#though both endings certainly have their appeal

[xuciferous]

i am a faust goes to heaven truther. btw

[skitterjitter]

the urge to resubscribe to WoW but I am not in a good enough financial situation to do so...sucks to me I guess

[mythalism]

You seem to be both a solavellan and mythal fan so maybe I won’t get shot for this question lol

Veilguard was my first game. I kept default settings, which meant solavellan world state.

I genuinely wonder: what makes people think Solas loves Lavellan? Or that if being with Mythal possible, he still would choose Lavellan?

He is so clearly not over Mythal. Last game is filled with references to their connection, she herself confirms that both still love each other. He is very protective of her while arguing with Elgarnan. Statues of them everywhere, him painting and playing songs about her, his very own room having statues of Mythal… In the end he discloses he does it all for her, refuses to stop after Lavellan’s appeals, and only does so after Mythal shows up.

In comparison, Solas describes what he had with Lavellan as “entanglement he selfishly grow close to” he both regrets and cherishes. Most of the romance is carried on Inquisitor’s shoulders, as she both explicitly tells what he means to her, reaches out to him and ultimately shares his burden of atonement.

I couldn’t understand why this ship was so popular, so I watched solavellan romance in DAI. And while it was beautifully done, having the context of Veilguard, I just keep seeing Mythal in every “we shouldn’t”/his face after balcony kiss/ultimately abandoning her in the end. It feels almost unfair and cruel for him to enter another relationship while his heart isn’t free. And to visit Lavellan’s dreams afterwards

What am I missing?

a lot of people would shoot you for this. but dont worry i am not one of them. be careful out there tho

i think the first thing i would say is that instead of watching a video, you would need to do play a full solavellan playthrough of the game if you do want to genuinely understand the relationship and why it is so beloved. im not sure which compilation you watched, but even one that includes all their conversations (rather than just the cutscenes, of which there are very few) cannot do the relationship justice. so much of understanding solas as a character and how he loves people, by extension, is wrapped up in how he reacts to the world at large, its people, its history, its institutions, and its metaphysics. assuming you're new to DA and wouldn't know this, solas's romance in inquisition is the shortest, most sparse romance in the game, and was added later in development. as a result, much of his essential characterization happens outside the bounds of romance content, but still adds deeper meaning, context, and depth to the relationship. even in terms of romance specific content, some of my favorite content occurs in banter that probably was not included in the video you watched. the solas romance is less a standalone love story, in the way many of the romances are, and more of a big juicy delicious cherry on top that helps you better understand the overall dragon age solas plot/cake you're eating.

theres a couple non-romance specific scenes that shed significant light on solas & mythal's dynamic from his perspective that i am not sure if you have seen and honestly i wouldnt recommend watching them because, again, i think you should just play inquisition and experience them in the proper context. but solas's companion personal quest is directly about his corruption at the hands of mythal, though we didn't know that until veilguard came out and contextualized it. and this quest pretty explicitly demonstrates how he feels about what she did to him: rage, beyond forgiveness, deserving of death. he also comments on her at the temple of mythal, and his comments are mostly neutral but verging on judgemental, and do illuminate that while he may have loved her, he certainly did not trust her. it is he who first clarifies that she was a goddess of vengeance, rather than justice. which i cant think about too long or else i'll get angry that they ret-conned it to benevolence -> retribution or whatever the fuck and erased the anders/justice/vengeance parallel... anyway

but i think more telling is his absolute refusal to drink from the well if asked, and most telling; how he fears for an inquisitor who drank.

he specifically calls mythal dangerous, arrogant, and fickle, absolutely refuses to submit to her will once again via the drinking of the well, and begs an inquisitor he loves not to do the same lest she suffer the same fate. he loves mythal, of course, but he also fears her. he is critical of her behavior and wary of her motivations. his love for her exists alongside his recognition of what she was.

another fairly vital bit of information is how according to trespasser (cole banter), solas used to wear mythal vallaslin until he burnt it off his own face when he developed his vallaslin removal spell. its how he got the little scar above his eyebrow. meaning, if vallaslin were slave markings, that solas was effectively enslaved to her. this is... pretty important context, obviously. but we never find out what it might have been like for him. veilguard.... didnt forget but rather deliberately ignored this because it wasnt willing to interrogate the issue of slavery which had been vital to solas as the leader of a slave rebellion. ugh. anyway.

this leads into my next point which is that veilguard really drastically changes solas's motivations to be far more mythal-centric than what was set up in inquisition/trespasser. we always knew something was up with them, and people always wondered if they might have been lovers, but veilguard goes in on this idea in a way that many people would actually call out-of-character compared to how he behaves in inquisition. veilguard itself though does present their relationship as rather complex though, in my opinion its one of the best parts of the game. the two moments that i chew on most frequently are the letter from felassan in mythal's weird little dragon pit that reveals how he made that island for her but locked it away when she was killed. and my ultimate fave is how she reveals that in the literal thousands of years she has been sitting there alone since her murder, many of which he was alive and fighting a rebellion partly in her name, and in the 12 years since he woke up from uthenera, he never went to visit her. not once. its giving jane eyre and i fucking love it. in this same conversation, she also says that when he killed flemeth, he wept. this, i think, is the crux of how he feels about her. he can barely look at her. he resents her. he will use her like he did anyone else. he loves her. he feels lost without her. he will never forgive her. he misses her. all of these things are true at once, and mythal seems to feel similarly; she loathes him. she understands him better than anyone. she resents him for betraying her and abandoning her. she calls him a pathetic little crybaby pussy ass bitch. she loves him.

i dont think anything you said in your message is necessarily wrong. i do think he loves mythal still. i think he always will. i think mythal is valid when she says that they have a bond that no one will ever understand. i agree he is protective over her. i also interpret their relationship as romantic though a lot of people do not. i just love drama. but i think you are misinterpreting his reluctance to be with lavellan as coming from his attachment to mythal as a person, rather than his attachment to his duty to what mythal represents - the world he ruined, everything he's ever done wrong. to say that solas would actually consciously choose mythal over lavellan if they were the final two contestants on the bachelorette is honestly, absurd. sorry. because actually he would choose neither, he would dramatically let the rose fall to the ground and run off to restore the elven people while chris hansen (felassan) dramatically runs after him. both women are secondary to him when it comes to the good of the entire world, and fixing what he broke. he has had plenty of moments to choose mythal and run away with her if he wanted. he has literally had her bertha-ing out in his crossroads attic for 10 years. he also literally does kill her via flemeth. which isnt to say that he wouldn't kill lavellan if forced to, i think he would. but the point here is that its not mythal vs. lavellan. its mythal vs. the world, and lavellan vs. the world. he should have chosen the world over mythal. he didnt. he created the blight instead. he destroyed everything. he cannot make the same mistake again, so he will choose the world every. single. time.

regardless, every time solas turns away from lavellan in the romance, he is not thinking "i wish you were her". he is thinking "if i do this to you, i have become her". prioritizing his own desires over the good of the world, stringing her along, using her as a tool to do his bidding (getting the orb back), are all things mythal did to him. he told her he would follow her anywhere. and when he begins to realize that lavellan would follow him anywhere (as she says in veilguard), he freaks out and has to end it. he knows he will have to continue to kill and cause destruction to bring his world back, so if he did allow her to join him in walking the dinan'shiral, or did anything other than break her heart and leave her, he would be corrupting her the way mythal corrupted him; a weapon to achieve his goal. but he refuses. in his mind, he already destroyed the world for love once; at mythal's behest. if he abandons the world for lavellan, he is destroying the world for love again, and making her an accomplice. so, every time he leaves her it is an act of love.

the way the inquisitor is the driving force of their romance is partly just... gameplay lol but its also consistent with the overarching theme of consent in a relationship that is fundamentally unethical and unequal. lavellan has to be the initiator or else solas becomes a predator. some would say he is anyway lol, but its clear much of the writing was designed to avoid this with the way he is constantly denying himself, backing away, trying not to give in. it might have been juicy, but for him to knowingly romantically and sexually pursue a young woman 10,000 years younger while lying to her about his identity and using her for his plans would make him an entirely different character. a character that would be a hit on romantasy booktok, but not solas. consent and ethics are so central to not only the relationship thematically, but to solas himself, and some of that is because of mythal and the inequality of their own past dynamic. solas is so passive in the romance not because he doesnt like this weird clingy bitch who wont leave him alone, but because he does not want to recreate the same dynamic that corrupted him into pride and uhhhh literally destroyed the world. i'll leave you with another essential quote that you may not have encountered yet:

Cole: It isn’t abuse if I ask! Solas: Not always true.

in trespasser, solas's duty to bring down the veil was more unambiguously to the elven people and the alleviation of his own crushing guilt, while mythal was collateral damage in his way and he used her like he would use anyone else (including lavellan loool) as a tool to achieve his goals. we see this when he kills flemeth and takes mythal's power. in veilguard they had to obscure this slightly to make him "less sympathetic", to use the devs own words. and they did this by shifting the crux of his motivations to mythal. i dont think his lap dog devotion is out of character, i adore it, but i hate that it came at the expense of his more complex and sympathetic motivations of saving the elven people and spirits from the damage of the veil. as a result, when looking at his behavior in the context of inquisition + trespasser + veilguard, i interpret it as mythal being symbolic of the destruction of the world at his hands. and not to toot my own horn but trick's interpretation that they shared on bluesky does support this, when they said that to solas, mythal represents the past and lavellan represents the future. ive written about his statement that it was all for mythal, and the tldr is that i think it is also supposed to be interpreted as symbolic and reflective of his psyche. but even if he did do it all for her, i dont think that necessarily negates his relationship with lavellan. he needs mythal to break the cognitive dissonance, alleviate his guilt, and release him, because she is the source of all of those things in the first place. lavellan could never break them because she is frankly irrelevant to those things. he is so caught up in his sunk-cost fallacy that he feels the only way is through. lavellan may not be able to break the hold the past has on him because she is separate from it, but she can offer him another path once it has been broken, a fork in the road he thought was straight; her, their future.

i think to say solas's heart is not free is a misunderstanding. he denies his heart's desire over and over, we see this clearly in the letter he sends to lavellan in veilguard that expresses how badly he wanted to put down his burden and stay with her. in his expressed reluctance to leave her in crestwood, how he refuses to lie and tell her it meant nothing. in "no matter what happens, i want you to know that what we had was real". his indulgent final kiss in trespasser. in "i will never forget you". its especially apt that you worded it this way and that vhenan means "my heart". if anything, his heart is the most free part of him. it is everything else that belongs to mythal: his body, created at her command. his path of destruction and ruin, which she set him on. his purpose, which she distorted from wisdom to pride. she, then, is the only one who can give it all back to him. and as soon as she does, he is free to prioritize his heart. and he quite literally does.

tldr; play inquisition <3

[sleepyjuice]

r u mine? — jj maybank

summary: you weren’t sure what to call you and jj. friends with benefits? a situationship? either way, the two of you certainly acted like more than friends.

word count: 4181

warnings: lowkey toxic!jj but we love him, jealousy, smut 18+!!!, unprotected p in v sex, squirting, creampie, some fluff

a/n: i am quite proud of this one so I really hope y’all like it! let me know what you think! <3

“Ugh, I hate that word.” You shook your head, taking a swig of your nearly lukewarm beer, grimacing at the skunked taste on your tongue.

“What else would you call it?” Sarah scoffed, raising her eyebrows inquisitively at you as she playfully shoved your knee.

“Hanging out, I don’t know…” you mumbled, your feet playing absently with the sand below you.

“Yeah, okay. It’s okay to call it what it is. A situationship.” Sarah grinned, nodding her head oh so matter of factly at you.

You and Sarah somehow ended up at a kook party. It just kind of happened. It had been awhile since the two of you had been to one, but seeing as the rest of your friends either had plans or were working, it was either this or another night at home, but the former somehow seemed only slightly more appealing.

You didn’t like labels, but if you had to pick one, you were a pogue. You were in a similar boat as Sarah and Kiara. Rich parents, but you hated nothing more than the snobby, ‘I’m so much better than you’ lifestyle the people on your side of the island lived by. By no means were you ungrateful for the life you were given. Your privilege was not ignored. But it was the country club luncheons and the uptight fakeness and the general attitudes of those you grew up around that you wanted no part of. So one day, you met Kiara, and the two of you clicked almost instantly, both of you finding solace in someone who shared the same views. Next up you met Sarah, and the three of you were inseparable. Your friendship was great until it wasn’t, and you and Kie found home in a group of boys from the cut while Sarah completely turned the other way.

But that was old news, history. Sarah came around, started macking on John b, and the three of you eventually made up. Shit happens.

So here you were, on your third beer, sitting on the beach next to Sarah, the full blown kook party going on only a few hundred feet behind you. The two of you tried to mingle, but that lasted for a total of about five minutes before you took advantage of several coolers stocked to the brim with beers, each of you grabbing a few cans before making your way down to the mostly empty beach in front of the Oceanside home holding the party.

You found comfort in the peace and tranquility of the ocean, the soft glow of the moonlight illuminating your senses could have very well brought you peace, if your phone wasn’t blowing up with messages every few minutes.

jj maybank: you really ain’t gonna text me back? got me over here double texting and shit??

jj maybank: knew you’d go back to full kook eventually. my lifestyle ain’t enough for you huh?

jj maybank: alright that was out of pocket I can’t lie my b

You and jj had gotten along since the second you met. Apparently Kiara had been hyping you up, because surprisingly, jj showed zero apprehension to letting another ‘kook’ join his circle. The attraction was also immediate, on both ends, but that took a bit longer to come out. Shared glances weren’t uncommon, neither were legs brushing against each other on the boat, even though there was more than enough room for the two of you to sit apart.

You and jj were friends for about a month before you hooked up the first time. It wasn’t anything crazy, you were both drunk and horny and one thing led to another. It was sloppy and pretty quick. But instead of it being a one and done deal, it kept happening, no alcohol involved.

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment where it went from purely sex to more, but it just happened. You and jj would spend time alone without the rest of your friends, cuddling on the couch at the chateau while everyone was out, or you calling jj late at night sobbing after a particularly nasty argument with your parents, which led to him climbing through your bedroom window and staying the night, sneaking out before you woke up the next day. Since that night, you would keep your bedroom window cracked ever so slightly, and most nights, like clockwork, jj would make the familiar climb up and through the window to be with you. Sometimes this led to sex, but other times it didn’t. That’s why it was weird.

You had both agreed that you weren’t in a relationship. jj for one didn’t want to commit, and you didn’t either. Several shitty relationships prior to meeting jj would taint your view on love. So it seemed like you were on the same page, but both of your actions proved otherwise.

This is why it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence that jj was currently blowing up your phone. For two people who are not in a relationship, you both had your fair share of jealousy issues. But you shouldn’t, because you’re not in a relationship.

“He’s freaking out right now,” you groaned, turning to Sarah with an exasperated sigh as your eyes glazed over the messages on your phone, “he’s mad that I’m not responding and that I’m here, but he knows it’s Kelce’s birthday party and so he assumes Jake is here since they’re best friends… but he’s acting like I’m gonna do something, like are you serious?” You vented, finishing off the last few drops of your beer.

Jake was your most recent ex. Total asshole. You cringed every time you thought about your time shared together, hating the fact that you ever gave him the time of day. He was overly preppy, but also overly possessive, yet he still cheated on you. Imagine that.

“He’s mad about Jake?!” Sarah gaped, leaning in closer to you as she glanced down at your phone, not missing the texts flooding through from jj.

“That’s what I’m saying… I hate him, and it’s not like I’m gonna cheat on him —“

“Ah, you can’t cheat on someone you’re not dating.” Sarah hummed, shaking her head at you.

“Ugh, you know what I mean. This situationship bullshit is so stupid. But either way, that’s a valid point. Not only do I want nothing to do with Jake, but even if I did, jj isn’t my boyfriend, so he shouldn’t even be mad,” you rambled, pausing for a moment before looking back down to your phone, “yeah, no, that’s a good point, that’s what I’m gonna say.” You mumbled as you began typing out a response to jj’s multitude of texts.

you: you say it’s about the kooks but seems to me like it’s one kook in particular you’re mad about

you: yeah, jake is here. I ain’t dumb jj, you’re transparent as fuck lmao

you: also I’m just trying to figure out why you’re mad bc you know I hate him but even if I wanted him, why would that be your problem? We’re not dating soooo??

you: have a good night at work! <3

You locked your phone, but not before putting it on do not disturb and shoving it in the back pocket of your denim shorts.

“Oh, well now he’s gonna lose his shit even more.” Sarah giggled, having watched you type out your messages.

“I don’t care, let him. He’s pissing me off.” You shrugged, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t help but laugh along with Sarah. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the thought of jj freaking out with jealousy over you made your stomach tingle. Just a little bit though…

An hour had passed since you had texted jj and you haven’t checked your phone once. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the slightest bit curious to see his response, but your stubbornness was strong, outweighing your curiosity for the time being. The four beers in your system helped too, lightening up your overall mood and somewhat helping you forget about jj for a little while.

You were only a little tipsy at this point, but you and Sarah had mutually agreed to call it a night and start your trek home.

You both felt generally safe walking home. Streets were pretty well lit and it was figure 8, all the drunk creepy frat guys you had to worry about were down the street at the party.

“Hey, text me when you get home, okay? And keep me updated on jj whenever you check your phone. I’m honestly surprised he didn’t show up at Kelce’s after that exchange.” Sarah giggled as the two of you approached her house, giving her a quick hug goodbye and promising to update her. You only lived one street away from her, and she had plans with John b early the next morning so you decided to not sleepover this time.

You continued your journey home after seeing that Sarah had made it inside safely, sighing to yourself as the soft island breeze gently blew against your face, cooling down your slightly flushed cheeks.

You arrived home only five minutes later, tiptoeing through your dark home so as to not wake your sleeping parents, humming softly to yourself once you made your way upstairs and into your bedroom, pulling your shirt over your head and letting it fall onto the floor before fishing your phone out of your back pocket and tossing it onto the bed as you went to unbutton your shorts.

“Oh, so you do have a phone.”

You gasped, nearly screaming as you scrambled to flip your lights on, immediately spotting jj laid back on your bed, hands behind his head as he leaned seemingly comfortably against your headboard.

“jj what the fuck?!” You whisper yelled, wishing more than anything that your parents weren’t home so you could truly yell at him. You didn’t have to question how he got in, though. You had left your window cracked like you always did, as jj would have more than likely came over tonight anyways, but that was before you had started bickering over text. He had done this before, too, surprising you in your bedroom while you were at work or out with friends, coming home to the boy waiting for you in your bed.

“You put your shit on ‘do not text’ or whatever and I couldn’t get ahold of you. I was going to go straight to Kelce’s party, but I took a moment to consider the fact that that wouldn’t be a good idea, so I decided to wait for you here. Were you just gonna ignore me all night?” He sat up once you had acknowledged his presence, his hands playing with one of your pillows as he looked at you.

“First of all, it’s ’do not disturb’ and second, you were blowing up my shit and being annoying. Therefore, you were disturbing me.” You rolled your eyes, feeling jj’s eyes on you as you grabbed a sleep shirt from your closet and pulled it over your head before sitting on the edge of your bed as you worked to untie your shoes.

“Why do you do this to me?” jj whispered after a few moments of silence, scooting himself closer to where you were sat.

“What am I doing to you, jj?” You asked, not looking at him as you removed your first shoe, now untying the other.

“You — fuck. You make me fuckin’ crazy. I don’t like that I feel like this.” He muttered, and you could feel by the movements in the bed that he was anxiously adjusting and readjusting his hat, an anxious tick you had picked up quite early in your friendship with him.

“I make you crazy?” You questioned, your brows raising as you kicked off your other shoe and finally turned to look at the boy sat behind you on your bed.

“Yeah, and I hate it. Got me… got me checking my phone every two seconds to see if you texted me, fuckin’ — picturing you with that douchebag ex of yours… literally has my heart pounding. Like I can’t think about anything else.” He admitted, and you couldn’t miss the way his knee was shaking anxiously, his fingers playing absently with your blanket, yet he still kept his gaze on you.

“jj…” you breathed, your voice softening now. You felt for him. You knew it wasn’t easy for him to express his feelings, and you didn’t want to dismiss the way he was feeling just because you had argued. You would also be lying if you said you wouldn’t be jealous if he was around his ex all night… but you can blame that on your shitty past relationships, not because you didn’t want jj around girls he used to call his… definitely unrelated.

“Listen, I get what you’re saying, okay?” You sighed, slowly placing your hand on his bouncing knee. “But… we aren’t dating. We’re just friends who sleep together, you know?” You added quietly, hating the words that left your mouth, but it was the truth. There was no gentle way to say it.

“You’re right, you’re right. But let me just,” he reached for your hand over his knee, moving it to your side, “let’s just not talk about that right now, okay?” He licked his bottom lip, his hands now finding your thighs, rubbing the soft skin slowly, his fingertips inching their way up past the top of your shorts and underneath your shirt.

