#as I get older my sexuality becomes more and more confusing

[slu7formen]

disarmed by desire. | luke castellan x f.r

₊˚⊹♡ luke can’t seem to get out of his head a certain someone, things become even harder when that certain someone, is an aphrodite’s daughter.

warnings: seduction, sexual tension, luke is obsessed over reader, reader’s an aphrodite’s daughter, reader has long hair (not really a warning but whatever).

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

pt2 here

Luke Castellan was obsessed with you.

No, not obsessed. He worshipped you.

He didn’t even know when it started. It was not one thing or situation that started it all, but little small things he witnessed that eventually lead to his confusing and strong feelings he wanted to desperately hide.

Being an Aphrodite’s daughter was no joke, nor was it falling for one of them. All of your brothers and sisters shared an unbeatable beauty. Each one of you is so different, but yet so similar. But the more you grew since your arrival to the camp when you were fifteen, the more you stood out to Luke’s eyes. The Aphrodite cabin girls were known for their charm, but you seemed different, less concerned with vanity and more with genuine connection.

The first flicker appeared during Capture the Flag. Luke wasn't actively participating, a rare occurrence for the camp's best swordsman. Instead, he leaned against a tree, nursing a minor but piercing shoulder wound himself, when she appeared. She wasn’t running across the battlefield like a fiery warrior, but holding a kid’s hand as he was a whimpering mess walking behind her, he sat down on a rock and she instantly attended his bloody knee.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t worry” her voice had said, and the little kid almost immediately stopped sobbing. “Other kids can be mean sometimes. What’s your name?”

Luke watched, spellbound, as your nimble fingers, surprisingly calloused for a daughter of Aphrodite, expertly cleaned and bandaged the wound. Sunlight kissed your hair, turning the braids into strands of melted gold. Laughter danced in your voice, calming the kid down and blending with the clash of swords.

It wasn't just your beauty, though that was undeniable. It was the tenderness in your touch, the quiet confidence radiating from you, a stark contrast to the usual flirtatiousness Luke associated with your cabin. He quickly realized you were also one of the few Aphrodite’s daughter who had the ability of influencing others with your voice; charmspeaking.

Even when your voice didn’t resonate for him, but for the little kid you were attending, he felt undeniably attracted to your sweet melody, maybe that’s why he stared so long at you too.

Then, your eyes met his. A smile bloomed on your lips. "Need some patching up yourself, brave knight?"

His breath hitched as your eyes pierced his, a blush creeping up his neck. He stammered, "No, I'm good." But the lie tasted bitter on his tongue. He wasn't just injured physically; a new wound had opened in his chest, one caused by a flirty smile and a concern genuine enough to pierce through his thick built-up walls.

Luke's attraction to you wasn't solely physical, but he'd be lying if he didn't find himself momentarily stunned by the way you carried yourself.

He couldn't help but steal glances when you wore shorter skirts or crop tops that hinted at the toned physique earned through years of training, or when the older campers organized a secret night out at the lake in which you made sure to wear the best bikini you could find. He'd catch himself mesmerized by the way sunlight would dance on the curves of your body, sending a flicker of heat through him and his own veins. There was an undeniable beauty in your perfectly applied makeup, but it only served to highlight the mischief sparkling in your eyes and the warmth etched on your smile.

It wasn't just the jealousy your beauty ignited in other girls, or the admiration you garnered from younger campers. It was the way you moved, how confidence flowed through you like liquid gold, making even the simplest actions seem captivating. One afternoon, he saw you braiding wildflowers into your hair, your fingers moving with practiced ease, and he found himself staring with parted lips, hypnotized by the delicate beauty you created.

He started finding himself drawn to her laughter, its rich melody echoing through the camp. He'd catch glimpses of her practicing archery, her form uncannily elegant even as she sent arrow after arrow into the bullseye.

She was perfect.

His mind would try to rationalize, tell him it was the warrior in you that drew him in, the way you handled a sword with both grace and ferocity. But deep down, he knew it was more than that. It was the way your beauty existed in perfect harmony with your strength, a potent combination that left him both breathless and curious.

