and they could do it again.

"I'm sorry," you took money from your pants and placed enough to cover your meal on the table, "but you can't help me with this. I'm sorry."

Following your departure, Bolin followed you out of the restaurant. Your friends exclaimed and called out for the both of you, but you were too far to hear and well Bolin, he was on a mission.

You stumbled behind yourself as Bolin took hold of your wrist and snatched you back. Your eyes met his, the orange-yellow lighting of the restaurant shining through the windows and making the sidewalk glow.

"You don't have to do this," Bolin spoke in a whisper. "You don't have to hide and pretend you're something you're not just to avoid rejection."

You pull your wrist out of his grip, your brows knitted defensively. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not avoiding anything."

"Please, I've seen it multiple times before. I lived it. The crushes you have on Korra and Asami won't change anything. They won't be weirded out or throw you out of the friendship if that's what you're worried about." The green in Bolin's eyes sought out to comfort you. As before, he kept his voice gentle and nurturing. "Crushes are scary and can leave you vulnerable but you shouldn't avoid your feelings because of it. You'll end up holding things in, the hurt turning into resentment, and the resentment turning into hate."

The Earthbender's palm found its place on top of your shoulder. Like his eyes, voice, and now touch, Bolin comforted you. His words, though similar to Tenzin's, had more meaning. You've seen Bolin get rejected before and heard horrific stories but he never let the embarrassment get to him. He learned, grew, and eventually got the partner of his dreams.

You patted his hand. "That means a lot. I'll try, okay? I can't promise it's going to be a good try, but I'll try and face my feelings instead of avoiding them and letting them turn into something ugly."

Bolin smiled, the joyous expression reaching his eyes. "Good. You won't regret it and you'll always have me to lean on. Don't forget that." Before you could say anything else, he pulled you in for a bear hug and lifted you off the ground.

Maybe Bolin was right. Facing your feelings head-on would make them less scary and who knows, maybe Korra and Asami would get a confession out of it.

To Be Continued. (Last part coming soon!) | Part One

WC: 3,569