You didn’t speak as he took a hold of the bottom of your shirt, lifting the fabric over your head, leaving you completely bare from the waist up. You didn’t protest, your body heating up at his touch like it always did. He let out a long breath as he took in the sight of you before him, his hands quickly grabbing your tits, squeezing the soft flesh in his calloused hands, causing your back to arch slightly, your lips parting as an almost inaudible gasp left your lips.

His eyes found yours quickly following your reaction and you nodded at him, no words spoken between the two of you as you fully gave into his touch, crawling all the way onto your bed and scooting yourself back towards your pillows.

“So pretty..” he cooed, his fingers pinching your hard nipples, making you whimper softly, fully giving into him. You reached forward, pulling his hat off of his head and tossing it onto the floor alongside your shirt, your fingers entangling in his messy locks as you pulled him closer to you, wrapping your legs around his middle, bringing his face right up to yours before you connected your lips.

You hummed into the familiar feeling of your soft lips against his, and only a few seconds passed before your mouths had both parted and your tongues were moving sloppily together, his soft groans sending vibrations into your mouth and through your body, your core feeling even hotter and wetter as the seconds passed.

His hands continued to toy with your tits, but they eventually began to trail down your stomach, unbuttoning your shorts blindly as you continued to kiss. You lifted your hips up as he tugged the denim down your legs, leaving you in just your underwear.

You opened your mouth in protest when he suddenly pulled away from the kiss, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you caught your breath, about to say something about him pulling away but stopping once you watched as he pulled his shirt over his head, and your attention was now turned to his naked torso.

“Shh, I got you, I got you.” He murmured, his hands now tugging the zipper of his cargo shorts down, ridding himself of his shorts entirely, the two of you now only in underwear. Your eyes flew immediately to the ever present bulge in his boxers, and you didn’t miss the wet spot right where the tip of his dick was, no doubt leaking precum. You had almost an identical wet spot in your underwear as well, your arousal practically dripping out of you as each second passed, eager for his touch.

“jj, please.” You grumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lowered himself back down to you, your lips connecting again, this time moving a lot quicker and more sloppily than only moments ago. Your centers both connected within seconds, you bucking your hips up to grind against him and him grinding himself down against you. Who had gone for it first, who knew. You were certainly on the same page.

“Please what, baby? Hm?” He breathed, holding himself up above you with only one hand as his other wriggled its way between your bodies and down to your wet core, fingers barely even teasing at the waistband before he slipped them inside, cupping your pussy.

“Fuck —“ you moaned, shamelessly grinding yourself against his hand, desperately aching for more of him. The feeling of just his hand had you crumbling, any thoughts of your disagreement from earlier were long gone and forgotten in this moment.

“Use your words, baby. You want my fingers?” He questioned, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, yes, please. Touch me.” You answered immediately, and that was all it took for him to yank your underwear down your legs and push his middle finger inside of you, effortlessly sliding into your slick yet tight walls. Your head fell back onto your pillow, a long exhale leaving your swollen lips as he pumped his finger quickly, adding a second after you began to adjust.

“Goddamn, you’re fuckin’ soaked, woman.” He spoke lowly, quickening his pace once he found a good rhythm, curling his fingers into your g-spot, emitting soft whimpers and curses from your lips, you still being half mindful of your sleeping parents down the hall.

The sight of jj’s furrowed brows and parted pink lips had your stomach turning, and you watched as he watched intently at the sight of his fingers moving in and out of your pussy, a look of concentration mixed with arousal evident upon his features. That and the spots his fingers had found inside of you had you crumbling quickly, your fingertips that were lazily resting in his hair now gripped tightly into his locks, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your orgasm approaching quickly.

“jj, gonna cum, oh fuck, oh — oh god.” You panted, head flat on your pillows now as you felt him quicken his pace, hearing his own moans as you pulled on his hair.

“Yeah, let go for me, baby, come on now.” He urged, and that was all it took for you to let go, your orgasm hitting you at full force. He quickly shot his free hand up to your face to cover your mouth, quieting your loud cries of pleasure. He loved the sound of your sweet moans, but being caught by your parents would be less than ideal. You cried into his palm, your juices gushing out of you and all over jj’s hand and torso, dripping down and soaking his stomach and boxers.

“Oh fuck, that’s right, so good, so good, huh?” He cooed, his fingers slowing down as you rode out your high, uncovering your mouth once you had fully finished and planting several soft kisses all over your parted lips as you worked to catch your breath.

You lifted your head after a moment, your eyes opening to meet his hungry gaze, untangling your fingers from his hair to reach for his boxers. You needed more of him.

“Need you now.” You spoke, voice still a bit shaky as you had just caught your breath. You removed his boxers with his help, his leaking cock springing free from the restraint of the tight fabric. Your mouth watered at the sight, watching as he pumped himself slowly, finally giving himself some relief.

“Need me inside you, sweet girl? Hm?” He licked his bottom lip as you nodded eagerly, a smug grin present on his lips at your neediness. You didn’t care, he could be cocky after the orgasm he just gave you. He could have his moment.

“Please. Please fuck me.” You pleaded, pushing your hips up to rub yourself against his cock. He groaned at the contact, giving himself a few more pumps before tapping his tip against your sensitive clit, causing you to gasp and push your thighs together purely out of reflex.

“Ahh, keep those legs open for me. Gotta open up so I can fuck you, sweet thing.” He tisked, pushing your thighs open with his free hand, positioning his cock against your entrance, slowly pushing himself in. Once halfway inside, his hand trailed down from your thigh to grab your ankle, lifting your leg to wrap around his back, quickly doing the same with your other leg.

Finally getting you positioned like he wanted, he pushed himself all the way in, jaw going slack once he bottomed out, grunting at the depth he reached inside of you.

“Fuuckkk,” he breathed, his messy hair falling onto his forehead as he looked down at the two of you, fully connected. He inhaled sharply before he began moving, struggling to keep his eyes open as your tight pussy hugged his cock perfectly. But he wanted to watch you, that was one of the best parts.

You did everything in your power to not scream, his cock immediately hitting all the right spots inside of you, his pelvis hitting your clit with every thrust. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning however, your arms wrapping around his neck to hold you up, keeping your body somewhat up. Your fingernails found home in the soft skin of his back, each trust and movement he made surely forming scratches into the skin.

“So good, so good,” he moaned, sweat beading past his hairline as he found the perfect pace, his balls slapping your ass as his cock disappeared inside of you, “you’re fucking perfect, yeah, oh fuck.” He breathed shakily, almost whining as you squeezed your legs tighter around his torso, his body pushing closer to you if possible, his dick hitting deep inside your wet pussy.

You were a mess beneath him. The tension throughout the night and the way he was fucking you perfectly was not doing anything to prolong your orgasm. But you could feel by the way he pulsated inside of you that he wasn’t going to last long either.

“Shit, I’m close, baby. Where d’you want me to cum?” He asked, slowing his thrusts for a moment as he attempted to gain composure of himself, wanting to give you one last orgasm before he finished.

You didn’t even hesitate before responding.

“Inside.” You answered, eyes looking up to meet his.

He cocked his head in confusion, stilling his movements following your words, almost unsure if he had heard you correctly.

“Don’t fuck with me —“

“I’m not, jj. Please. Want you to cum inside me.” You assured him, pushing your hips up, urging him to move again.

“You… okay.” He resumed his movements, each thrust bringing both you and him closer to the edge.

“Oh fuck jj, I’m gonna cu-“

“Say you’re mine.” He cut you off, not stopping his movements, his breathing was shaky but his voice was steady, and he was serious.

“What?” You panted, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Say you’re mine.” He repeated himself, soft grunts following his words as he watched your face below him.

You knew what he was saying, and maybe it was the impending orgasm, or maybe it was the fact that you had never felt this way with anyone before him. Maybe after you said it and you both finished you would both get hit with that post nut clarity and go back on your words, but you could figure all of that out later. You could be his. You wanted to be his.

“I’m yours.” You spoke, and that was all it took for him to reach his end, his balls tightening, thrusts sloppy but still quick as he released inside of you in hot spurts, his face falling forward as he moaned, triggering your own release.

The wet sounds of his cock pushing into your cum filled pussy filled the room, his movements slowing down as you both rode out your highs together, eventually stopping completely before he slowly pulled himself out of you.

His cum leaked out of you almost immediately, but jj was quick to reach over the side of the bed and grab his shirt, placing it under your leaking pussy.

“Shit,” he breathed, rubbing your lower stomach gently as your bodies both began to relax, leaning down to kiss your swollen lips gently.

“You still mine?” He asked after a few moments of silence, mentally preparing himself for your rejection, nervous you had only said that in the heat of the moment. He meant what he said though.

“Mhm, I’m still yours.”

[arciam]

Deep Dive:

Jayce vs. Romance

(Or, Part 7½ of the "Underrated JayVik" meta series.)

I did say all the way back in part 7 that I might write a separate post about my perception of Jayce when it comes to romantic relationships, so that's what this is.

Obviously, this character-read is very informed by the notion of JayVik being a thing - because, y'know, so is my read of the show - so to start with, we'll have to take the following things for granted for the sake of argument:

Jayce is not straight (I'm not opposed to the idea of a cosmic love which transcends gender, I just don't think it has to be "only" that - we can have both you know)

Jayce's feelings for Viktor, at least by the end of the show, are romantic in nature and Jayce is aware of it (how him and those feelings get there is one topic of this meta)

I will extrapolate a lot from how Jayce behaves in his relationship with Mel, seeing as there are very limited points of reference otherwise

All of this is a personal hypothesis, not a claim to truth

And, if at any point you get the impression I'm talking about a character who might be on the spectrum here, I'm not saying that, but I'm not not saying that iykyk

Now, with all that out of the way:

1. Let me first tell you the story of a nerdy kid

Born into a lower House of toolmakers in the elite part of the city, this young man attends the prestigious academy as - essentially - "the poorest rich kid", where his only friend just might be the teenage daughter of his high-society patrons (who, by the way, are the only other people he will think to turn to outside of his family before deciding to end his life).

He's both a handy and a cerebral guy who has spent most of his life in single-minded pursuit of an outlandish (and also... quite illegal) idea. Everything in his life revolves around it; he hangs tapestries of magicians on his walls and fills his windowsill with interesting crystals he found. He travels to deserts and conducts covert research with dubious equipment, all in hopes of making his singular dream a reality.

So, if his lower status or the weird vibes of his hyperfixation didn't make him a loner, then the necessary secrecy surrounding his special interest certainly would.

(...At the same time, however, he just so happens to also be tall, built, conventionally attractive and carry himself with confidence - so when we as the audience first meet him, we kinda assume that he would be a popular person who has it all, though only because we're conditioned to assume so of people who, well, are like that. Also, the show does a clever thing by first introducing him to us bantering with a pretty girl who appears impressed by him, before we learn of their sibling-like relationship.)

Now, why do I say all of this when it has nothing much to do with romance?

Because this is the boy Jayce never stopped seeing in himself.

A nerd always tinkering away on his model railways in the basement by himself, essentially. He doesn't lack self-esteem necessarily; he is comfortable with who he is and confident in his cause, but he does rather see himself as the odd one out.

Even as the show goes on, despite his charm, his looks, his eloquence and talent for public speaking, I don't feel like Jayce ever truly realises the power and the appeal of him. He knows it tends to "work" whenever he takes the floor (and he is absolutely thrilled with the positive response), but I feel like it's a skill he steps into like a pair of dress shoes, more so than something he views as an innate part of who he is.

2. Boy meets girl - and boy (in one night!)

✨Pop quiz!✨

What happens when the guy who considers himself the least eligible bachelor in the room meets the two - in his eyes - coolest, sharpest, most capable and most admirable people he's ever seen?

(Or more importantly, when those same people express an interest in him and the singular thing his whole life revolves around?)

Well, essentially this:

Sorry, wrong image.

This:

This leads me to headcanon #1 regarding Jayce's relationships with other people:

Anytime any person Jayce looks up to tells him he's a good boy so much as gives him the time of day, he is thrilled.

3. So about that windfall...

Irrespective of all of what I just said though, Jayce also strikes me as a guy who... while definitely not uninterested in having a romantic relationship, doesn't ever actively go for people in a romantic way (or physical, for that matter).

And y'know, case in point is really just how my girl did all of that

yet not only is Mel still required to close the entire gap all by herself in the end, but even in moments where Jayce might recognise her flirtation, you just never see any gears turning in his head like "maybe I should do something about this".

(I remember actually laughing out loud when in episode 4, Mel sways her hips at Jayce asking "To what do I owe the pleasure~?", and for a moment, as Jayce hesitates, I obviously assumed he would pick up on the suggestiveness in some way - if only as recognition on his face -, only for him to go "It's Heimerdinger..." Like, literally the least sexy thing to possibly say in that moment. 😂)

This is why I previously described Jayce as a guy to just kind of... roll with the punches in situations like that.

Though less flatteringly, in conversation I have also likened him to the specific breed of man in real life who "seem content to let themselves be picked up like windfall" - not particularly choosey about who gets to do so and instead opting mostly for the path of least resistance, romance-wise.

Which brings us to headcanon #2:

Jayce - while a highly emotional person who is not afraid to show it - doesn't tend to consciously concern himself with and think about his feelings, what they mean, or where his romantic interests lie, really. He's mostly just along for the ride.

4. By God it's Mel Medarda with a steel chair..!

Now, what do you get when you combine these factors into one character?

Well in this specific case, you get Jayce Talis who - when one of the most capable and admirable people he knows decides, for some reason, that she wants a piece of him - is more than happy to oblige and be with an amazing person. He's just thrilled to be there, basically.

Congrats, Mel - you've managed to push through Jayce's complete lack of response to your advances and unlocked his rare "love-starved boyfriend" skin as a reward!

...So what about Viktor, then?

Well.

He didn't.

As I mentioned in the original post as well, my personal JayVik pet theory is such that "if at any point during their partnership Viktor had made a move first, I do believe Jayce would have put up the equal amount of resistance he did with Mel, so... zero."

(And when I say "move" I mean MOVE - again, nothing short of a smacker or outright love confession would have been enough to spark Jayce into action yet at that point.)

If we're taking the idea that Jayce is "not straight" for granted (which we are), then looking at both Mel and Viktor through Jayce's eyes, I honestly don't believe Mel ever had that much over Viktor in terms of being a viable romantic option - other than the simple fact that she is the one who claimed that spot.

Or, as @glassvines wrote in response to the original post: "Viktor had all the cards...but none of the confidence".

5. Now go sit in the corner and think about what you've done

So yeah, that's tragic and all, but then how do we get to this point?

"Now, all I want... is you."

(Oh hush, don't pretend this is not what that line actually means.)

Point being, if Jayce - while he might not have refused Viktor and may have been equally happy to "oblige" - never consciously considered his own desires and wouldn't have actively pursued a relationship not explicitly handed to him... then what happened for him to end up here, dishing out banger after banger of quotable love confessions which contain the clear message of "I have made my choice, and it's you"?

...Well, in a way I sorta gave it away with the very first image of this post, didn't I.

Oh, what a timeout in the naughty corner can do to set a guy's priorities straight...

With Jayce spending weeks in stark isolation at the bottom of a ravine in the most extreme allegory of "getting locked in a room with someone until you talk it out" (except the guy you're locked in with is you), this proves to be an absolutely crucial time of introspection for him in a multitude of ways.

It's where he faces the wrong turns he took, realises that Heimerdinger was always right about the Arcane's corruption, and recognises the ways in which Mel had used and manipulated him.

It's also where he finally realises what - who - was most important to him all along, and in what way.

(The first three, you can glean from the voice lines played over the scene by the way, in case you're wondering.

So is that last bit just me making stuff up, then? No - it's an interpretation for sure, but not a fabrication. See, the shot of Mel's image burning away before Jayce and giving way to Viktor's instead is not only interesting for drawing yet another parallel between them, but also for being a shot that is otherwise out of place with the voice lines. For instance, there are several lines from Heimerdinger, yet Jayce doesn't envision him; there are none from Viktor - a striking absence in and of itself -, yet he does appear.

If nothing else, what this tells us is that this shot is - mostly - detached from Jayce's other epiphanies that I specified above. At which point, if you then take the shot by itself and purely at face value, it does become a... surprisingly candid symbolism really, if you ask me.)

To be clear though: The preference was always there.

After all, Jayce had previously already recognised that his place had always been with Viktor. Also he did dip out of Mel's bed to go see Viktor before he could have even known Viktor was sick that one time, so...

He just hadn't really thought about what that meant.

But lo and behold, it only took a stint in boyfailure jail for Jayce to consciously come to the realisation of not only that, but also that he is, in fact, not content to be windfall about whom he pledges his love and loyalty to anymore.

He wants to close the gap this time.

And to think: all of that even before he learned that Viktor was also the cause of his lifelong special interest in the first place like whaaaat. Imagine the day he must be having...

Jokes aside though; obviously, there is something to be said about Jayce meeting mage!Viktor and finally understanding - as I pointed out in part 13 - just how much Viktor truly needs him, and this perhaps being the final piece of the puzzle for Jayce to realise his priorities as well.

It would have made this post even longer though, and not even added very much, since I do believe multiple things can be true at once here.

Part 1/2/3/4/5/6/7/7½/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20

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[pocketmania]

Hihihii i recently got REALLY got into Ena, and i been wondering how about Ena with a girly reader? (Gender of your choice!)

Like someone's very pastel pink, wears frilly stuff and maybe even coquette? I dunno i thought it would be cute since it's kinda of my own aesthetic ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

(Changing up the formatting a bit lol, my commentary is now a lil further down. Still labeled [a/n] though✨️)

# ENA w/ a Girly!Reader

> [A/N]

Hellooo 🎀 anon! I'm very glad you got into ENA! Trust me, you'll love every second of it lol

Also, don't be sorry about the emojis, I usually conjure them from what people describe for me to write lol. But great idea! Alsoooo I'm very sorry if this is poor Aha ^^

Now onto the thingy

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

> [Details]

(🌙🎭👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨💭) - ENA headcanons + scenario

(reader type) - gender neutral; girly and feminine

(‼️warnings) - none

(quick summary) - Headcanons about ENA dating a very girly Reader.

✦ First things first: lemme just announce that ENA loves your style

✦ She compliments something about your outfit every day... in her own strange way

❝ (Y/N), you are certainly manifesting the looks of a celebrity once again! ❞

✦ She often finds things on her adventures that she believes would suit you! For example, if she ever finds something like a pink bunny novelty, she is gunning in your direction to show you

✦ It took you a while, but you are now one of the only people who don't change her name to say "MENA" or "TENA" or something else

✦ People are surprised but understanding when you say you two are dating, specifically because of how different your aesthetics and vibes are

✦ Despite this, you two have somewhat similar personalities

✦ As in: you both are silly and whimsical and goofy

❝ My beloved! I have kidnapped this wonderful little specimen with consent, and I was wondering if you would like to wrap your eyeballs around it with me! ❞

❝ Oh, ENA! I would be honored! ❞

✦ And then you two stare at an hourglass dog with cool shades for the next hour

✦ You guys like to paint each other's nails (or whatever ENA has that is the equivalent) while telling silly little nonsensical stories

✦ There is barely a time when she is not seen gushing about you, bragging that she has a pretty significant other

✦ If you want, ENA will sometimes match outfits with you! Though, she would admit, it'd be different than what she's used to. But, she'd do anything for you

✦ With that said, fashion shows are not uncommon

✦ Seeing you instantly boosts her mood and sometimes even helps with her episodes

✦ ... Sometimes

✦ ENA has introduced you to all of her friends. They all may not like you, but they definitely like your style

✦ You have soooo many perfumes. 80% of which ENA bought with all of the fatty caddies she had

✦ If you're someone who really doesn't like to get very dirty (considering your outfits are usually full of pink and white), ENA will waste no time in doing all of the filthy work

✦ ENA's way of speaking is what had you head over heels. For her, it was your appealing taste in fashion paired with how friendly you were compared to everyone else she meets

✦ (You were able to look past the fact that she was an ENA)

✦ In fact, that's how you two met

✦ Lemme set the scene...

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Y'know, this is the reason you don't attend cult dances much.

A wicked event, this was. Everyone was dancing as though it was the end of the world, and they had no care about it. Unfortunately, partying so hard can eliminate a person's sense. And everyone here was certainly, and unfortunately, senseless. Messes were everywhere, and you were ready to abandon this place temporarily; you were ready for bed.

You obviously aren't a coward, but you and grime had a rough history, and you'd rather not continue it. Runas forbid you go one day without ending up completely covered in mud and dirt. Why that happens so much, you're not sure. Maybe keeping clean is a pet peeve.

As you were making yourself a clean path, a dual-colored girl walks up to you. It seems as though she just got here as she's not as wasted or entranced by the music as everyone is... Or at least you thought she wasn't. She grins and begins to dance in a rather funny way. "Goodnight! My pal Moony seems to have misplaced me, and these walls are... rather unforgiving," She explains with joy in her voice, contrasting her explanation. "I would be forever grateful if you could help me locate her!"

You just went through an entire rollercoaster of emotions. First relieved at how she was different from the others, then confused as you thought you were wrong, then... intrigued. You didn't know why, but the way this funny woman spoke piqued your interest. Even though she was clearly an ENA, you couldn't help but not be offended by her mere presence. As if to sell you on her natural "charisma", she does a small curtsy and beams at you once more. "Might I say your taste in style is quite edible! I'm sure everyone would love to steal a bite."

Okay, that sold you.

You returned the curtsy and did a comical little spin, showing off your pink skirt and sweater that you had specially picked out for this party. "But of course! I attract even the most obscure foodies." You boasted, now feeling more confident. You stood upright and pointed at her, mimicking her odd, slanted stance. "For an ENA, you sure do lack salt in those bones. Come on, let's go and find your companion!"

Her eyes lit up as she twirled in triumph. She explained what "Moony" looked like to you, and you set out, helping her find her friend. Unlike you, ENA didn't mind getting her hands very dirty and was kind enough to make a clean path for you. How sweet you thought. Maybe she was unlike the rest as you had first thought?

Whatever the case, the night turned out better than you expected. You managed to befriend someone here and got to start a streak of keeping your outfits whatever shade they had started out with. Maybe this party wasn't doomed for extinction after all.

[atlabeth]

I desperately need you to give me some jealous nikolai lanstov I'm not even jokinh

my love mine all mine

lowkey continuation of bad luck and im with you; can be read standalone though!

pairing: nikolai lantsov x fem reader

summary: after your return to ravka, nikolai's resolve is tested at a ball.

a/n: i have saved this ask since september because i knew one day i would get around to it. i love nikolai lantsov and i dont write jealous fics often so here we go!! this is technically a continuation of bad luck and im with you but you can read it separately. i keep going back to these two for some reason lmao?? idk. theyre childhood friends to lovers with so much strife in between and that's so special to me lmao. but yah enjoy i MISSED WRITING FOR HIM<3

wc: 2.8k

warning(s): nikolai is a lil jealous obviously! small bit of angst, mostly fluff, lil steamy at the end.

Nikolai feels his lip curling, feels his hand tighten on his glass. 

This is a party. A ball, more specifically, but a celebration nonetheless. He should be smiling, mingling, talking up some baron or duke in the name of Ravka’s economy. He is a prince, after all—a bastard, second son of a prince that plans to take the throne at that—and he’s just returned from years at sea. It is in his best interest to do what he does best and talk as much as possible. If anything, he should be arm in arm with the Sun Summoner to boost both their positions. 

But all he can do is stare at you. 

You’re the embodiment of grace. Your practiced smile looks wholly genuine no matter how long you have to keep it up. Your laugh seems to make others smile without even realizing, ringing out clear like church bells. It’s a sound Nikolai knows he would worship to the end of his days, at least. 

You stand in the midst of noblemen and Nikolai only recognizes one—Artem Aslanov, a son of nobles that the two of you spent much of your youth with. He wonders if you remember each other as well. He certainly seems to, the way he stands just a bit too close to you, the way he’s absolutely eager for your attention. Nikolai holds back a scoff. 

The others are likely from various other Ravkan settlements, though one has to be Kaelish, with his almost offensively ginger hair. 

Not that any of it matters, though. Not one of them can tear their eyes away from you as you talk, magnetic with both your words and inherent charm, and they drink up every bit of your presence. 

Something stirs inside Nikolai at the sight. Logically, he knows he has little to worry about—he knows this is your duty as much as it is his, and you care little for any man’s affections but his. 

But Saints, his heart does not want to listen to silly things such as logic. In this moment, Nikolai is reminded of the truth at its barest—you’re a noblewoman of good breeding, quite extravagant wealth, and considerable beauty. Your years at sea have caused you to develop a quick wit and sharp tongue, and it only serves to make you more appealing.

Your flashy return to Ravka has made you perhaps the most desirable lady at court, and Nikolai is forced to realize he no longer has you all to himself anymore. 

Nikolai has planned to come back and take the Lantsov throne for years now, but he can’t help but long for those days again. Teaching you all the ins and outs of the Volkvolny, how to do every sailor’s knot he knows, showing you the misty mountains of the Wandering Isle and the rolling fields of Novyi Zem and the wonderful world outside of Ravka’s courtly constraints. 

Taking over the ships of slavers and clashing blades with drüskelle and watching a thousand sunrises and sunsets together, unbound by anything but tangled up in every part of each other. 

It was almost laughable. You were worried of Nikolai charming others upon your return, and yet here he was, unable to look away from you for even the slightest second because he was jealous of some noble son.

“Your Highness, are you alright?” 

Nikolai turns back to the conversation he is meant to be paying attention to, already offering a smile that he hopes will make up for his utter lack of focus. Of course, he doesn’t really care what this Kerch merchant thinks of him, and Nikolai’s word will probably mean little to his parents at the moment. They’re still quite angry at him for all his Sturmhondish escapades. This man, whose name he has already forgotten, doesn’t seem to know he’s wasting his time. 

“Of course I am,” he says, and he pats him on the shoulder. He means to say more, but then he catches a glance of Artem pulling you to the side, his hand lingering on your waist much too close for comfort. He’s surprised he doesn’t break his glass with how his fingers clench around it even tighter.  

“Then I would be honored for you to consider my—” 

“I apologize, Jansen.” Nikolai ignores the look on his face at both his interruption and being called the wrong name as he drops his hand. “It’s been wonderful chatting with you, but I’m afraid I must take my leave.” 

Nikolai departs before he can get another word out. He’s sure he’ll get an earful later for his ‘disrespect’ but again, he really could not care less. 

He expects to have to weave his way through the crowd, but a path parts for him wherever he moves. Benefits to being a Lantsov prince rather than another privateer on the sea, he supposes. He feels a number of eyes on him as he walks, but he’s focused on one thing and one thing only. 

Artem seems to be as well, seeing as he doesn’t even look up while he continues talking to you. Nikolai doesn’t blame him for being enraptured, but he does wonder what he thinks that boorish smile will do to you. 

Nikolai exclaims your name as he comes up next to you, sliding his arm around your waist like he’s done a thousand times before and claiming his place at your side. “I’ve been looking for you, milaya. You’ve been awfully popular tonight.”

Your gleaming gaze turns to him and Nikolai feels like he can melt. It doesn’t matter how many times you look at him—not even Alina can muster up something to rival your brightness. 

“Nikolai!” 

Again, the way you say his name makes him weak at the knees. The poshness of your Ravkan faded while you were at sea around common sailors and vagrants, and though he can tell you’re trying your best to hide it in the name of courtly etiquette, it still bleeds through. He adores your accent, how it shows the woman you’ve become rather than the girl you ran away from. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” you counter as you lean into him. You’ve applied some fanciful perfume, and it’s intoxicating. He has to stop himself from inhaling deeply—he has little shame when it comes to you, but he’s got to have some poise. “You’re the belle of the ball, Mister Prince.” 

“And you’re the apple of everyone’s eye, lapushka,” he says. “Especially mine.” 

Your heartbeat has been steadily increasing ever since he slotted himself at your side, and he can feel it speed even more with his words. It makes Nikolai smile without even fully realizing it. 

He feels Artem’s gaze on him all the while, and Nikolai chooses to ignore it until now. He looks up, making sure his eyes widen cartoonishly and his smile deepens with the same caliber. “Aslanov! I’m so sorry, I didn’t even notice you!” 

“Your Highness,” he says, polite but terse as he bows his head. “It’s good to see you—it has truly been too long.” 

“Oh, no need for titles,” Nikolai admonishes. “We’re all friends here, are we not?”

He puts particular emphasis on that word, and Artem shifts ever so slightly under Nikolai’s gaze. So he makes him nervous—good. 

“We are,” he agrees, and he looks back at you. “We were merely catching up—it has been years since I last had the good fortune to be in your presence.” Artem smiles at you once again, far more genuine than anything he’s given Nikolai. “Of course, I look forward to hearing about everything you learned at university.” 

“I’ve certainly learned a lot,” you say. Very tongue-in-cheek—you don’t even try to hide it. 

Of course. The cover story for Nikolai’s being away from court was his apprenticeships, culminating in his studies at the University of Ketterdam—it would be a shame of the highest order for your parents to admit you ran away to avoid the marriage they’d planned for you, and even more so to admit it had gotten their daughter kidnapped by slavers, so they simply said you joined him there. 

Advancing your studies for a better view, they’d spouted. We want our heir to be well-educated on all matters of the world. Nikolai knows you learned more on the seas by his side than you would have in a classroom staring at endless amounts of books. He only regrets he can’t shout how amazing you’ve been for the past few years from the rooftops. 

“Perhaps we could discuss it privately some time.” Nikolai will give it to him; his smile is a bit more charming this time. He still wants to punch it off him. “You know, my family has only refined our winemaking over the years—we’d have a wonderful time with a bottle of our finest red—”

“Unfortunately, it will have to wait,” Nikolai cuts in before you can respond. He can’t help it—he’s raring to have you to himself, and he doesn’t know how much more he can take of Artem’s flirting. “My parents are eager to speak to you, darling. We’ll see you around, Aslanov.” 

He pulls you away, once again feeling Artem’s eyes on the two of you. He purposefully pulls you closer against him—your warmth against him does wonders to quell the spike of jealousy in his chest.

“You really are impossible,” you say wryly, but you make no move to part from his side as he leads you through the crowd. 

“I’m just making sure he understands the situation,” Nikolai says innocently. 

“We were just talking,” you say. “You know, it has been years.”

“You were,” he agrees. “But our friend here was very interested in trying to be more. Couldn’t you tell?”

You laugh and you place your hand on his chest. “Nikolai Lantsov, are you jealous?”

“He was talking about his family’s vineyard.” He smiles back at you in turn. He can’t help the bit of bravado that trickles in. “For me to be jealous, I’d have to think he had a chance.”

“Saints, you are!” you exclaim. You stop, halting him in turn, and you grin at him with a twinkle in your eye. Again, he smiles subconsciously just at the sight of it. “Nikolai, I cannot believe you!” 

“How?” he asks, cocking his head boyishly. “Have you caught a glimpse of yourself tonight?”

“I’ve looked at myself in the reflection of every glass,” you say dryly. “After all the time spent in sea-faring clothes, it’s very strange to be back in gowns.”

“Then you should know how absolutely stunning you are,” he says. “Breathtaking, showstopping, the very image of perfection…” Nikolai runs his finger over the embroidery on one of your off-the-shoulder sleeves. The rest of his hand lingers on your bare skin, and he longs to remove the barrier his gloves have created. 

“And yet it still doesn’t beat how you look in a privateer’s garb,” Nikolai says. 

He places his hand over yours and brings it up from his chest. He entangles your fingers and uses the grasp to pull you even closer to him, your chests nearly touching. The warmth of your body tempts him to go even further, but he holds back. 

“Really?” you ask. “This gown cost more vlachkas than anyone deserves, took the labor of a small army to create, and weighs as much as you do, and you like me more in that dingy jacket with pants that smell like gunpowder?” 

“Oh, yes,” Nikolai nods. “They don’t just smell like gunpowder—they make your rear look very appealing.” 

You laugh louder than you should and it draws eyes in your direction. You don’t pay them any mind, gaze still locked on Nikolai, as you hit him on the chest. 

“You still have the mind of a sailor, I see,” you drawl. “But I must admit I also miss it. The simplicity, if anything.” 

“Just because I didn’t keep a king’s mantle on deck doesn’t mean I wasn’t outfitted in the same gaudy way,” Nikolai says. “A Lantsov must always be prepared, you know.” 

“Well, I used to hate that blue frock of yours, especially when we first reunited,” you muse. You extract your hand and trail your fingers down his current coat—he shivers at your touch even through the material. “Now I think I prefer it over anything else in your wardrobe.”

He frowns. “You hated my coat?” 

“I hated a lot of things at the time,” you say wryly. Your hand finds its way back to his and you intertwine them together again. “Besides, it’s grown on me.” 

Nikolai chuckles, and the two of you fall silent when you shift and rest your head on his shoulder. You’ve managed to find your way to the edge of the ballroom, and it gives you a little more privacy. You stand together, watching as everyone mingles, half bearing a fake smile and the other half lying through their teeth. He didn’t think the Ravkan court would like to think they had more in common with his lying, cheating, stealing crew than they thought.  

“So,” Nikolai says, finally breaking the silence, “is being back everything you’ve imagined?”

You huff. “Hardly. Everything is so… restrained.” 

He hums in acknowledgement. “Speaking of restrained, have your parents gotten over their fit yet?” 

Your laugh is sharper this time. “Once again, hardly. You’d think I murdered the queen the way they’re treating me.” 

Nikolai expected that, to be honest. He insisted on being by your side in the initial reunion and they didn’t dare act out of turn in front of royalty, but you said the moment you returned to your palace apartment with them, they yelled at you loud enough to be heard in Novyi Zem. 

“They should be thankful,” Nikolai scoffs. “It’s like they don’t even care what nearly happened to you because of their haste to marry you off.” 

“I don’t even like to think about it,” you murmur. He feels you shiver and he pulls you even closer to him. “But I was right—they want me to be who I was before I left. They’re even convinced that they can get me to agree to the marriage they’ve got planned.” 

His frown deepens. “Saints, must I sweep you off your feet in front of all of Ravka to get everyone to realize you’re a taken woman? I am a very good shot, but I’ve only got so many bullets—”

“Nikolai,” you interrupt with a laugh, raising your head to look him in the eye. He’s glad to see the lightness has returned. Your near fate isn’t a subject either of you like to talk about. “You don’t need to worry, and you certainly don’t need to worry about that.” You cup his cheek with your hand and he leans into your touch. “If one thing has stayed the same through all of this, it’s that you’re the only one out there for me. After all the pomp and circumstance you have to perform with Alina is over, you can tell them yourself.” 

“Good,” Nikolai says with a slight smile. “Because I don’t think I can stand to hear Aslanov talk about the grapes his family’s been growing for another second.” 

You laugh again, and you lean in to press a kiss to his lips. Nikolai beats you to it as he covers your hand with his own, using his other to draw you even closer. Practically every part of you is touching as he kisses you like a starving man, with your lips against his and your perfume invading his senses and your soft moan that’s muffled against his mouth. After a night spent away from your side and having to watch other men compete fruitlessly for your affections, he might as well be. 

When you finally pull away, lipstick a mess and pupils dilated and expression nothing less than adoration, it takes everything Nikolai has in him not to take your face in his hands and do it all over again. He wants to mess up your hair, your makeup, kiss your lips until they’re swollen and ravish, worship your body until you can think of nothing but him, say nothing but his name. 

“Nikolai,” you gasp, interrupting his sinful thoughts, “do you want to get out of here for a bit?” 

Whatever restraint he previously had dissolves with your words as he kisses you again, harder this time. You’re water when he’s dying, a lifeboat when he’s drowning, the very air he needs to breathe. Everything has come to a head after such a boring, strength-testing night, and all Nikolai wants is you. 

He brings you even closer with the arm he has around your waist, already starting to pull you along as he heads towards the doorways. He’s sure to stick to the walls, not wanting to draw more attention than necessary when even the flushed warmth of your heated skin through his jacket is enough to drive him crazy. 

Nikolai doesn’t know how he ever spent seven years away from you. He could barely handle half a ball. 

“More than anything,” he breathes. 

[leggerefiore]

Various Dinner Date Ideas

cw: food discussion, fluff

characters: Ingo, Emmet, Cyrus, Nanu, Grimsley, Colress, Larry, Lear

▲Ingo▼

● The fast food restaurant was not the worst among the ones present in Nimbasa, and you were not going to pretend that you were above eating at one in this lifetime. That, and, well, Ingo certainly could prove himself a bit of a forgetful eater, so seeing him able to happily munch on something was an appealing sight. The older twin often skipped his breaks and meals to focus on work. His dedication was admirable, but his health was concerning. So, when he asked to stop for dinner at a fast food place, you were not going to stop him from having a small indulgence.

● You both sat at a table as people around faded in and out while the employees worked away in the background. Ingo happily ate the burger he has ordered, finally getting a proper calorie intake for the day. A few fries were shared between you both as he spoke about his day. Apparently, it had been quite eventful as the busy season rolled in. Transit management during the holidays sounded quite maddening, so you listened to him rant and laughed at his face growing red when he realised what he was doing. Still, you reassured him it was fine. It was nice to see the overly formal man relax and be himself. He cleared his throat and finished his food, making sure that you did as well. It was not much of a dinner date, but you certainly felt that you had enjoyed yourself.

▽Emmet△

○ The bakery café was a nicer one, as Emmet had quite familiarised himself with the money sweet sellers in the city. Many seemed to recognise him, too. Greeting him with a smile despite his usual brevity with words. The younger twin's sweet tooth was no well-kept secret. Most knew how to get to his heart was to bring him something sugary. He was quite easy to please, but it was certainly unlikely to actually sway him in any case. Really, it was a bit concerning how much he consumed, but it never seemed to affect him. His happiness seemed most important in the end – Even Ingo had relented that. It was no surprise when he brought you there even when this was supposed to be a dinner date.

○ You shared a table, enjoying coffee and a bit of sugar alongside a sandwich, thankfully for some actual nutrition. Emmet smiled at the strawberry chiffon cake he had ordered before bringing his fork down into it. The sweet was soon to disappear as he finally had a moment to enjoy it. You sighed at the sight, but his genuine happiness made it hard to complain. He rested his head in his hand as he watched you enjoy your own order. The joy really had reached his eyes, showing that it was more than just his usual grin plastered on his face. You supposed it was not the worst spot for dinner, especially when it clearly made Emmet so happy. He only giggled when you lightly chided him for his tastes as you left together.

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ The Galactic Boss was not really one for dates. If you asked, he would go, but he otherwise was not much of an initiator for anything romantic. So, when he offered to eat out dinner with you, it was difficult to say no. Though, ending up in a fast place was a bit surprising. He sat across from you at the table, almost making you laugh at his suit, being a bit ruffled from his long day at work. Beef bowls. You supposed off all people, Cyrus did seem quite fond of protein. He was surprisingly muscular under all his layers and baggier preference towards clothing. You sat with him, quickly ordering your own choice off the menu. His order was quite large, making you sigh. He probably skipped out on lunch. Cyrus was really not the type to pull away from work unless he had to.

☄️ You both ate in a relative silence, making you wonder if this was even a date at all. But, he seemed to take occasional glances at you. It was clear he was observing you, likely attempting to make sure that you were enjoying yourself. The thought made you chuckle. When you both finished, he covered the bill and headed out with you. The streets of Veilstone were empty as night landed and the chill of wind whipped through. His hand held your own. You leaned into his side to stave off some of the weather. He finally spoke more than just a simple greeting. “… I apologise for how busy I've been lately,” his voice was a deep rumble, “I will try for a proper date sometime soon.” Suddenly, you could forgive him.

🐈‍⬛️Nanu❤️‍🩹

🌑 The Kahuna was a pretty predictable man. Despite how mysterious and unknown as he came off, there was a pattern to him, and it was hard to break it. So, unsurprisingly, dinner was a similar thing quite often. More often than not, the old man could be seen with a cup noodle quietly watching something on his monitor with a Meowth curled up in his lap. But, he also ventured out to other places. Sushi High Roller was a place where one could frequently find the man enjoying a meal. And, well, if he was offering a meal date. It was more than likely you would find yourself there with the Nanu. The staff clearly knew him well, regularly greeting the Kahuna eagerly.

🌑 Which led to you sitting across from him as he ate the Ronin set he ordered. It would almost seem like the man was starved with how he ate, making you laugh a bit. He gave a few bits of conversation with you, occasionally with his mouth full. A half-hearted apology came next, but it was mostly relaxing. The food was good — This fish certainly fresh. It almost seemed like Nanu was back in a familiar place. He talked a bit about various goings-on, but it all teetered off into a comfortable silence. In the end, he paid for both of your meals, making sure you enjoyed yourself. The softness under his gruff exterior was always a nice thing to see.

♠️Grimsley❤️

♤ The gambler had tastes that varied, but it was plain as day to anyone that dared observe that he was a rich boy at heart. Even if he sometimes had no money due to his name from his certain proclivities – He had clear, expensive preferences. Fine suits, fine liquor, and fine dining. It was not surprising when he popped into various expensive dining establishments in Black City. He was notorious around. Whether he would pay was always but in the air, but he usually did. So, most places did not kick him out. And, for you, he was quite a fan of dates. So, you often were brought along to these places for high society even if you were not a true participant. Staff often greeted Grimsley with various degrees of enthusiasm, which led to a strange feeling.

♡ He ordered something beyond your understanding while you went for something in your range – and at a reasonable price. Even you were aware of the gamble for whether Grimsley had the money to pay out or not. Though, a slight insistence from him to really enjoy yourself typically meant he did and wanted you to be spoiled in a sense. So, you both enjoyed your meals. Grimsley was extremely proper in his eating manner, portraying the high-class bloodline of which he was descended. You, too, quite enjoyed the food. He paid with ease, knocking off your still remnant concern of whether he would or not. As both left together, he brought an arm around your waist and glanced at you teasingly. “Did you think ol' Grimsley was going to leave you high and dry?” he joked, “I'm not that cruel, darling.” A single peck to your lips silenced your reply before he brought you along back to his condominium.

🥼Colress🛸

🧪 The scientist was dedicated. That was likely the best way to describe him. Nothing was to stop his research – not laws, not morals. He worked and lived solely for his own educational satisfaction and results for his research. You had known this when you met him, and it had only become more reinforced over time. There was little to be done about it. Really, nothing on this planet likely could sway Colress. Though, you did feel concern when he failed to leave his laboratory for an entire day. He had not brought any food with him, and you felt certain that you had not seen him leave it once. So, worrying about your boyfriend's health, you decided to act.

🧪 Entering his room, you found him bent over his desk, working on some machine likely beyond comprehension yet so obviously named “Colress Machine” number whatever. You tapped him on his back, gathering his attention. Holding out a take-out container to him, you watched his yellow eyes shoot wide as he took it. Popping it open, he pulled out the lox bagel you had got for him. He finally pulled away from his work to take a bite, seemingly finally realising his hunger. You shook your head as you watched him eat. When he finished, his disposed of the remains and changed his gloves. “… It appears that I had forgotten to eat,” his voice a bit tired, “Thank you.” You tugged his blue strand in reply and scolded him.

💼Larry🏢

🍙 If there was a thing about the salaryman that was clear to understand, it was his love of food. With little things that he seemed able to enjoy in his life, he could always enjoy a nice meal on his break between all his various work. It was really no wonder that many of your dates with him revolved around that subject. Medali was full of places to eat, so trying out new places that he had heard about was simply a good time. But, his favourite was unchanging. The Treasure Eatery continued to be the most frequent place these dates ended up at. So, you found yourself just as familiar with the staff as poor Larry was and the witness to many gym battles. Evenings were less intense, at least.

🍙 You watched as Larry enjoyed the onigiri with a peaceful expression. It was about the only time his business face fell away to something more genuine. The challenge not to smile too much could often prove to be difficult. It would make him revert unconsciously, alas. Though seeing such a basic dish brought him so much joy was genuinely a bit sweet. You wondered if he would ever think of leaving his business life behind to be a food reviewer professionally. He would likely be less stressed. Still, you enjoyed your own order. He paid, and you both left the restaurant together to head back to the apartment. Larry glanced at you with a rare, small smile and thanked you for joining him. You could only grin back at him.

👑Lear💎

🪙 The prince was spoiled. It was no secret. Even with his obvious difficulties he had faced in life, it was clear that if he truly desired something, it would be obtained for him. So, with food, it was rare that he did not eat something that he desired. Restaurants all over Pasio were admittedly to his tastes. (Which had led to him asking you for your “commoner” opinion on things fairly frequently.) And, it was rare that you did not share a meal with Lear, especially after becoming his “betrothed.” (Him deciding that with little input from you. Not that you really wanted to fight it.) This meant you ended up at his villa quite often, where you shared a table with the prince and servants brought in the food. The dishes were always luxurious and far too much for what you were used to eating. Granted, should you have requested anything, it would have been added to the menu.

🪙 It was something amusing to watch the prince eat. His table manners were careful and trained. There were no clearer signs of his posh upbringing than that. Many of the things you did regularly caught his attention at the table. Politely, Sawyer would come up to you afterwards and direct you towards proper behaviour since poor Lear was terrified at the thought of his father rejecting you for whatever small reason. The multiple silverware were still going over your head, but you tried your best to keep up. Somewhere, you had the urge to really take him out for fast food to culture shock him. He observed you back, grinning more genuinely when you clearly enjoyed the food served. Somehow, meals were always an event with the prince. (He boasted about how he had enlightened your palette afterwards, making you laugh.)

[guided-by-stars]

One of the aspects of the systems of belief established in ISAT that makes it so fascinating to examine is that they are are centered around praxes that aren’t focused on as much in the major religions in our world.

Much has been said about how the Change belief encourages self-exploration, (transness is seen as holy, exploration of identity is encouraged) and pressures those who don’t want to change who they are (Mirabelle). The underlying core of the Change belief is action. Active Choice is more encouraged than anything else. The choice to change your body, the choice to change yourself, the choice to change your circumstances, the choice to go on a pilgrimage, the choice to learn new skills, etc. Of course passive change is also celebrated- death is seen as just another Change, and I assume that would apply to aging in general (appreciation of elders?), but it’s not as pushed. In this way, the Change belief encourages autonomy, control over your own life, and ownership of your life circumstances.

On the other hand, those who believe in the Universe as a force of power in the world are faced with the opposite pressure. When the King and Siffrin are relating for the first time over their shared culture, they both remember the phrase “The Universe leads, we can only follow.” The underlying core of their belief is that what is fated must happen, it’s inaction. Passivity. Any drastic action that is taken is justified by it being a path the Universe led them on. When the King starts the battle, he says “Let’s see which side the Universe favors!” Whoever ultimately wins at the end was fated to win, and that could never have been changed. It’s about resignation, acceptance.

This ultimately impacts everything about how the story plays out. When Siffrin first realizes he’s in a time loop, he’s excited! The Universe has given him the power to change things! He’s being led on a path where he can protect his friends and make sure everything is alright! They’re fated to win! As the futility of his quest sets in though, he very quickly turns to resignation instead. What’s the point of getting upset over having to die again and again? There’s nothing he can do about it. The Universe leads and he can only follow. If anyone else was the one looping, they would probably react quite differently just due to that.

However, it’s more complex than just that. What about Wish Craft? Isn’t that purely about taking action, making a Change? Well, partially, but because of the culture that everyone who knows about Wish Craft is part of, it’s seen more as appealing to the Universe. Asking, pleading, for the current to bring you down the left stream instead of the right in the fork in the waters. If you gain something from Wish Craft, you were given it, you didn’t take it. Once again, it’s passive. If Wish Craft was a Vaugardian thing, it would certainly be seen differently.

If the Change belief’s focus on action encourages autonomy, control over one’s life, and free will, what does that say about the Universes resignation and acceptance? Once again, I’m reminded of Euphrasie repeating words as if she’s prerecorded, skipping like grooves on a well-worn CD.

There’s also something to be said about how, in the Change religion, they appeal to a deity, one that you can have a personal and positive relationship with, and those who believe in the Universe are believing in an unfeeling force of nature. None of this is to say either is more beneficial than the other, the pressure to always Change can be extremely destructive, and sometimes acceptance is much better than change. It’s just fascinating how much they come into conflict with each other.

[burst-of-iridescent]

i really hate it when people act as though zuko is being selfish or self-serving in some way when he tells aang in the finale that the only choice he has is to kill ozai because a) at this point, zuko is right and b) zuko's brutal honesty here is coming from a place of fear for both aang and the world.

are we all forgetting that unlearning his own idealization of his father and realizing that ozai never had been, and was never going to be, the person zuko thought he was, was a significant part of zuko's own arc? it took him sixteen years to understand that giving ozai any grace or understanding or forgiveness was a mistake, because it would be just another tool for ozai to manipulate him with. and that's not zuko's fault, because he was an abused child growing up in an incredibly damaging environment, but it does make sense that he doesn't want anyone else, especially aang, doing the same thing.

zuko is harsh on aang here because he sees in aang the person that he used to be - the innocent, naive kid who wanted so desperately to believe that ozai wasn't a monster, that there was any shred of humanity within him at all to be appealed to. it's not a coincidence in this show so rife with parallels that aang goes to face ozai at around the same age that zuko has his agni kai. and what did it get zuko, when he threw himself at his father's mercy and counted on ozai's non-existent humanity and compassion to save him?

zuko isn't coming down hard on aang because he's angry that "aang won't do his dirty work for him" or whatever other bullshit version of this argument i've seen zuko antis make - he HAS to impress upon aang how dire this situation is because he knows better than anyone that believing for even a second that ozai can be redeemed is incredibly dangerous. aang cannot give ozai an inch because it will only be used against him (and indeed, this does happen in the final battle when aang turns down the opportunity to redirect lightning at ozai and in return ozai presses his advantage to the point where aang would almost certainly have been killed if not for rock ex-machina).

furthermore, this idea that zuko wanted ozai dead for self-serving reasons doesn't really have much basis either, because if that was the case zuko could have just killed ozai himself during the solstice. he doesn't because at that point, he still had an alternative: aang (and you'll notice his word choices never explicitly refer to what ozai's fate will be; it's only "i'm going to help him defeat you" or "taking you down is the avatar's destiny"). as with many abused children, it's likely that zuko himself didn't really know if he wanted his father dead, but when it came down to the final battle without any other viable options presenting themselves, it was something he had to resign himself - and aang - to.

zuko himself does not lack faith in others (in fact, his whole journey is about understanding that his love for and belief in humanity is a strength, not a weakness) but he's learned the hard way that having this faith in the wrong people can result in devastating consequences, especially when the stakes are so high.

i imagine it terrified zuko to see the echoes of his younger self in aang, knowing he's sending him to face his father at the height of his power. at this point, with no knowledge of energybending or any alternative way to defeat ozai, well aware that a fight with his father can only end in bloodshed, zuko has no choice but to give aang the reality of the situation: kill, or be killed and doom the world alongside you.

[strawberriesandhotmen]

Wicked Games and Cigarettes

a/n: I know I’m supposed to be posting a Harry Styles fic right now 🥴 I’M SORRY I have no motivation but I’m forcing myself to work on it so don’t worry pookies. I honestly just needed to write this Javier Peña thing because he’s a baddie so yeah. Hope y’all enjoy 😝

pairing: partner!Javier Peña x DEA agent!fem!reader

CW +18 smut: swearing, smoking, angst (i’ve got some more tension and build up for you lovelies), unprotected piv (wrap it up), they are actually both assholes but it’s fine, angry sex angry sex angry sex (kind of not really, they forget about it pretty quick), javier peña is a warning in his own right let’s get serious

word count: 2.6k

Sexual tension.

It could be fun, but it could also be thoroughly infuriating.

Moreso, not to mention, when the person said sexual tension was between was someone you thoroughly hated. 

At least, you should hate them.

Javier Peña was an asshole, utterly and completely. Arrogant, selfish, unaware, callous, ho-

Anyways.

The list goes on.

It wasn’t like you weren’t thrilled when you were first partnered up with him. Getting to work with a highly decorated agent straight out of the gate? It was exhilarating, until he actually spoke.

Or rather, merely looked your way.

A scowl was definitely his permanent expression of choice; you struggled to remember a time when the man had actually cracked a smile, let alone laughed. God forbid he enjoy his life.

Your first real assignment with him was painstaking, to say the least. It was a throwaway mission, really, something to initiate you, almost. At least, you recognized it as such. It wasn’t even a two-man job, and Javier ended up hovering over you like a supervisor instead of contributing in the slightest.

Nails on a chalkboard was the skin-crawling feeling you got whenever someone just watched you, for no other reason than their own occupation. This, predictably, was Javier’s natural state. A hovering surveillance robot created solely for your scrutinization and utter annoyance.

You couldn’t even ignore his cologne while he breathed down your neck as you typed up a report, pointing out an extra comma here or a misspelling there. His scent bullied its way into your nose without consent, wafting up to your brain as if it belonged there, and for a split second  you would think maybe it did.

Nonsense.

That was the sleep deprivation talking, there was no other explanation. These wild and outlandish thoughts were starting to get on your last nerve, if you were being honest.

And when weren’t you honest? Except, maybe with yourself.

It wasn’t as though it was easy to miss the contours of his jaw when he clenched it in aggravation, or the veins protruding from his hands when he flexed them impatiently. You didn’t appreciate the way you had unwittingly become accustomed to the smell of cigarettes, even tolerating it.

The fact that he couldn’t go two minutes without lighting up may have been a red flag, but it had disguised itself as something entirely different.

Alluring.

You weren’t admitting to being attracted to him; hardly, in fact. Anyone could make smoking look hot, couldn’t they?

Even the overweight cashier at the liquor store had some appeal with a cloud of smoke swirling around his bulbous features, sure.

It was the slow burn of the embers as it ate away at the thin stick, the small puff that escaped his - rather, anyone’s - lips at each exhale, the lingering scent that overpowered anything present before it.

Oh, who were you kidding? It was so overwhelmingly him. You were humble enough to admit that, confident enough in your overall repulsion of him that you could grant the man a small win. He had certainly mastered the art of making impending lung cancer look sexy.

And he was truly protective over his allotted smoke breaks, territorial, almost. It was like an indulgence for him, the slight burn in his throat that crackled to his lungs, the once clean air that grew thick around him, the peace of it all.

You usually tried to respect this instance; in fact, you always did, but after a mission that had gone particularly dismally, Javier wasn’t the only one in need of a distraction.

It had gone bad, really bad. It had been neither of your intentions to lose two agents in twenty minutes, and the plan certainly hadn’t included bombing the mission entirely. It was no one’s fault, and also everyone’s fault. Who couldn’t blame themselves?

You had plopped down next to Javier on the wire bench in the courtyard, maintaining enough self-awareness amidst your self-loathing to keep a semblance of space between the two of you. 

Cigarettes had never been your thing; one or two bad decisions in high school had solidified that. But after what had just happened, it wasn’t seeming so damaging.

Your eyes had flickered to the cartridge in his hand, the name Peña scrawled lazily across the top.

Jesus Christ, this guy actually labels his cigarettes?

He had noticed your lingering gaze, reaching into his personal stash to hold a stick out to you despite himself. He hadn’t made eye contact, hadn’t even bothered to look your way. That would make it too personal, too intimate. He was being decent, and that was all.

Neither of you spoke as you took the cigarette between your slightly dry lips, puckering as he held the lighter at the tip. You didn’t need to; everything was understood.

It would have been profound; poetic, even, if it had been anyone other than him. But no, it only served to frustrate you more.

Why couldn’t you escape him, why couldn’t you stay away?

He had left before you finished your smoke, his already burnt to a crisp, abandoning you to wallow in a cloud of smoke and bad decisions. It wasn’t discussed the next day, or the day after that.

You never talked about it because you never talked about anything; apart from your missions, that is. And even then it was clinical, detached. You didn’t acknowledge the important stuff, because that’s too close for comfort.

It was just that way; it was understood, accepted by both of you. And it had worked, always, until this mission.

This half-baked, godforsaken mission that took a turn for the worse in every possible way. It was heinous, really, just how poorly the operation had gone. You had taken some risks, he had missed some shots, all things to be expected. The issue here, however, was that these risks should not have been taken, and those shots should never have been missed.

And that is how you found yourself in Javier’s office, five feet apart, screaming at each other to see who would lose their voice first.

“I told you to stick to the fucking plan!” He bellowed, the decibels echoing off his sparsely decorated walls.  

“The plan went to shit, in case you didn’t notice! It was a suicide mission either way!” You weren’t wrong; your superiors had passed down the assignment from their place high in the castle, sending off their peons to complete their dirty work. It was shafty, poorly put together. You had both recognized it from the start, but who were you to refuse them?

“That mission wasn’t my fucking call and you know it!” He shot back, running a hand through his aggravated dark curls, pacing aggressively.

Fuck, his ha-

Anyways.

“I didn’t say it was, dickwad!” Oh yeah, that was a strong one.

“Oh, dickwad, that’s poetic!” He let out a sardonic, humorless chuckle, shaking his head and flashing you an ironic grin. You rolled your eyes so hard you thought they might roll back, crossing your arms defiantly. 

“Ever the mature one, Peña.” You weren’t really one to be talking, purposefully pissing him off by saying his last name rather than his first, but any dig was entirely worth it. You were fully aware of your talent at snaking under his skin.

“Ever the ma-” He trailed off, letting out a huff of laughter at the absurdity of it all. “That is ironic coming from you.” He spoke, your tones quieter now, but no less charged with insult. He stalked closer to you as a dangerous smirk graced his features, quirking his mustache upward in the best way. He let himself lean in, just enough for you to feel his breath on your ear, before he whispered.

He fucking whispered.

“You’re just a walking mistake with a badge.” Suddenly, you could barely breathe. The air around you felt thick, smoky, but for once his lips were void of a cigarette. You took a step back, burning a hole into his eyes with your own.

“Guess that makes two of us.” You replied lowly, letting him revel in the momentary illusion that he had actually stung. You made a circle around him, now tip-toeing to whisper in his own ear.

“They died fixing your fuckup.” And hell if he didn’t snap then and there. Just as you stepped two feet away, he whirled around to slam his fist onto the desk, a yelled curse coupling with the ringing in your ears.

“You don’t get to walk away!” He directed at you, quickly crowding you against the nearest wall as he planted your wrists beside your head. 

And for once, it was silent.

Only the sound of your harsh breaths filled the room as you both stared, not at your eyes, but something else.

Something entirely more damaging.

Lips.

His body was completely slotted against your own, his leg between your thighs, his grip on your wrists firm and unrelenting. His chest rose and fell against your own as ragged breaths escaped you both.

He was so close. All he would have to do is lean down just a bit and then he would be able to-

“Damn you.” You forced out, dying to avoid the inevitability of it all. “I hate y-”

And then it was all a clash of lips and teeth, the burn of cigarettes transferring from his tongue to yours. There was nothing gentle or tender about any of it; on the contrary. It was primal, animalistic, desperate. He pulled after what felt like an eternity, only for air, only to speak.

“I hate you too.” He panted in response, giving you no time to realize his underlying insinuation before he was on you again. His hands finally released your wrists, sliding down to grip your waist as if he was afraid you would disappear. Your back was still flush with the wall, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he explored your mouth.

“So fuckin’ annoying.” He mumbled under his breath as his lips moved to your neck, leaving marks in their wake.

“Such an idiot.” You breathed back at him, letting your head fall back against the wall as he reached your collarbone.

Insults were traded back and forth as layers began to shed, your clothes now decorating the floor in a haphazard arrangement. When you had finally bared yourselves to each other, Javier stooped down to whisk you into his arms, shifting you over to the desk. He set you atop the cool surface, your breath hitching at the sensation as you remained wrapped around him.

“So pretty, amor.” He hummed into your hair, deeply inhaling your scent as the mirage of hatred fell between you. “And so wet.” You gasped as his fingers were suddenly toying with your swollen clit, and your grip on him tightened. You were sure you had already leaked onto the desk, and judging by the rather smug expression on Javier’s face, you were right.

“Don’t tease.” You forced out, tugging him closer by the vice your legs created. He could’ve teased you more; much more, in fact, but he wasn’t cruel. He could be, but he wouldn’t.

Not today. 

Not with you looking so fucked out in his arms when he’s barely even touched you. Not with the way your lips were parted just enough to let shallow breaths through. Not with how your hair was flipped to one side, framing your angelic features so fucking perfectly.

“Fuck, hermosa.” He groaned, capturing your lips with his for what felt like the hundredth time as he lined himself up with your dripping entrance. There was no time for foreplay, no time to ‘get you ready.’ You would just have to take it like the good girl you were. And when his leaking tip notched just inside, you could swear you could’ve come then and there.

With your nails marking crescent shapes into his back and your tongue tangling with his, he pushed into you at a torturous pace, and you weren’t sure how he could tolerate it.

“Javi, shit.” You moaned against his lips, breaking the kiss and pressing your forehead against his. He let out a deep sigh when he was fully sheathed inside of you, relishing in how tightly you squeezed him.

“So fuckin’ tight, cariño.” He panted as he began to slowly pull out, only to slam into you with a force that drew a sharp, muffled cry from your lips. “Takin’ me so fuckin’ well, isn’t she?” It wasn’t as if that question was anything but rhetorical, but the praising tone drew such a flutter from inside that you assumed even he felt it.

“Faster, Javi, please.” You weren’t one to beg. In fact, you were sure you had never begged during sex before. Javier, to be fair, seemed to have a natural talent for bringing out the best in you (if pathetic is considered a good thing, and in this case, you were thinking yes). He let another groan escape those perfect lips, revealing just how deeply you were affecting him.

“As you wish, hermosa.” He grunted, increasing his speed at your plea. You could hardly form a complete thought, the feeling of his thick cock stretching you so deliciously fucking you out. The slick and punctuating sounds of him pounding into you filled the bare office, the empty walls allowing the sounds to echo that much more.

It felt like nothing and an eternity all at the same time, and you could hardly believe your ears when you barely registered Javier’s words.

“Shit, baby, m’close.” There was no fucking way that Javier Peña would come early inside of you, so the logical conclusion was that he was fucking you too well for you to process time correctly.

Yes, that must be it.

Your moans grew louder and your back arched harder as his thumb rubbed harsh circles into your puffy clit, making that knot in your stomach all the more noticeable. It was like nothing else the moment you came, your vision going white, your nerves lighting up, your eyes rolling back.

It was surreal.

And you could assume he felt the same, the way he pulled you close and buried his face in your neck after you had both relaxed, breathing you in deeply just like before. He pressed tender kisses to your neck, now glistening with sweat, any hint of the animosity from before long gone.

“You’re such a tease, hermosa.” You could feel his lips curl into a smile against your skin, and it brought a soft one to your own. “These games you play with me, they’re torturous.” You let out a little giggle as his eyelashes tickled the skin beneath your ear, sighing contentedly. Your arms around him tightened at his next words, relishing in the husky tone and the insinuation of it all.

“Games, amor. Wicked games.”

[slutdilf]

Ride you like a mustang

Pairing: Agent whiskey x male reader

Requested by anonymous; agent whiskey fic where he walks into a bar and sees reader and he talks the reader into spending the night with him and at first he’s quite reluctant but then gives in and spends the night where they both have sex and then a little cuddly fluff moment at the end as aftercare

Summary: jack daniels walks into a bar for a drink. His eyes capture you. Lonely at the bar. He decides to give you a wild a night of pleasure by having you ride him like a mustang.

Warnings: riding, handjob, manipulation (a little? Maybe idk) pet names ‘darling’ and ‘sugar’

Note: this took a while to write and I didn’t expect it to be so long. I tried to create as much as chemistry as I could.

The bar was crowded, warm with the chatter of drunken merrymakers and dimly lit by the soft glow of the lamps. Agent Jack Daniels "Whiskey" stood there alone, leaning casually against a wall with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

As the crowd swirled around him, his eyes caught the sight of you, a lone figure sitting at the bar. It was a man, young, seemingly out of place amongst the rowdy revelers. Jack couldn't quite explain it, but something about him had captured his attention.

He watched as you sipped your drink, your demeanor calm and composed in the midst of the chaos around you. It was as if he saw a kindred spirit in your solitude, something that called out to the loneliness that gnawed at the edges of his own heart. With a determined stride, Jack approached you, his confident steps bringing him to stand beside you at the bar.

His presence was a quiet force, not quite commanding, but rather exuding a sense of strength and charisma that was impossible to ignore. Glancing over at you, he caught your eye and offered a friendly grin, raising his glass in a toast-like gesture.

"A bit lively in here tonight, isn't it?" He asked, his voice smooth and honey-like, carrying a hint of Southern charm underneath the surface.

You nodded, acknowledging his presence but offering no more verbal response. Jack took this as a sign of your shyness, perhaps a bit uneasy around the boisterous company of the bar. He studied you silently for a moment, taking in your appearance and demeanor. There was something about you that intrigued him, something beyond just your appearance, though that was certainly not without its appeal.

Taking another sip of his drink, he leaned against the bar, keeping his eyes on you. "You seem like a man who values his privacy. Mind if I join you?" He asked, his words a mix of polite inquiry and something more, a subtle probe into your character.

You glanced up, meeting his gaze for the first time, your eyes betraying a flicker of uncertainty... and perhaps a hint of curiosity. After a moment of silent deliberation, you gave a subtle nod, a gesture of cautious acceptance. “sure I guess….” you said with a slight nonchalant tone

A pleased grin tugged at the corners of Jack's lips as he shifted closer, pulling out the stool next to you and taking his seat. For a moment, he simply sat there beside you, the air between you thick with the weight of unspoken expectations. He took a leisurely sip of his drink, savoring the liquid's warmth and bite as he studied you out of the corner of his eye.

"You have a name?" He asked finally, breaking the heavy silence between you.

In his mind he was already mapping out your character, looking for signs of trustworthiness and vulnerability, any hint of your life's history written in the lines of your expression your, demeanor and even the way you were holding your drink. But his voice remained casual, the friendly stranger merely making conversation rather than the spy who was scrutinizing every detail of your being. “it’s Y/N” you said taking a sip of your drink.

"Y/N," he repeated, savoring the name as it rolled off his tongue. "It suits you." A casual comment, seemingly offhand, yet chosen deliberately to gauge your reaction. His voice carried the faintest hint of a drawl, a remnant of his Mississippi roots, lending an air of warmth and charm to his words. This was all by design, subtle manipulation disguised as friendly banter.

He took another sip of his drink, studying you as he considered his next move. He couldn't help but admire your stoic demeanor, the way you held your emotions at bay like a fortress, though he sensed that behind the walls, there was something more, something that could be reached with the right approach.

"You don't seem like the type of person who frequents the bar scene often," Jack commented, his tone easy, though his words held a subtle underlying questioning, seeking confirmation of his read on you.

There was a pause, a moment of deliberation where you seemed to weigh your options, consider the wisdom of providing information to a stranger. But in the end, you responded, your voice carrying no hint of suspicion, merely a statement of fact.

"I’m not," you replied, a shrug accompanying your words. "But tonight…. I felt like getting out of the house for once."

Jack nodded in understanding, his eyes never leaving your face. He could see the fatigue that lined your features, the exhaustion of someone who carried a heavy burden. But there was something else there too, a spark of vulnerability, a glimmer of loneliness that mirrored his own.

"Sometimes we need a night out to remind ourselves we're alive," he said, his voice soft, sympathetic yet holding a hint of knowing. He swirled his drink in his hand, a silent acknowledgement of the shared sentiment.

You nodded in agreement, a brief but meaningful gesture that spoke volumes of your mutual understanding. The sounds of the crowded bar faded into the background as the two of you shared this moment of quiet connection.

Jack let the silence linger for a moment, allowing it to draw them closer together in its depths, before breaking it with a question. “You hear alone, or with friends?”

Your shoulders tensed ever so slightly at question. It was a casual inquiry, but carried a weight of significance to Jack's trained ears. He watched your reaction closely, noting the subtle change in your body language, the way your body seemed to coil into itself a little. It was a sign of discomfort, a hint of a vulnerability that ran deeper than you were willing to show.

"I suppose I'm here alone tonight," you said, your voice tinged with just the slightest edge of resignation.

Jack nodded, as if it was the answer he expected. He could read between the lines of your response, picking up on the sadness and isolation that you didn't outright say. But he didn't press the issue. Instead, he simply offered a sympathetic smile, the kind of smile that said, "so does that mean I can buy you a drink?”

You hesitated for a moment, a flicker of your previous reluctance crossing your face. But then, something in Jack's warm, charismatic smile seemed to soothe your doubts. Or perhaps a part of you was simply tired of being alone, and the prospect of a companion, even a fleeting one, was too enticing to pass up.

With a small nod, you agreed, "Sure. Sounds good."

His face lit up at your acceptance, though he was careful to keep his tone and expression casual. He lifted his hand, signaling for the bartender's attention, and ordered a drink for you, the exact variety of which was of no real consequence -- the action itself was about the sharing, the connection.

As the bartender poured the drink and slid it over to you, Jack raised his own glass in a silent toast, his eyes holding yours for a moment before he took a sip.

You mirrored his gesture, lifting your newly-acquired drink to your lips, taking a sip. The liquid's warmth and slight burn seemed to mirror the growing heat between the two of you. There was something about this stranger that disarmed you, a subtle magnetism that drew you closer, made you lower your guard a little more than you usually would.

He was attractive and confident, sure, but there was something more. Something in his eyes, a hint of vulnerability beneath the casual banter that was impossible to ignore. “so what’s a cute boy like you doing here? alone at a bar?”

His compliment was a deliberate choice of words, designed to break through your defenses with a little flattery and a subtle suggestion of more than just friendly company. And judging by the way your cheeks flushed slightly at his question, it seemed to have worked.

"I could ask you the same thing," you replied, your voice carrying just a hint of defiance, a challenge that suggested you weren't as easily flustered as he might have thought. He could almost see the walls of your fortress slowly dropping, brick by brick, though they were still far from down. “you calling me cute, darling?” he said with a charming smile. the usage of darling did definitely make your heart skip a beat

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips at his boldness, his effortless charm. There was something disarming about the way he called you ‘darling,' a term of intimacy that he had no right to use. Yet, somehow, it didn't feel unwelcome. In fact, it sent a small shiver down your spine, a sign of a dormant attraction being woken.

"so what if I did?," you quipped, taking another sip of your drink as if trying to hide the effect his charm was having on you.

"Then I'd say you have good taste, darlin'." His voice was honey-smooth, that subtle hint of a drawl adding a touch of intimacy that seemed to wrap around you like a comforting blanket. His eyes never left yours, watching with a keen attention to detail as he searched for any further sign of your softening resolve.

He knew it would take time, patience and persistence to truly break down your walls completely, but these small victories were something worth celebrating. And more importantly, they were proof that his skills and charms still had their intended effect.

You tried to maintain your cool, to keep the wall of nonchalance from crumbling. But the weight of his words and the honeyed warmth of his voice, coupled with the alcohol beginning to swirl in your system, was making it harder by the minute.

You took another sip to hide your fluster, playing it off as a casual action. "Well, it's rare a guy as... charismatic as you actually pays attention to me," you said, your words taking on a slightly playful tone to match his.

His eyes lit up at your words. There it was, the hint of vulnerability he had been probing for, the small crack in the armor that invited him in. He leaned a little closer, closing the distance between you, and responded in a voice just loud enough for you to hear over the buzz of the crowded bar.

"Then those guys were a fool to miss such a stunning sight, darlin'," he said, his words smooth and unhurried, a small token of praise meant to further weaken your remaining resolve.

The compliment was well-timed, his voice carrying the genuine warmth of sincerity. It was just enough to disarm you further, to make you lower your guard just a little more, allowing him to pull you in a little closer.

"Flattery isn't going to get you far with me," you retorted, though you couldn't help but laugh a little at your own words, the sound betraying just how easily you were giving into his charms.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as you playfully batted away his compliment, his eyes glinting with amusement. He could tell you were putting up a brave front, but the crack in your armor had widened, and he could see the vulnerability beneath.

"Now don't be like that," he said, his tone mockingly scolding, though the smile on his face gave away his genuine amusement. "A little flattery never hurt anyone, darlin'. And if it gets you just a little more talkative and relaxed, well..." He shrugged, the implication clear.

You rolled your eyes at his words, though you didn't try to deny them. "Alright, alright. You win, cowboy," you said with a small smile, the term of endearment slipping out without you even realizing it. You took another sip of your drink, using it as an excuse to look away, to give yourself a moment to gather your thoughts before they could betray you further.

As you set down your glass and turned back to him, it became harder and harder to keep your facade of nonchalance.

He noticed the slip, a small smirk playing on his lips at your unconscious choice of words. But he chose not to comment on it, not yet. Instead, he continued to simply drink in the sight of you, admiring your features, observing you as if trying to commit every detail of this moment to memory.

"What brings you out here tonight, darlin'? I assume it wasn't just to sample some of that fine house tequila," he teased, a small, amused wink accompanying his words.

You pretended to think for a moment, tapping a finger on your chin as if considering your answer. "No, actually," you replied, your voice carrying a hint of playfulness. "I heard that the hottest man in the country was supposed to be here tonight and just had to see for myself."

It was a harmless lie, a casual compliment meant to turn the playful banter back at him. Yet as the words left your mouth, they left behind an unmentioned truth: that in fact, the man in front of you was not far from that description.

His eyebrows raised in surprise and amusement in response to your comment, a small laugh escaping him. He was quick on his feet, though, and responded with a smirk and a raised glass. "Well, darlin', I'd say you've found him." There was a glint of something else in his eye now, a subtle confirmation that your compliment hadn't gone unappreciated.

"And as for your presence..." He paused, his tone becoming a bit more serious as he seemed to consider you. "I'd say it has enhanced this night immensely ."

You couldn't help but snort a little at his response, his confidence and charm on full display. But there was something about the way his voice dropped to a lower tone as he spoke about you that set your heart skipping a beat.

"Well, I guess we're both lucky tonight then," you replied, taking another sip of your drink and trying to hide the way your hands were beginning to shake ever so slightly. “how bout we take this drink to a more private place. I got a room upstairs in the bar.” he says with a smile as if he knew that you knew exactly what he was talking about

You couldn't help but snort a little at his response, his confidence and charm on full display. But there was something about the way his voice dropped to a lower tone as he spoke about you that set your heart skipping a beat.

"Well, I guess we're both lucky tonight then," you replied, taking another sip of your drink and trying to hide the way your hands were beginning to shake ever so slightly. “how bout we take this drink to a more private place. I got a room upstairs in the bar.” he says with a smile as if he knew that you knew exactly what he was talking about

Your heart quickened at the suggestion, the subtle implication clear. You knew it was far from innocent, but the alcohol had already made your defenses weaker, and the charm of this stranger was too enticing to resist.

You glanced around at the crowded bar, the chaos of people and noise making it impossible to think clearly. "I’m not one for one night stands ," you said, your voice betraying just a hint of the nerves you were trying to hide.

He seemed not the slightest bit phased by your statement, in fact he looked impressed, as if this was the answer he was hoping for. He leaned in a little closer, offering a conspiratorial smile that seemed to make your heart skip a beat.

"That's good to hear." he said, his voice low, his eyes locked onto yours as if trying to communicate a hidden message. "Neither am I."

Yet somehow, you doubted it.

His sincerity was convincing, but something about that last statement seemed just a bit too convenient, too well-timed. "Really?" you asked, your tone a mix of suspicion and playfulness. "And here I thought you were flirting with me just to add another notch to your belt."

His eyebrows rose a bit at your accusation, the corners of his mouth turning up in a small smile. "Not at all, darlin'," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of genuine surprise. "Believe it or not, those days are behind me. I'm looking for something... more."

He took a slow sip of his drink, studying you as he swallowed, as if waiting for your reaction.

"Hm." you let out a small noise of consideration, though you couldn't deny the flutter in your heart at his words. They were likely lies, a charm offensive designed to get you to drop your guard and agree to go upstairs with him. And yet, a small part of you wanted to believe him.

"More can mean a lot of things," you said finally, trying to maintain an air of playfulness. "Do you have anything in mind?"

"you ever ridden a mustang?." His voice was a little lower now, almost a murmur, carrying just a hint of the passion and desire that lay beneath the surface.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt a hint of heat in your cheeks, a reminder that this was not some mere bar conversation. And yet, you continued to play along, not quite ready to surrender to the undeniable pull of attraction between you.

"Once or twice," you replied, the double meaning of the words clear. "I prefer something a little less... unruly, though."

You allowed yourself to lean in just a little closer, just enough to catch a whiff of his cologne, the heady scent adding to the growing pool of heat that had settled in your lower body. “well that’s a shame cause I was going to make you ride this cock like you would a mustang” he says in a low sultry whisper filled with immense desire and lust.

You swallowed at his words, feeling your skin heat up and stomach tighten at the boldness of his statement. You knew this was probably going too far already, but the alcohol in your system and the undeniable allure of this man's charm were weakening your resolve by the minute. "You're really going all in tonight, aren't you?" you responded, your voice just loud enough for him to hear over the buzz of the bar.

"Can you blame me?" He asked, his voice dripping with honesty. "You're a sight to behold, darlin'. One that I can't help but desire to have all to myself."

His words were dangerous, but not dangerous enough to make you run. In fact, the way he spoke of you made you feel more special than anyone else ever had, and a small piece of you that you thought long buried stirred.

You found yourself wanting to believe him, wanting to see where this might lead, if for no other reason than to hear him compliment you further. “Alright then. lead the way mr….?” you say probing to learn his name

He seemed pleased by your question, a small smile playing on his lips. "Jack. Jack daniels, darlin.'" He extended a hand, his calloused fingers offering a friendly, but firm, handshake.

"Now then. Shall we?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You took a breath, trying to clear your head and assess the situation, your mind wrestling with conflicting thoughts and desires. On the one hand, this stranger was all charm and sex appeal, the kind of man who could easily break hearts and leave without looking back. On the other hand, something about his sincerity, his words of respect and desire, felt genuine. And that made him all the more dangerous.

"Lead the way, Jack."

Jack offered a warm, inviting smile at your decision, his hand still holding yours for a moment before he led you away from the bar and towards a nearby staircase leading upstairs. The world seemed to spin a little from the alcohol and excitement, the noise of the bar fading into the background as you two moved away.

As you reached the top of the stairs and entered the hallway, the silence seemed heavier, more significant. With every step, a small voice in your head asked what you were doing, what you were risking, but the heat of Jack's words and his hand on your back drowned it out.

It was late and the hall was dimly lit, the silence echoing with a sense of intimacy and anticipation. You followed Jack to his room, the sound of your footsteps and the rhythm of your breaths seeming amplified in the quiet. You felt your heart quicken in your chest, a mix of anxiety and excitement coursing through you.

As he opened the door and led you inside, the room beyond was dimly illuminated by a soft glow, the sheets and carpet casting shadows on the wall in a familiar, yet strangely new, setting.

The room seemed to whisper of secrets and desires, the dim lighting and the softly shut door adding to the intimacy of the moment. Jack switched on a small lamp by the bed, casting a warm, inviting glow through the room.

He turned to face you. "Welcome to my lair," he said with a small chuckle, but you could see the sincerity in his eyes. "Can I get you anything? Another drink perhaps?"

Your eyes were drawn to the large, inviting bed, the sheets and blankets just begging to be crumpled beneath eager hands. You swallowed, trying to control your nerves, to stay in the moment and not get carried away by the tantalizing possibilities.

"No," you said finally, your gaze returning to him. It was a small word, easily spoken, but you could see a small flicker of excitement in his eyes as you did. You could also see, perhaps a trick of the light, his pupils dilate just a fraction at your response.

"Good," he said, his voice taking on a lower, more serious tone. "I want to remember every moment with you clearly."

He stepped closer, closing the distance between you, and you could feel the gentle heat of his body now. There was an intensity in his eyes now, a hunger that had been held in check until this moment. The silence stretched out between you, heavy with anticipation and desire. You felt a nervous shiver go down your back, and yet, for some reason, you found yourself leaning a little closer to him, drawn in by something that went deeper than mere attraction.

Jack reached up, gently cupping your face in his hand. His fingers were calloused and rough, yet somehow also gentle and warm, an intoxicating mix of strength and tenderness that sent shivers down your spine. You couldn't help but close your eyes for a brief moment, reveling in the feeling of his gentle touch. He leans in his lips softly pressed against yours

The kiss was electric, a jolt that seemed to shock you to your core, your body reacting without conscious thought. Your heart raced and your knees went weak beneath you. You reached up, your hands resting gently on his chest as you lost yourself in the moment.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled away slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, searching for any sign of resistance, of reluctance.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your lips still tingling from the electricity of the kiss. Your mind was spinning, your thoughts in a million directions, yet one thing was clear: you wanted this. You wanted him. And that scared you.

Jack saw the conflict in your eyes, the uncertainty and desire at war. He leaned closer again, his voice soft and reassuring. "Shh..." he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. "Just be here with me. In this moment. Nothing else matters."

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the weight of his words, their sincere intensity cutting through the noise of your conflicting thoughts. He was right; none of it mattered right now, not the past or the future. Only this moment, only the sensations of his hands on your skin, his voice in your ear.

Your body relaxed at his words, any resistance or hesitation melting away within you as he pulled you in closer, his arms wrapping around your back. You found yourself leaning into him, your hands now gripping the folds of his shirt.

Jack could sense the tension release from your body, and he pressed his advantage, his lips returning to yours with renewed eagerness. The fire within him was growing stronger, the heat between you beginning to rise.

His hands began exploring your body, slowly and gently, as if he was memorizing every curve and line of your form. They moved from your back to your hips, pulling you closer yet again, so that you could feel the rapid beat of his heart.

You were lost in his embrace, your senses and mind consumed by him. His hands seemed to ignite a fire within you wherever they touched, a growing need and desire building within you like rising tides. Your hands moved across his shoulders and chest, feeling the solid muscles that lay beneath, feeling the softness of his shirt beneath your fingers.

Jack's lips left yours, moving downwards to your neck, pressing soft kisses against the sensitive skin there.

He trailed a path along your jawline, his breath hot against the sensitive skin of your neck. His hands continued to explore, moving beneath your shirt, his fingertips grazing along the curves of your body, drawing shivers of pleasure from you. You felt your body reacting, your breath growing heavier, your lips parted in anticipation of what was to come next.

Jack seemed acutely aware of every physical response, every twitch or shiver, his hands moving to the hem of your shirt, his fingertips beginning to push the fabric up. The heat of his touch seemed to crawl across your skin, a tingling that made your heart race even faster.

Despite the alcohol coursing through your veins, your senses were more sharp than ever before, every touch and breath magnified by the need mounting between you.

You could feel Jack's urgency now, and your own body was responding in kind, a hunger growing within you that you could no longer ignore. You helped him pull off your shirt, tossing it aside as he pulled you back into his embrace. Your chest was now pressed against his, the warmth of his skin sending a rush through you. You grabbed at his shirt, pulling it off as well, wanting to feel more of him, needing to feel more.

As his shirt came off, you were briefly stunned by the sight of his muscular form, every curve and line of his body a testament to strength and discipline. For a moment, you forgot to breathe, overwhelmed by the sensations and the sight of him.

Yet before you could fully absorb the sight, Jack's hands were on you again, pulling you closer, his lips finding yours in a hot, hungry kiss.

The kiss was passionate now, no longer holding anything back. You could hear the sounds of your own breaths mixing with his, becoming a single, ragged rhythm, a testament to the growing heat and need between you.

You felt yourself being pushed backwards gently, Jack leading you towards the bed. Your hands continued to explore his body, tracing paths of desire across his skin, craving more of him with each passing moment.

As the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, you allowed yourself to fall backwards, pulling Jack with you. He followed willingly, his body pressing against yours, the weight of his form comforting and exhilarating all at once. Your hands moved lower, feeling the muscles of his back and lower, your fingers gripping the edge of his belt.

He seemed to realize your intent, and broke the kiss for a moment to help you, quickly shedding his pants. He tossed them aside, and you could see the intensity in his eyes as he moved back to you.

Your fingers moved to your own pants, but before you could even begin Jack's hands were on yours, nudging them aside as he began pulling your pants off instead.

You swallowed, slightly nervous again as more of your skin was revealed, yet the hunger you saw in his eyes only made you feel more desired and, strangely, more desired desire. Your breathing was quick and heavy now, your heart hammering against your chest.

Jack pulled off your pants, tossing them aside, and took a moment to appreciate the sight of you stretched out before him. With a soft smile, he reached out, his hands tracing a path along your thighs, moving slowly, teasingly upwards. Jack turns around sitting up on the bed pulling you into his lap.

His warm hands hold your hips as you lean down pressing your lips against his once more. The warmth feeling of his hands traveling up your back as he caresses you. Causing a slight physical sensation of you moving your hips against his bulging boxers. A moan escaping both yours and his mouths. Lost in the kiss and grinding on his erection you didn’t even realise his hands slipping under your underwear grabbing at your ass cheeks. “Ride me……” he whispers as if it was if it was a need and not a want.

You could barely speak and simply nodded lifiting your hips slightlt letting you slowly slide your boxers down. Your ass now resting on his clothed bulge. With a quick lift of his own he removed his own boxers down. His hard cock springing free.

Slightly shocked by the huge length that you were about to have inside you. “I’ve got you….” He whispers in reassurance. You cheeks red and slightly wet from sweat you nodded. Holding his shoulders for support as you sat on his cock letting it seamlessly slide into your hole.

A whimper escaping your mouth as you feel the entire length. “Now….” He whispers softly gyrating his hips. His cock moving around inside you. Making deep sounds of intense of pleasure from you as you hold him.

He holds your hips securely leaning into kiss your chest leaving little bite marks. A hand slowly finding your hard erection as he starts to pump it up and down.

Your moans increased in both volume and intensity. You could feel the knot in your stomach slowly loosing up as you held tightly.

“I’m gonna fill you up….” He groans in a moan moving faster and pumping your cock faster. Groaning and moaning fill the room as you both take in the wild pleasure.

“Scream my name as loud as you want, sugar.” A whisper of his voice sounding more like a moan.

“Jack……” you groan loudly the second you do you explode ropes of liquid into his hand as he pumps you milking with everything you have.

With a loud moan of his own he grips you tight. As you feel the warmth of his liquid filling you up.

Completely out of breath you find every fibre of your body to lift up from his coco before you collapse into his arms “shhh….I’ve got you…” he says his voice out of breath too

“You did amazing….” He whispers as you rest your head on his chest. His hand threading your hair as he leans down and kisses your hair. “Truly a wild night…..” he whispers.

“With more to come…..” you groan softly nuzzling into his chest for warmth. “With more to come….” He repeated in a whisper holding you close. You feel more sleepy as you listen to the beat of his heart. Your eyes slowly shutting as you fall asleep in his embrace.

[mixtapedoh]

and it was all yellow | y.j.

welcome back to SVTU ! lost your way? refer to our campus map for directions.

pairing: yoon jeonghan x gn!reader with guest appearances from c. seungcheol, h. joshua, w. junhui, and more !

word count: ~5.9k genre: neighbors to friends to lovers warnings: language, intermittent Lore Dumping™ (i have to kick us off into svtu somehow), jeonghan is a little shit, light suggestive themes (heavily lampshaded and perhaps only occuring twice?)

☄. *. ⋆

olive's notes: these individual headcanon sets are going to be very ~stream of consciousness~, so bear with me, here. second, cheol and jeonghan are brothers (and there's a secret third brother i'll introduce eventually, don't you worry), also, thank you for stopping by <3. now here's the content you signed up for.

☄. *. ⋆

now playing... ılı.lıllılı.ıllı. ... ⌜ angel baby — troye sivan ⌟

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW ☄. *. ⋆

— it all started when jeonghan realized that jun was loaded.

now, don't get him wrong. it wasn't as though he had befriended jun because jeonghan had been looking for someone rich and easily persuaded. it's not like jeonghan used his ineffable charm to win over the quasi-cryptid that was wen junhui because of jun's apparent legacy funds.

not that jeonghan couldn't have done — he clearly had the persuasion and cunning to do it — he just didn't. jeonghan wasn't in need of someone else's money. please. he was very capable of taking care of himself, thank you very much, he was just also, however, very good at knowing things.

especially those things that could be used to his advantage.

— and well... wen junhui was loaded. wealthy as shit. a classic trust fund baby. a walking dollar sign that just so happened to share classes with jeonghan every year since he started SVTU as a political science major (of arts, of course. he hadn't taken latin in high school to not absolutely crush the romance languages in uni).

— you see, SVTU had this fun little program for long-suffering students interested in the government and manipulating it to their will wherein if you took merger courses — lectures that ate up a hell of a lot of your time and money but gave substantial credit hours that counted for both applied and allied course credit — you could get a jump start on your degree, be offered more opportunities for internship, and explore a subject's "many facets" through "multiple lenses."

to jeonghan, it meant working faster and harder so that he might graduate early and get into the actual politics of pol sci quicker — at a more “genius” and “revolutionary” age.

(half of politics, after all, was being appealing enough to make headlines. there wasn’t time to waste, in the long run.)

to wen junhui it had to mean something different — after all, jun was a pre-law student with a completely different career path from the other party involved (though jeonghan had considered law at one point in time — something he’s not above admitting though certainly not pining after). merger courses for him likely meant an expedited process to law school. but that was truly beside the point. an aside.

— what mattered in the end, was that jeonghan and jun had more than enough shared merger courses to go around, and in the process of things, had gone from strangers to acquaintances, then study partners (blame it on the fact that jun — the altruistic leaning bastard he was — actually tutored in his free time. willingly. as in, not a joke.) to committed group project members, and eventually to that nebulous thing called friendship.

ask them both when that final stage commenced and you’d get varying responses — jeonghan always far more generous than jun in such regards, but almost annoyingly so, like he wanted to be the one leaning more on the ridiculous.

— yes, it was quite a ways into their friendship when jeonghan learned that wen junhui, his sweet jun, was loaded. like, living alone off of campus in his own two bedroom apartment on the wealthy side of the city that prospered from the University Living Aesthetic™, loaded. as in, so loaded he could have easily found more than enough willing bodies to become roommates with him and help pay for the exorbitant expenses but simply decided against it because he hadn’t, and i quote “thought about it before.”

“never thought about it? jun. how much does this place cost?”

and jun had to think for a minute. genuinely think about how much he paid in monthly rent. “i suppose for a month’s rent i pay around… [REDACTED].”

and jeonghan was no stranger to dramatics, to be sure, but anyone else would have gaped the same as him. “[REDACTED]??”

"[REDACTED]."

"...shit."

— yes, jeonghan finding out that jun was loaded, living in a (rather well kept) apartment with an empty room, no roommates, and an assortment of (dying) houseplants that needed care, was truly the beginning of it all.

— after all, while the chaos settled in a year after the fact when he and joshua would finally move in with jun because of circumstances that aren't truly relevant to the here and now, all true origins start a little before dramatic changes. there's always a gentle precursor, something soft that sets the stage. rumblings of change are necessary forefathers to the strength of revolution; jeonghan learning that jun was a walking line of credit with property to his name and a work ethic that would make any professor blush was necessary groundwork for the events that would follow.

and goddamn, if things didn't follow.

— but i suppose, if we're back tracking all the way to jeonghan and shua moving in with jun on one very ill timed sunday (jun had an exam in his special topics in deviance, crime, & the law course the next day), we are also brushing up against jeonghan meeting you.

another precursor to the chaos that would follow. another tremor that would shake the ground and cause things to tumble.

— you also lived in the terraces on 17th and attended svtu. you lived on the same floor as jun — two apartments down from his, no less — and his first week there, you showed jeonghan the campus shuttle routes that passed right outside the complex (he'd come to learn that the domino route was the one you took most often, as it led right to the heart of the university, but the pinwheel route was also a convenient option for evening courses).

— you and jeonghan weren't friends right away. no, you were always a friendly face around the complex and a decent conversationalist when stuck in the elevator together, but it wasn't as though you and jeonghan became fast friends. you were just neighbors for a while; just another person grabbing mail on monday afternoons, stopping at the in-residence coffee shop on bleak wednesday mornings, ordering pizza on saturday evenings and giving joshua a slice after he weaponizes his big, brown eyes.

— and then came The Series of Fire Alarm Mishaps.

— you see, at some point in the middle of the semester, someone new moved into the apartment building, in the same hall as you and jeonghan. at first, you barely even noticed the change, and then they started cooking.

— which wouldn't have been a problem. if they had been good at it.

the first few times the (incredibly loud and not unreasonably sensitive) fire alarms from down the hall had gone off, it had been unfortunate - a mild nuisance that disrupted what jeonghan had been doing, and nothing more. but then, the first few times became multiple, and from multiple, came a pattern. every other day, at least twice, the fire alarm next door would go off. and it would always be at different times - breakfast, the afternoon, early evening, even sometimes at 1:28 in the morning. the fire alarm would sound, and while it would mostly be no longer than a minute or two, it was still enough to be irritating.

you and jeonghan talked about it every time you saw each other in passing, or just so happened to be taking the same shuttle to campus (which happened quite often, anymore, since jeonghan enrolled in an extra course to help him graduate all the sooner). your neighbor and that damn fire alarm. your neighbor and their inability to cook, yet unnecessary dedication to the craft. you both joked about the inevitability of them actually burning the apartment down.

— and then, one day, the fire alarm went off at 2:19, waking jeonghan up out of a dead sleep (he hadn't meant to fall asleep at his desk, and his neck would pay for it all the next day). he heard it, and immediately decided to ignore it, knowing it would stop soon.

but then it didn't.

at about 3.5 minutes of non-stop alarms, jeonghan was annoyed enough that he left his room and staggered into the kitchen for some water, where shua and jun were already waiting around, likely with the same idea (though it was clear that shua hadn't ever fallen asleep, and perhaps jun was in the same boat, though he'd changed into sweats and a light t-shirt).

at about 6 minutes, jeonghan opened the door to see if anyone else was, well... concerned.

and at 13 minutes, he was standing outside in the brisk autumn air, agreeing with jun as he whispered that if there wasn't an actual fire but just their talentless neighbor attempting to cook in the middle of the night, he was going to kill the bastard himself.

— and there, in the middle of all this stupidity — sleepily rocking back and forth from one foot to another — and on the other side of him, was you.

— and, well, when you offered to buy him and the rest of his roommates coffee at the convenience store that was just down the street, not far, he couldn't do much beyond say yes. what was he going to do? decline your offer?

and so all four of you walked to the convenience store and aimlessly wound your way through the almost neon colored aisles. jeonghan used the opportunity to stick to you like glue and get you to open up — about yourself and your roommates, both of whom had gone home for two weeks for (separate) family vacations (not that you were jealous. clearly the superior option was to stay at the apartment, embroiled in course work and standing outside at 2:00 am because of some loser neighbor who can't cook a singular meal without burning the building to the ground, and yet refuses to have anything delivered).

— in the end, the fire hadn't been bigger than something contained in the pan ("thank god," you had said, shaking your hands in lackluster triumph, "i have a physics exam next week. i need those notes more than you know"), but at only 4 months of having a new neighbor, someone new moved in within 2 weeks at most. and, after being neighbors for almost 7 months, you and jeonghan were decidedly friends.

after all, you bought him a triangular gimbap, ice cream, and convenience store coffee. jun had slipped away with just a banana milk (which he promptly paid back the next day), and shua nearly bought out the whole store once the two of you got to talking about the best midnight (and hours after) snacks lining the walls. at the least, he was indebted to you, which could only be solved by more trips to the convenience store with more mindless conversation, and more time for the both of you to endear yourself to the other.

and the way jeonghan saw it, friendship at that point was inevitable. especially when, at the start of the next semester, you and jeonghan both had an early morning class and used the domino route to get to class via campus shuttle.

(and sure, jun had an early class, too, and drove himself to campus everyday, meaning jeonghan could have easily just gotten a ride, but he didn't. for no particular reason, really, he just never did; but one frost bitten morning after a snowstorm, when jeonghan was waiting at the shuttle stop and you stood beside him, bundled up in a thick winter coat and rubbing the tips of your fingers to keep them warm, you turned to him, the cord of the wired headphones the both of you always shared swaying from the movement (a streak of yellow against all this white, the sun in the middle of stark winter), and smiled, "i'm glad you're here with me." and maybe — just maybe — that was reason enough.)

— and thus, for reasons above explained, in the end, it all started with jeonghan learning jun was loaded. if it weren't for that simple knowledge, he wouldn't be anywhere near where he currently stood.

— which was the open doorway of jun's apartment, garbage in hand, falling in love with you.

"what?"

and you at least had the presence of mind to be flustered by it.

jeonghan could laugh, really. "is that my jacket?"

it totally was, and perhaps the way you fiddled with the sleeve of it and scoffed awkwardly, refusing to meet his eyes, was the true giveaway that you knew it most certainly was. "i don't know, is it?"

you were met with smug silence, so of course, you'd elaborate.

"i thought it belonged to my ex. i just chose what looked the warmest. it's storming out there — you might want something more than a sweatshirt if you're taking that all the way to cans." you gestured to the garbage bag — a detail jeonghan had almost forgotten at the sight of you in his clothing.

"you think your ex would have bought that?"

of course he wasn't going to take your bait in changing the subject. that would make things easy. you rolled your eyes, spinning your key ring and making it jingle. "hoseok has great style. it's just different from yours."

"and that jacket is more my style than his."

"it is," you conceded. under jeonghan's gaze you stuck one half of the jacket out, towards him. "do you want it now? you'll need it out there."

"i don't think i will. not when i'll have your sunny presence to warm me."

and for a split second your eyes narrowed. you had just come in from the storm — that much was plain to see from the wet of the jacket to the reusable grocery bag in your hand, full of pantry odds and ends. there was no need to go back out, and you and jeonghan both knew it. and not to mention that the invitation (thinly veiled) was unattractive — stay inside where it was warm or brave the stormy weather once more, all for a garbage run?

"race you to the elevator."

— and see, the truth of the fact was, it wasn't as though you made it difficult to fall in love with you (though even if you had, jeonghan would have liked the challenge, perhaps. there's fun in plenty of things). you were generous, a good conversationalist, you bitched about people with jeonghan but still tried to see the best in them, you were knowledgeable about the most random yet oddly applicable things, and for all of his teasing, you put up with him. perhaps enjoyed him.

— it certainly confused seungcheol, to say the least (but don't such things always confuse brothers).

"as someone who's had a lifetime to cherish your personality, there has to be something wrong with this y/n if they're willingly spending time with you. i'm trying to save my soul, putting up with you on the daily. they have no excuse."

"if i'm going to respond to that, you'll have to give me five minutes to run first."

and it ended with jeonghan quickly pushing away from the table, trying to duck out of seungcheol's grasp; but of course, the older brother and president of the boxing club would get him anyway, and through laughter, attempt to knock some humility into jeonghan (it wouldn't stick).

— but no need to focus on all of that, now. after all, this deep into the semester, jeonghan was busy enough without Crippling Thoughts of Romance.

— the worst damage you wrought thus far was making him choke that day you wandered into karaoke club and he was in the middle of a duet joshuji had managed to cajole him into doing on the spot (you swore up and down that you didn't know he was even in the club to begin with, but something about your flustered behavior and shua's glee at the whole affair made him consider otherwise); while it had been a (minor, he claimed) blow to his pride, it was easily pushed aside. jihoon, the bastard, might bring it up on occasion — the one (1) time angel voice yoon jeonghan chokes, and it's all on camera — but other than that, jeonghan? cool as a cucumber.

the last thing he'd do is be awkward around a crush. jeonghan was cool; jeonghan was suave; jeonghan was speaking in the third person because joshuji had been on a self-love bender a few months back and had said daily affirmations into the mirror every morning, and after finding out and teasing him relentlessly for it, jeonghan unfortunately picked up the habit.

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆

— and now that we've gotten this far, i suppose it's time we bring up Jeonghan Habits™ because there were many, the closer you and jeonghan got to each other, strings of fate drawing you ever nearer, joining you at the hip.

— for one, it seemed that ever since that first unfortunately timed run to the convenience store at hours after-midnight, jeonghan felt comfortable just showing up at all odd hours of the evening, all messy hair and too-big hooded sweatshirts (most stolen from seungcheol, he'd reveal to you one day when you were confused as to just when jeonghan had picked up a love of coton de tulear puppy conventions — enough to get a commemoriative sweatshirt, no less), with the oh-so-enticing offer of going to grab a snack.

he even called it a date, once, when you were wrapped up in three blankets and your fuzzy house slippers, weakly try to convince him to just rummage through you're cupboards instead

"you're so cold you're going to cancel our date? and here i thought we had something real."

(you'd been so flustered by the whole exchange you simply ended up going to the with him, hoping that the act of Just Doing It would buy you time against his rapid fire machine gun comebacks — probably exactly what the fucker had planned in his 4d chessboard of a brain — and jeonghan took the opportunity to file away in his mind the cute expression that crossed your face in the split second that the words hit you fully in the chest and you floundered, wide-eyed into recovery)

— another, of course, was his habit of casually leaving things at your place whenever the two of you hung out; the first few times he left something — his jacket, a pair of sunglasses, necklaces that you don't ever quite recall him taking off to begin with — you promptly returned it with the naive belief that it was a one-off mistake not like to happen again. but it just kept happening, and so eventually, you just stopped returning.

if it were important, jeonghan would have texted you about it — he texted you about all kinds of random things, anyway, his lost socks would be no more strange than texts of ootds or how particularly sparkly his eyes looked that day.

and he never did...

until you started to wear the things he left, of course.

'should i get two of these?' the text came in while you were walking to your next class, taking your sweet time since the weather had cleared up nicely and the campus shuttles were running smoothly — not a single one hand been late all week, a sure change from usual. a moment later your phone chimed again, and jeonghan had sent a picture of a silver ring with a greek key styling. it was cool enough, and fit in nicely with jeonghan's usual style of accessory (not that you were particularly knowledgeable of such things... haha.)

'sure, but why 2?'

'so you can have one of your own instead of stealing it.'

'???!?'

'look at your outfit right now. you're wearing MY necklace. it's been missing for weeks.'

'YOU LEFT IT AT *MY* APARTMENT??????'

'you still have necklaces of your own; didn't have to be mine.'

'😑'

'so what's your ring size?'

'stfu'

— in your defense, you didn't think it was an issue, borrowing the things he'd randomly leave at your apartment. it had started off innocuously enough — seonghwa and momo (your roommates, bless them) needed you to go grab a few last minute ingredients for dinner (they were the ones cooking, so charitably you offered to do the grunt work) and when you couldn't find your own sunglasses, there were jeonghan's, just sitting on your dresser and waiting to be used.

and after that, well... jeonghan had nice style, okay? you were not immune to convenient and accessible clothing. if jeonghan wasn't so forgetful of his own articles of clothing, it wouldn't be the case that you steal his favorite sunglasses and borrow his usual rings and get a little too caught up in the way his cologne lingers on his jackets and night shirts, a smell all-too comforting and somehow tempting...

— you attempted to give the necklace back later that week when you and jeonghan met up to take the domino route to university, but he just shrugged it off and told you that you might as well keep it. he already bought himself another.

and besides. it looked good on you.

— and as for the last of Jeonghan's Habits™ (certified and trademarked, of course, everything jeonghan did was protected by common law)... well... the discovery of this one came later, at a time you weren't expecting it, and so perhaps that explains why it makes you as flustered as it does.

— see, it's of no surprise that yoon jeonghan is clingy in a very positive sense.

being friends with jeonghan is always being kept in the loop, having an ongoing dialogue about most everything, doing lot of Things together and always knowing that if there's something you're even thinking of doing, jeonghan has already cleared his schedule in anticipation of going to do said thing alongside you.

— what surprised you, but really shouldn't have (so perhaps the right word is simply astonished, flustered, made giddy by the realization of), was that he was also very cuddly. and very hard to be talked out of, no less.

— and like, okay, sure, it was kind of hypocritical of you to be taken aback when you'd been indulging jeonghan of his affinity for physical touch for quite some time, now.

the surprise hugs whenever he caught you waiting for the campus shuttle or simply Minding Your Own Business, his inclination towards taking your hand to make you walk a little faster when the two of you were going convenience store diving (yes, again), the quite literal poking and prodding whenever he was attempting to get you to change your mind and agree with his worst impulses... it was all pretty damning, in retrospect. but it never really fazed you: jeonghan's cuddly sort of behavior.

though you had gotten a smug kind of glee whenever you initiated contact and jeonghan's cheeks would warm to a beautiful shade of pink before he'd counter his own seeming embarrassment with a comment like "aaahhhh y/n, you're so familiar, what would others think if they saw you?"

randomly touch jeonghan's forearm, whether to pull him closer for some reason or another or just to softly massage the skin while you absentmindedly scrolled on your phone (instagram scrolling was sacred time you and jeonghan shared — then you didn't have to send him the reel with your comments, you could just tap him on the shoulder and show him). they way jeonghan would get all shy at the touch — like maybe he felt some of those butterflies that perpetually fluttered about in your stomach whenever he was around — was all the satisfaction you could ever need.

— so yes, you were quite used to clingy jeonghan. but cuddly? you had never quite strayed into full cuddle territory... until you did.

— that fateful night, you had lovingly been given notice via a very abrupt group text that you would not be able to return to your apartment for the evening (someone was going to have company over, doing... things that familiar company do) and when you had told jeonghan of your plans to join seonghwa in his trip to the computer rooms at crescent hub (they were open 24 hours and while it was based on reservation, you were almost always able to get a seat), he offered you come to his apartment instead.

either that, or i guess you could spend your time watching the gaming club host whatever tournament they had going on — apparently jun was planning to be gone for Quite Some Time (as a senior member of the club) and shua was there... for moral support? that part was unclear, to be quite honest, but it wasn't as though shua ever needed a reason to be Busy and Outgoing, so it didn't quite matter much, in the end.

"why aren't you at crescent hub with your roommates, then?"

"and encourage them? ah... don't make me look soft."

and you're sure that the way you roll your eyes can be heard through the phone.

"i had an assignment to finish." / "you had work to finish."

"but! it's all been submitted now."

"then i'll meet you."

— after all, it's not like you were a stranger to jun's apartment — you'd hung out there plenty of times as your bond with jeonghan deepened and your friendship to shua and jun grew — and they did have a rather comfy couch... you were almost certain jeonghan's offer implied and unspoken 'you can at least get some comfortable sleep on our vertiable cloud of a couch when i'm done prying at the finer details as to just who momo decided to bring home.'

you both, after all, had a deep-seeded delight for gossip.

— and when you got there, it was exactly what you expected: jeonghan had seemingly raided the pantry finding ingredients so the two of you could make dakdoritang — excepting the carrot, of course.

despite his seeming love for convenience store runs and general lazy attitude toward preparing his own meals, cooking together seemed to be something jeonghan enjoyed lately — or at least, that's what you surmised. to you, it seemed that one day jeonghan woke up and chose cooking as a new hobby.

if you were to ask jeonghan, he would brush it off, of course, probably saying something about his mom visiting and praising jun's affinity for cooking and there was no way jeonghan could let the bastard win — but really all it had taken was one (1) absentminded hand on his chest from you and a "hannie, can you pass me the garlic cloves?" for him to make cooking with you a new personality trait of his. go figure.

— and so the two of you made your stew while debating which movie you should watch when you were done. you ended up compromising on some drama that you'd seen people claim was so bad it was good, and it really was. the cringe,,,, the mutual yelling at the tv,,,,,,, threatening the lives of fictional characters,,,,,,, talking over whole dialogue scenes because you had a brilliant rewrite in mind and jeonghan simply couldn't resist the way you looked when there was an earnestness in your eyes and an opinion on your lips,,,,

it was quite late, indeed, before you even knew it. and when you switched the tv to a music video you really wanted to show jeonghan, the autoplay sort of took over, and your mind sort of shut down... drifted off to sleep.

— you woke up at some point in the early morning; the sound of the lock clicking and the door opening wasn't the sound you were used to, in your apartment two doors down, and it was just enough to snap you awake momentarily, still half in dream yet with one foot in reality.

it was just shua and jun, and they whispered an apology before padding off to their respective rooms (jun his own, shua his shared room with hannie), clearly worn out from their gaming activities.

— but that little push to semi-wakefulness was just enough for you to take stock of where you were, and you noticed belatedly that jeonghan had never left to go back to his room. you were both sleeping on the couch, legs intertwined; jeonghan was resting his head on your shoulder and your hands were reaching out, as if almost to give him a subconscious hug.

— the embarrassment ran through your nervous system almost instantly, and when you made to slowly and gently move your limbs so you were less... interwoven, jeonghan stirred and, still sleeping, pulled you back towards him. perhaps even closer than before.

you couldn't help yourself. a giggle escaped you; perhaps half nerves, mostly endearment. jeonghan stirred again and the sound and you covered your mouth, not wanting to wake him.

he stilled soon enough, and before drifting off again, you kissed him on the forehead.

— when you fully woke up the next morning, jeonghan had already began his day, but he didn't even try to hide the fact that the both of you had unwittingly unlocked a new feature in this friendship of yours. he sort of just... took the night prior as a confirmation that cuddling was on the list of approved actions and refused to let go of you, after.

not that it bothered you, of course.

it just seemed that the butterflies in your stomach were given wild energy at this new development; all your strategies for calming them suddenly ineffective.

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆

— so.

if you had asked jeonghan at any point in his life if he were good at manipulating, his answer would be an unequivocable yes.

deceit? of course.

scheming? obviously.

lying? naturally.

blackmailing? most assuredly.

gaslighting, gatekeeping, girlbossing? undoubtedly.

changing criteria? yes.

moving goalposts? clearly.

hiding the apparent? well...

— see, the thing is... you get so good at the others that concealing the obvious isn't exactly necessary. everyone might know to be wary of the scheming, cheating, self-serving yoon jeonghan, but it didn't change the fact that he was so astute at the rest of it, image didn't exactly matter.

and besides, why save face when it was so fun to see people accuse him of what they were all very aware?

— so yes, jeonghan was quite skilled at all manner of deception. the one facet he was not so adept in was hiding his feelings toward the matter.

— thus, it should be no surprise that everyone and their mother knew jeonghan had a crush.

and it was only getting worse.

— don't ask jun when he put the dots together — he was more emotionally intellectual than he let on most of the time — and don't ask joshuji when either — that fucker had this quirk where he joked about something before it had real honest basis, but in some way only attributed to the gift of clairvoyance, he always seemed to be right. if you were to ask joshua, he'd likely recall the first time he had looked at jeonghan and wiggled his eyebrows and call that he knew then (he didn't; at least, not really).

— as for s.coups... well, don't ever ask cheol anything about jeonghan. he'd rather die than give it to you straight.

please. when he could embarrass jeonghan? seungcheol lives for that shit.

after all, what else are older brothers for?

— so yes, it was obvious to those close to him that jeonghan was in the long-suffering limbo of Having A Thing For Your Best Friend But Not Acting On It, and it had been apparent for months.

— after all, it felt like centuries ago that joshua had offered to play matchmaker for jeonghan and you — the veritable apple of his eye — and set the two of you up on a date.

it had been some lazy morning and jun nearly spit out his breakfast.

"you'd both love it! i'd get jihoon to play something romantic on the violin; well, maybe recorder—"

cue jun choking once more.

"and you could be there waiting in full suit and tie."

"with couples rings waiting in the bread basket." and joshua's eyes went comically and maniacally wide at jun's inclusion.

"ah, cheol would crash any date like that."

"but then y/n could get his blessing!"

— at some point, jun was at his wits end.

in his defense, it was him who had to see the two of you be all sweet and love-struck all the time, giggling and teasing each other on his couch in his apartment while all he's trying to do is eat a sorry excuse of a subway sandwich (eat fresh.) before jetting off to his internship again.

if you had to see that shit while eating soggy bread you'd be annoyed, too.

one more "aigoooo" while jeonghan squishes your cheeks, and you bat him away with a roll of your eyes and jun would take a knife out of the block behind him.

— especially when jeonghan started calling you "angel" at every chance he got. had jun's eye twitching, it did. never had he regretted getting roommates until jeonghan fell in love.

one day jun learned that the phrase "get a room" made at least one of you self conscious enough to at least tone it down, and he never stopped weaponizing it, since.

— of course, overtime jun's protests became background noise, but once, when your roommates and jeonghan's all went to the museum of fine arts together to celebrate the end of finals week (it was free admission so long as you had your svtu activities card), jun had deadpanned his new favorite phrase in the middle of the outdoor conversation area. jeonghan had turned to you grinning, like it was the excuse he'd been waiting for all day, and after a lighthearted "shall we?" you grabbed his hand and the two of you pranced off to explore the sculpture terrace.

jeonghan had raised an eyebrow at your choice of exhibit, but you pulled him over to a sculpture of a human figure with black wings and flashed a smile: “it’s not a private room, but i think it works.”

“if you’d prefer it, i’m sure there’s a custodial closet we could go to instead. i bet there's one right outside, even.”

you snorted. “and if i did kiss you? what would you do then?"

— you stunned him into silence. him. yoon jeonghan. 

— right as he was about to recover and shoot back some smartass comment, you laughed — the sound clear and playful, bright and radiating with warmth — and then you wandered to where they showcased student work.

— umm... uhhh... WHATTHEFUCKWEREYOUDOING WHATTHEFUCKWASGOINGONNNNNN

“angel.”

you hummed absentmindedly, only half hearing jeonghan through the internal screaming reverberating in your skull.

“y/nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn…”

he was closer now, if you focused, you were sure you could feel him, inching closer, right behind you, just to your right…

— he kissed your cheek: half on the corner of your lips, half on the soft of your skin.

— you couldn’t help yourself. you turned.

“if you were bold enough to kiss me here, i’d kiss you back. then i’d be scandalized, ‘how forward!’”

your mouth opened: in shock, in delight, in laughter, in a heavenly mix of the three. jeonghan just stood there, all self-satisfied grin.

“you could waste your time finding a comeback, or you could be forward.”

“i think i have time for both.”

☄. *. ⋆

end of file .

SVT (sophrosyne; virtù; truth) University hopes you've enjoyed your stay !

[shorthaltsjester]

the thing is that the “laudna or delilah” debate i think actually misses the complexity of laudna as a character — which i think actually gets magnificently illustrated when marisha talks about and chooses her actions as laudna. like in the game, she tends to act comfortably as laudna even in those delilah filled moments once the initial indication has been made by matt that laudna feels that presence particularly in a given way. but the vehicle of a ttrpg as the medium in which laudna exists and interacts means that there is intractable ambiguity in the “did laudna do this or did delilah?” because the answer is always at the same time that both of them chose it as it is that laudna did, because matt always brings in delilah as a reaction to the choices made, either by laudna in the narrative or by marisha as the creator orienting laudna’s choices. like tonight, marisha certainly didn’t say I’m Looking At This Sword Appealing to Delilah, but she did have laudna who was traumatized by that sword engage with it while also engaged with an action she has pointedly and continuously accounted as a coping mechanism from years of solitude with nothing but the voice in her head. laudna didn’t choose to have delilah in her mind, but she did choose to ask for more power, she did choose to act without orym’s input, she did choose to use her form of dread, whether or not she chose the form which it took. especially with the the indicators that this is a storyline alluding to addiction (something i’ve long suspected but has now been affirmed by marisha in the cooldown), it is extremely compelling that laudna is both insistent of her own responsibility when it comes to intentions but is absolutely avoidant to the point of absolute denial when it comes to consequences. this was especially apparent when imogen asked if laudna’s choices and actions were all her own and laudna insisted they were, but then ended the episode with a form of dread the image of delilah briarwood fading from around her as she repeated “i didn’t mean it.”

it is particularly interesting when she is alongside imogen because i think the thing that is the most compelling to me about them right now si something that laura (iirc) alluded to in the cooldown about how imogen has chosen a significant turn away from predathos at the same time laudna has leaned in hard to delilah. in a lot of ways imogen has been very like laudna when it comes to the importance of intentions vs. consequences, at least insofar as her experience with her powers led to a different kind of isolation than laudna’s but still led imogen to experience situations in which she was confronted by the cruelty of thoughts much more expediently than she was with the cruelty of actions. and while laudna has experienced the cruelty of actions, she ties those intensely to bad intentions as well — cruel actions come from cruel thoughts. i mean, that’s what fun scary refers to — in that first interaction with those kids, we get a clear though undoubtedly unintentional insight into the perspectives that laudna and imogen both have on the cruelty that the world contains. laudna sees no harm in the fear she instills in those children because she loves kids, her intention was fun, her actions can’t be truly harmful if she never intended it. and interestingly, imogen disagrees that laudna is fun scary at all, she actually points out that laudna is scary scary, but in a good way.

and so we have this dynamic between two characters who have been the balms to one another’s solitude — which, as has been expressed in other posts, in both cases emerged from their commitments to their outlooks: laudna continued to appear as a witch on the outskirts of town, likely engaging in haunting behaviour if her actions throughout the campaign have been any indicator, and continued to run until, interestingly, someone who could read her mind was the first person to truly realize she meant no harm. imogen isolated because she was inundated with thoughts and turned misanthropic because of how often those thoughts were negative and cruel, until someone (who partakes in actions that can very easily be considered at least appearing to be negative or scary) had thoughts that were good. and they fell in love — with a confession scene where laudna raised concern that she might be a bad person, because she herself had ill intentions in reaction to bor’dor (absolutely mediated by deliliah, but her own emotional reaction that prompted that mediation). and imogen’s rebuttal isn’t a reference to laudna’s choices or her actions but to the thoughts she’s had that imogen has been witness to.

except. except it’s been months and imogen has a mother who had the best of intentions to start with . intentions that look a lot like imogen’s own, but now she stands at the side of a man willing to risk the entire world so that he can (ostensibly) no longer have to deal with divinity. imogen’s mother who allows the murder of countless people, of every member of the hells themselves except imogen, of oryms family, to get the answers and the solution that imogen herself is looking for. and as imogen has gotten further in the journey, the role of thoughts and intention has become apparent in its limits. because it’s true that they are important, it marks a difference between ludinus and liliana absolutely when it comes to likelihood that they might have a path for redemption, but it doesn’t mark much of a difference for the lives lost. and imogen has become much more concerned with this, i think maybe most clearly in her decisions around her last few predathos diving dreams because her hesitation hasn’t been that they need to consider the sides more, it’s been that, regardless of her intent to come back to the hells, to get information for their mission, her will might still lose the fight against the pull of predathos and if she’s forced to be this vessel which might allow it free, it might not matter as much what her intentions are when she dreams.

and at the same time. laudna has been confronted with the same evidence that her worldview might not paint a complete picture, but she’s still looking at that incomplete image as the whole. as is clear in her reaction to liliana, where she sets up her position to imogen by referring to her own love for her — for laudna, liliana must not actually love imogen, couldn’t possibly if the outcome of her actions is imogen growing up without her mother and liliana aiding and abetting (even if occasionally Maybe limiting) exandrias mage criminal of the decade. except, as imogen who has started to be checked on her flawed thoughts > actions perspective points out, that inconsistency isn’t one that laudna is immune to — laudna loves imogen and the hells and undoubtedly wants to see them live in a world they can thrive in, but she’ll also give up pieces of herself and make decisions without their input that have implications for those she chooses to exclude as evident in her choice with the sword,

and so tonight’s everything was delicious . when marisha’s interparty conflict beam hits it hits and it did tonight but the conversation between laudna and imogen was truly truly fantastic and so compelling because you get both laudna so locked into the familiar comforting behaviour that thinking that her intentions are all that matters is and being confronted by the fact that right now the consequences seem so enormous that the comfort is cold and imogen realizing that the thing that she’s been struggling through with her mother — and don’t get me started about imogen’s response to her mother saying she’s made her choices for imogen and the fact that laudna’s first explanation of why she chose this was a similar appeal to protecting imogen — is the same thing that has a hold of the woman she loves, though in different forms. and god, not to add another unnecessary sidebar, but laura is truly so good at coming up with heartwrenching prompts? dialogue? i dunno what to call it but the way that taliesin is insane with one liners, laura is like that with setting up conversations and then eventually spiking them into my heart because jesus the “i just watch. [as she plunges a dagger into her heart]” “i’ll always love you, i just don’t know what to do with it” “i didn’t mean it” “i know” because that’s the thing, that’s the struggle . ethel cain voice directed at laudna and liliana. imogen temult loves you but not enough to save you. because it doesn’t matter how much anyone loves laudna if she still believes in the necessity of delilah, it doesn’t matter how much anyone loves liliana if she still believes her presence at ludinus’ side is a requirement. and that’s not to reduce the degree to which they both have undoubtedly been trained to believe those things, but it is to say that both in the text and in the real world situations to which people love to refer when reducing agency to make characters more girlboss or whatever — it’s actually explicitly the role that laudna ascribes to her own emotions and choices and value that will lead her to a life where delilah does not have full reign.

the ambiguity and complexity is that as long as laudna wants (which translates to a need for her) her power, she wants delilah and whatever words that delilah will feed her to validate the need for and/or increase that power, which means that her actions are always her own, and the consequences are always hers to bear. the messiness is her continued insistence on separating intention from consequence — because laudna never means harm, for her it’s about protection, even power doesn’t seem to be power for its own sake. even with orym tonight it was about protecting orym from the sword, but also of course about finding power for delilah so that deliliah might also grant her more power so that she can help save imogen and the hells and the world. but that means when she explains to others she can make claims like i didn’t mean to, or that the choice was all her own because as incorrect to anyone else, laudna has completely committed to her founded belief that intentions matter more than anything else when it comes to the judgement of someone and their actions.

[nugatorysheep]

What your favorite SU character says about you but it's just mean as fuck

Steven — How is being a mentally ill, people-pleasing queer going for you? Did your mommy issues and anxiety resolve themselves yet or are you still avoiding therapy?

You either disliked or were neutral about him until he got a neck. You think Future is peak cinema (correct) and can't understand why everyone else hates it. You have a better grasp on this show's characters and themes than most of the people who watched it.

Connie — You were likely the gifted kid in school but a total burn-out now. You either see a lot of yourself in this character (How are those helicopter parents of yours doing? Have you gone no-contact yet?) or you're a normie and boring to sandbox with. Probably both.

You've got a lot of Feelings™️about her and if people don't agree it causes Problems™️. In case no one has told you yet, stop caring what other people think. Your constant virtue signaling to appeal to other normies is a crutch that's just holding you back. It's okay to have fun!!

Stevonnie — You want to fuck this character, though you'd never say that out loud. You like Steven and Connie; maybe you like one more than the other, but you like both at least a little. If you're using them for shipping you're the only person in the entire fandom doing whatever hyper-specific ship you've latched onto.

Rose and or Pink — You really suck as a person! Or you used to suck but you've gotten a lot better and we stan! If you're the former you almost certainly have terrible takes on this show (but not in the way people might think), sorry, I don’t make the rules. Either way, you gotta stop finding ways to bring her back, dawg. She's gone.

Greg — You're a man (positive) and gay as hell. Gentleman on the streets and a fucking freak in the sheets. We stan. Pop off king <3

Garnet — If you headcanon her as acespec she is not actually your favorite, Ruby and Sapphire are your favorite, but you like them both equally so you just say you like Garnet. If you headcanon her as anything else you're definitely shipping her with one of the other gems, probably Pearl or Jasper.

Amethyst — Super chill person. Would be in most people's dream blunt rotation. You're a live and let live kinda guy and I respect that, but you also have no hills you'd die on so you're not the first person anyone goes to if they need serious support. You can get away with misinterpreting this character (on purpose or accidentally) because it's hard to say things about her that most people won't just shrug at and go "yeah that sounds right I guess"

Pearl — You're annoying as hell. You see yourself in this character and that's not a good thing. Your social media presence gives off the same energy as every white woman's Instagram profile. If being a victim was a contest you'd take home the gold.

You think everyone is out to get you. They're not.

You think you're being persecuted. You're not.

Most people who see you from a distance and don't know better think you're alright, so you're probably pretty well-liked in public. The only people you will get along with in close quarters are all walking mean lesbian stereotypes.

Peridot — You're annoying as hell for a different reason. You see yourself in this character too and that is a terrible, terrible thing.

She's your pfp on every website and app that will allow it. Your lifeblood is this fucking character and e v e r y o n e will know it. You're weirdly possessive of her and the hyper specific headcanons you made for her (even if you don't say that) despite every grass-fearing autistic person on the internet projecting onto her, so ironically you don't like other Peridot fans, which always ends up with you sitting alone even on websites with millions of people on them.

90% chance you're a furry, otherkin, therian or think you have DID. You think you're misunderstood, and in some ways you are, but the reality is most people don't speak dog and don't have the time or energy to learn. You need to go outside and learn to speak cat whether you want to or not

Lapis — You don't like Peridot fans or kinnies, which is weirdly in-character. You're the biggest hater but you don't hide it and I can respect that. You think Lapis is a victim, but you're only half right. You would probably fall for propaganda if it was dressed up fancy enough.

Jasper — You want to fuck this character, full stop. There's a 50/50 chance you're chill af or the most insufferable person on the planet. If you're the former you're friends with a lot of people. You float easily from one group to another, but a jack of all trades is a master of none, and you're no one's first pick if they're looking for someone close. You probably hate Lapis and her fans but you should really just let that shit go ngl

Spinel — You need therapy (derogatory) and you're making that everyone else's problem. Despite the clown aesthetic you're not very funny to be around and you should get a better sense of humor. You project onto this character way too hard and it shows in your fandom habits and headcanons, but most of the time that's fine

Like Spinel, you're a little two-faced. Some people pick up on that right away and some don't. The people who do hold you at arms length until you make it clear which clown you'd rather be. You hate it when people ship Spinel with any character besides your favorite pairing, but you'll never say that out loud unless it's a ship the people you're talking to don't like.

Blue Diamond — You're a man (derogatory) or a minor who doesn't actually understand anything about this character yet, and would immediately fall for any and all forms of propaganda

Yellow Diamond — If you think she is wearing a helmet you're a man (derogatory) and you expected things out of SU that were never gonna happen. If you think it's just hair you have a much better grasp on this character than 90% percent of SU's fandom and I'm platonically kissing you on the mouth.

White Diamond — You're a man (derogatory) or an incredibly based and sexy queer.

The Zircons — You like Ace Attorney, or would like it if you haven't played it yet. You're making them kiss sloppy style. UwU

Lars — You probably didn't like him until after he died. You will defend this boy with your fucking life. Also you should just…. go watch Star Trek if you haven't. Seriously what are you doing—

Sadie — You're an oddball. Very lax though. You have complicated feelings about Shep

Peedee — You're a little quirky, a little freaky, but you're too scared to just say that. You desperately need some fun in your life, but the people around you make that difficult. Eventually you'll find the folks that are worth hanging around. See you on the flip side :)

Ronaldo — You're the type of person this character is based on and you take it in stride. If you're shipping him with Lars, you're the only person who's opinion on this character matters.

Kevin — I dunno who hurt you but you have a terrible taste in men. You only have fun in bed if it involves a damn near human rights violation

Mayor Dewey — You're normalbirb

Any other townie — This is a trick question! No one has these as their favorite lmao

[candycandy00]

Character:Hawks

AU setting:Gothic Mansion

Spice Level:NSFW

Mood:Light

Kinks:Breeding, Bondage, Choking

~🦄

The Chase - A Hawks x Reader Fanfic

Smut. 18+. AU. Hawks as a vampire. Fem Reader. Bondage. Choking. Creampie. Vampire-related blood/biting. 

My first time writing Hawks! I hope it turned out okay! Any feedback would be adored! Divider by @benkeibear.

When you first met Keigo at the cafe, the location you both agreed upon after talking on a dating app for almost a week, you were surprised. He certainly didn’t look 5’11. But height was never really important to you, so you didn’t mind. He was hotter than his pictures led you to believe, with a bright smile and an easy going attitude that appealed to you. 

When you asked him what he did for a living, he’d only said, “A little bit of everything over the years.”

He was only what, twenty-five? How many different jobs could he have had? But you dismissed it as a joke. You noticed he didn’t eat much, mostly just poking at his food or sliding it around on his plate. It almost felt like he was trying to make it look like he was eating. But his laugh was infectious, and he had plenty of funny stories to tell about traveling to different countries. You wondered how he found the time for all of that. 

At the end of the date, he took you home. You stood in front of your door, hoping he would kiss you, but he didn’t so much as pat you on the back. 

You went on a couple more dates after that, always at night. You joked that you were worried you’d never get to see him in daylight, and he’d laughed heartily. “What? You think I’m a vampire or something?”

“Maybe you are,” you said, giggling. 

He tilted his head, strands of dark blonde hair sliding over one eye as he said, “Maybe I am.”

There was a heat to his gaze as he said it, making goosebumps appear along your arms. And for the briefest of moments, you felt the most powerful urge to flee. You ignored such an irrational feeling. Keigo had been nothing but a gentleman, and in all honesty you were looking forward to him not being one anymore. 

On the fourth date, he asked if you’d like to come to his place for drinks. When you agreed, he said, “I’ll warn you, my house is pretty big. Been in my family for generations. Just don’t be freaked out.”

Now, as you sit in the passenger side of his cherry red convertible on your way to his place for the first time, you wonder how you could possibly be freaked out over a house. 

Until he pulls into the driveway. 

“Is that a fucking castle?!” you blurt out. 

The paved driveway, leading past an ornate, open gate, heads straight to a beautiful looming castle. It looks like something from a movie, probably about Dracula. The stone structure is huge, with literal towers! And though it looks like it was built in the Middle Ages, there are modern flourishes.

All the doors and windows appear to be new, and a lavish standalone garage sits nearby. The lighting is extraordinary, with beautiful colors being beamed at the castle from all directions. Without that, pulling up to this place at night would have been terrifying. 

Keigo laughs beside you. “Yep, it’s a castle.”

You turn to look at him. “Do you live here all by yourself?”

“I have a staff of people helping me run the place, but they all went home for the weekend.”

“Oh,” you say, realizing the two of you will be alone in this enormous building. A weird little thought crosses your mind, that you could get lost in this place, or that he could easily trap you here. You dismiss it, because so far Keigo has been really sweet. You don’t understand why you keep subconsciously thinking of him as a predator. 

And besides, you’re insanely attracted to him. You don’t think you’d mind him chasing you through this castle and fucking you against a wall. In fact you’re a little disappointed that he hasn’t made any moves on you. He hasn’t even touched you yet. 

“I didn’t realize you were rich,” you tell him as the two of you walk up to the door. He hasn’t even put his arm around you. Is he shy? Or just trying to be respectful? 

“I don’t like to advertise it on dating sites. I don’t need a bunch of young girls looking for a sugar daddy,” he replies, an easy smile on his face. 

That makes sense, though with his good looks, you doubt any women who approach him would be interested only in his money. 

Once inside, you find the interior is just as fancy as the exterior. It looks like the sort of house you would imagine royalty living in. High ceilings, plush carpets in some rooms with delicate tile work in others, rich furnishings in mahogany and gold, expensive paintings on the walls, a roaring fireplace big enough for at least three Santa’s to comfortably stand in. And again the mixture of antique and modern, ancient looking vases and art pieces beside a state of the art entertainment system. 

You look around in awe as he leads you down a hallway, through two different short corridors, and across a huge dining room to reach a kitchen. It’s the most modern room you’ve seen so far, brightly lit with beautiful marble countertops and all the best in appliances. 

The thought you had earlier returns to you as Keigo pops open a bottle of champagne - that you could get lost in this massive castle. You try to remember the exact turns the two of you took to reach this room, what the halls looked like as you walked through them. Could you quickly run back to the front entrance if you need to? 

Wait, why would you need to? Why do you keep imagining scenarios like that? 

Keigo is chatty and friendly as usual as he pours champagne into two crystal glasses and sits them both on the counter near you, subtly allowing you to choose the glass you want. He’s telling you about his great great great grandfather, also named Keigo, who lived here so long ago. 

“He was a weird old hermit, or so I’ve been told,” he says. “Spent years hiding out in this castle, letting the neighbors think whatever they wanted. It caused a lot of crazy rumors to spread about him.”

You sip your drink as you nod along. “What kind of rumors?” you ask. 

Keigo gives you that look again, the one that seems to be full of desire, and something else you can’t quite identify. The one that simultaneously makes you want to mount him and run away from him in terror. “That he was a vampire.”

You laugh. “People were so superstitious back then!” But in truth, you just felt an inexplicable chill run down your spine. 

Just then you notice that, while Keigo is holding the other glass in his hand, he’s never taken a sip. It’s a little suspicious, but maybe he’s just a light drinker, or he’s being careful since he has to drive you home later. Nothing to worry about, right? So why are alarm bells ringing in your mind?

And why does that excite you?

He sits the glass on the counter and steps a bit closer to you. There’s nothing explicitly threatening about the motion, but you find yourself drawing in a sharp breath. He stops when he’s close enough to touch you if he wants. Why won’t he touch you? His hands are so close. His body is so close! You imagine him bending you over his fancy countertops and fucking you right here in his pristine kitchen. 

“What about you?” he asks, snapping you back to reality. “Are you superstitious?”

You take another sip and try to project nonchalance. “Not at all. I don’t believe in monsters.”

He tilts his head again in that way that drives you mad. “You should. We’re definitely real.”

Huh? ‘We’? You laugh, almost touching his arm playfully but stopping yourself. “You’re really funny, Keigo.”

He smiles at you, that same easy going smile that charmed you from the beginning. “You’re funny too,” he says, “the way you keep pretending you don’t realize what I am.”

There they are again, the alarm bells, singing loudly in your brain, urging you to flee. The smile fades from your lips “What are you talking about?” 

“I don’t know what it is, some kind of gene or something, but some people just instinctively know,” he says, his tone casual. Friendly. “And usually, those same people send out their own signals, whether they know it or not. Just like you can sense that I’m a predator, I can sense that you’re wired to be the perfect prey.”

You back away a few inches, leaving your glass on the counter. Your heart is pounding wildly. “I don’t understand.”

He grins. “See? There it is again. You’re scared, naturally, but you’re excited too. You’re enjoying this. I can sense your pulse getting quicker, hear your heartbeat getting faster, and…” his eyes shift down your body, “can smell how wet you’re getting.”

You flush with embarrassment. He’s never said anything remotely sexual to you before, so it’s a bit of a shock to hear it now. But the worst part is that it’s true. 

“I knew it the moment I met you. It’s like you were designed to be my ideal prey,” he tells you. And suddenly you notice his warm golden eyes are glowing with a supernatural light, looking eerie even in this well lit room. He grins again, and you can see two prominent fangs, large and razor sharp, inside his mouth. 

You edge further away from him, still in disbelief. “W-what are you?” 

“Isn’t it obvious, sweetheart? Haven’t I been givin’ you hints this whole time? I’m a vampire.”

Your eyes sweep around the kitchen. There’s a knife block, but it’s closer to him than you. Is there anything else you could use?

You hear his laugh, still infectious even now. “Looking for a weapon? Not like you could kill me even if you had a gun. No, we’re gonna have a little chase. If you can make it back to the front door before I catch you, you can go home. Hell, I’ll even call you an Uber!”

You stare at him, trying to process what he’s saying through your shock. “What happens if you catch me?”

There’s that smoldering look again, and you reflexively squeeze your thighs together as he says, “I’ll fuck your pretty little brains out and drink your blood.” 

Your breath hitches, your chest is heaving as you breathe harder, preparing to run. He smiles and says, “I’ll give you a one minute head start. Now go!”

There’s no hesitation as you rush out of the kitchen, sprint through the dining room, and down a corridor. When you get to the end of the first corridor, however, you can’t remember which direction to go. You take a chance on running left when you hear the dining room door open. He’s already coming! 

You stop around a corner and pull off your high heeled shoes. They’re too hard to run in, and they make a lot of noise on the tile. You backtrack and leave the shoes at an intersection where two halls meet, leaving it unclear which direction you went, then take a right down a corridor that looks vaguely familiar. 

As you run toward what you hope is the exit, you can’t help asking yourself if you actually want to find it. You’ve been drawn to Keigo since you first met him, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him to absolutely rail you. He even acknowledged that fact out loud. If that was all he wanted to do, you’d be running toward him. But drinking your blood? Would that kill you? Or would he just take a little? 

You hear footsteps, and panic makes you dart into a room along the hall. It looks like a bedroom, as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle but with less modern touches. In fact it could be a king’s bedroom from some medieval drama. 

On one wall is a large portrait of a man you mistake to be Keigo at first. Then you notice his clothes are from a different era and his hair is styled differently. Maybe it’s the ancestor he was telling you about. Or wait… if he really is a vampire, he could be hundreds of years old! Maybe he actually was the ancestor all along. 

You feel a warm breeze and look over to find an open doorway leading to a balcony. Red curtains are swaying in the air, and as you watch, they occasionally part to reveal a lovely view of the city at night. 

Just then, the door to the room starts to open. How does he already know which room you’re in?! Maybe it’s his enhanced senses, but you have to hide. You head out to the balcony and wait, listening as he comes into the room. You’re running out of options! 

You back up until you hit the barrier of the balcony. You look down. This side of the castle overlooks a yard that seems way too far down. Jumping would be a big risk! But you don’t have any choice!

As Keigo appears between the curtains, stepping onto the balcony, you quickly climb over and let yourself drop. You hear his voice calling for you to wait, but then you’re falling through the summer night air. You squeeze your eyes shut and brace for the impact. You hear a strange sound, like wind whooshing over fabric, and suddenly your fall stops. 

You open your eyes, wondering why nothing hurts, only to find yourself in Keigo’s arms. Behind him, you can see two enormous red bat wings that have sprouted from his back. His golden eyes now glow red, and his sharp fangs are much bigger. Is this his true form?

“Gonna give me a fuckin’ heart attack!” he says as he flies back up to the balcony and lands, still holding you. 

You squirm in his arms. “Let go!”

“Hey, I already caught you! Game’s over!” 

You go still as you realize he’s touching you. Your body is curled against his surprisingly hard chest. His hands are warm on your shoulder and under your thighs, holding you up like a bride. You look up at his face, and he looks so gorgeous, all resistance melts away. 

Without a word, you lean up and kiss him. You didn’t plan it or even think about it. There’s a magnetism that draws you to him, and you can no longer fight it. 

He carries you back inside and sits you down on the bed, leaning over you and kissing your mouth as he unbuttons his shirt. He’s way more muscular than you expected, and your hands move to his chest, slipping beneath his open shirt. His own hands are working your dress up your thighs, to your waist, then up and over your head. 

His fingers deftly unhook your bra and pull it off you, and when you’re left in nothing but lace panties and thigh high stockings, he pushes you back onto the mattress. He lifts your legs and turns them until you’re lying perfectly straight in the middle of the bed. That’s when you notice the blood red silk scarves tied to each post of the headboard. 

Keigo takes each of your wrists in turn and kisses the inside, right where you feel your pulse most strongly, then ties a silk scarf around it, effectively tying your arms to the bed. You give an experimental tug, but the silk is strong. 

When finished, he looms over you, his shirt still on but open, his eyes glowing, his blonde hair being slightly tussled by the breeze, his crimson wings spread out behind him. You’ve never seen a more mesmerizing sight in your life. 

He grins. “Nothing hotter than captured prey.”

And as he begins kissing you again, first your mouth, then moving down your neck, you feel that familiar prey instinct of wanting to escape. You jerk at your bonds, even as you revel in the sensation of his lips on your skin, his tongue running over one hard nipple before taking it into his mouth. You feel a fang ghost over the tender flesh, and shiver. 

You feel instinctive fear, but you also feel an indescribable thrill ripple through your body. You’re trapped beneath a bloodthirsty vampire, but you’ve never been more aroused in your entire life. 

That’s why you don’t struggle or protest when he slides your panties down your hips and off your ankles, then spreads you open. You’ve been waiting for this, aching for this, since you first met him. You’ve been desperate for him to touch you, to feel his hands and mouth on your heated, quivering flesh. To have his cock inside you. 

“Do you know how hard it was to control myself?” he says, planting a few more quick kisses along your stomach as he moves down. “If I’d touched you on that first date, I would’ve ended up fucking you on a table at the cafe.”

You look down at him as he rubs your dripping slit with his thumb, and ask, “Why didn’t you?” 

He glances up, looking mildly surprised, then he grins as his fingers spread your folds and he gives the first lick, right up to your swollen clit. “I didn’t think that would make a good first impression,” he answers before drawing circles around your clit with his tongue, never quite touching it but teasing it mercilessly. 

You moan, arching your back, lifting your hips from the bed in an attempt to get his tongue in the right spot. “Ahh… please…!”

He pushes one finger inside you, curling it in a way that has you gasping. “Hmm? Please what? Is this little clit feeling neglected?” 

Again he licks a path around it but never on it, making you whine. Finally, he shows mercy and wraps his lips around the tiny nub, suckling it as his finger pumps in and out of you. Your hips buck at the sudden intense pleasure, feeling his tongue run over the tip of your clit, even feeling a hint of teeth grazing over it. 

You cum within seconds, moaning and shaking, your hands balled into fists. He draws back, slowly licking his lips as he unbuttons his pants. You watch with anticipation, eager to see the cock you’ve been hungry for all this time. 

It does not disappoint. 

It’s beautifully shaped, much bigger than you would have guessed considering his height, and glistening with tasty looking precum. He pushes your legs up, hooking them over his shoulders and folding you in half, then looks you in the eyes as he pushes himself in. 

It feels incredible, his cock filling you up perfectly, rubbing you in exactly the right spots. When he begins thrusting, impossibly deep and hard, you can only let out little whimpers and cries, your mind going blank to everything but the pleasure of feeling him inside you. 

He leans forward, kissing you again as one of his hands slips around your throat. God, he’s beautiful. His glowing eyes stare into yours as his hand tightens, constricting your airflow, making your pussy clench around him in response. As you struggle to gasp in air, he runs his tongue along your parted lips and fucks into you even deeper. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he murmurs, his other hand maintaining a bruising grip on your waist for leverage. Just as you feel like you might black out, despite the hard fucking he’s giving you, his hand releases your throat. You take in gulps of air, the sudden rush of oxygen making you slightly lightheaded. 

And before you can fully catch your breath, his mouth opens wide, displaying the terrifyingly sharp fangs before biting down on your neck. 

You cry out in shock and pain, feeling his teeth tear into your skin as warm blood is sucked into his mouth. His tongue prods at the wound as his cock continues to ram into your drenched pussy. 

Well, there are certainly worse ways to go. 

As he repeatedly hits your most sensitive spots, a feeling of euphoria washes over you. The pain of his bite dulls, even as his teeth clamp down harder, and as he drinks your blood, you cum once again, trembling in his grasp. 

He pulls his face back, and his mouth is red all over, your life fluids dripping down his chin. His thrusts grow in intensity, an almost animalistic grunt escaping his bloody mouth as he fucks into you. A few seconds later, his mouth seals over the wound again, sucking out more blood as he shoves in even deeper, shooting his entire load into your womb. 

He finally pulls out of you, taking a moment to drink in the sight of your bound, bloody, fucked out form in his bed. Then he unties the silk scarves. 

“You okay?” he asks, his tone as casual and friendly as before. 

You wince as you sit up. You’re going to be sore for a few days, in a lot of places. Wait, is he not going to kill you? Drain you completely? Make sure you don’t tell his secret?

He seems to read your mind, because he laughs at your confused expression. “Don’t worry! I haven’t killed anyone since the 1500’s!”

You look at him incredulously. “Then what was the deal with that whole chase?!”

He tilts his head slightly. “It was fun, right? You really do have strong prey instincts. I don’t see that very often in the modern age. Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Especially when I saw how excited you were getting.”

You blush at that remark. “So what now?” you ask, sliding out of bed and looking for your underwear. 

“Hmm? I guess we plan our next date?” he says, his eyes returning to their normal golden color while his wings seem to retract into his back. He hands you your bra with a smile. “Unless you wanna dump me after this.”

“No, I definitely don’t want that,” you say, putting the bra on. You lightly touch your neck, feeling the sticky blood and torn skin, then hiss at the throb of pain. “But could you go a little easier with the bites?”

An apologetic look flashes over his face. “Sorry, it’s hard to control myself sometimes. I hadn’t fed in a long time, and arousal makes the bloodlust stronger. It should heal up really fast though. Something in vampire saliva makes their bites heal quickly.”

“Good to know,” you say, pulling on your dress. 

He’s smiling at you in that easy going way you find so charming. “Start coming over more often. If you get used to this place, our chases might last longer.”

You stop and stare at him. “Wait, you’re gonna keep chasing me?!”

He grins. “Only if you keep running, sweetheart.”