He wouldn't admit it out loud, not even to himself, but the truth was, Luke found himself daydreaming about brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, feeling the warmth of your skin against his fingertips as he leaned it for a kiss of your sugar lips. Something as simple as that had him zoning out of every conversation and forgetting about activities in the camp. He imagined the playful glint in your eyes when you caught him staring, the teasing lilt in your voice as you challenged him to a duel.

Until, well… a true duel emerged. Summer was just starting after all, and practice needed to be done.

Steel sang beneath the afternoon sun as their practice began. The sky was painted with orange and bright yellow colors, as your darkened figures danced around the field. Luke, known throughout camp as the prodigy at sword fighting, moved with a controlled ferocity, his blade a blur of deadly grace. But his opponent today wasn't your average camper. You wielded your sword with the effortless elegance of a former ballerina, impressive to be someone who’s main skill is not fighting, he had to admit. Each parry was a pirouette, each attack a leap defying gravity.

Sparks flew as your blades clashed, but where Luke relied on brute force, you danced around him, using your agility and unexpected angles to deflect his blows. He felt a frustrated flush creep up his neck and loudly beat inside his chest, every missed strike fueling the unspoken tension swirling between you.

Sweat already glistened on your sun-kissed skin, adding a raw allure to your perfectly applied makeup. It dripped down your collarbone and hid underneath your shirt.

Luke fought with intensity, fuelled not just by the thrill of the duel, but by the desire to impress the captivating enigma before him. You, in turn, met his ferocity with playful taunts and flirtatious dodges, your laughter tinkling in his ears.

Some campers have forgotten about their own practices, drawn to the captivating spectacle between you two. Whispers swirled about Luke's unmatched skill, your surprising prowess, and the undeniable spark crackling between you.

“Look at that” Grover shook Annabeth’s arm, eyes pierced in two shadows swiftly moving around the grass, clashing their blades with resonating grunts and heavy breaths.

“Who’s that?” Percy suddenly asked, eyes wide and parted lips hypnotized by the slender figure whose hair flew around like it had its own life.

“yn, an Aphrodite’s daughter” his friend explained. “Not bad at swords at all, though. But she’s got Luke on his nerves”

Percy nodded. “Yeah, I can tell”

But Annabeth laughed. “Not that kind of nerves. Let’s just say she’s enjoying the attention Luke gives her”

The fight went on, each passing moment stretching the boundaries of skill and endurance. Your movements were a whirlwind of elegance and precision, forcing Luke to constantly adapt, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“Tired, hero?" you purred, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you walked around him and twirled your sword, the sunlight reflecting off its polished surface. "Perhaps a touch of Aphrodite's charm is what you need?"

Luke gritted his teeth, channeling his growing attraction into focused strikes. But despite the heat of the battle, your image kept blurring his vision - your smile, the way your hair fell around your face, how your cheeks flushed red and your glossy lips parted as you blocked his movement against you one more time. He felt his defenses crumbling, his usual stoicism replaced by a raw need to prove himself, not just as a swordsman, but as a man worthy of your attention.

“Careful, princess. Playing with fire might just burn you” he countered as he parried a particularly fierce blow, the impact sending a tremor up his arm. His voice was low enough for only you to hear.

"Oh, Luke" you laughed. “Thanks for worrying so much about me but, I know how to handle a little heat" You lunged, your blade aimed for his shoulder. He barely deflected it, the tip grazing his bicep, sending a jolt of adrenaline through him.

In a swift, mesmerizing blur, your blade danced around his, finding an opening. The clang of steel resonated as your sword disarmed him, sending his clattering to the ground. Silence descended, broken only by the ragged rasp of his breath.

He lets his knees fall to the ground, thinking you would have enough mercy for him to give him a break. But he found himself with the tip of your blade resting gently under his chin. You tapped it twice.

“Up, Castellan” you demanded. He looked up at you.

Your eyes, sparkling with both victory and amusement, held him captive. Sweat and dust smudged your face, adding a primal beauty to your already breathtaking features.

A slow smile tugged at his lips, not of defeat, but of something deeper. He lifted up his hands. "Seems I underestimated the true power of Aphrodite's daughters" he rasped, his voice husky with exertion and something else – an undeniable desire.

“Hell yes you did!” one of your sisters replied, earning a few laughs from the rest of the campers.

The small crowd erupted in cheers once the battle was determined as won by you. Luke eventually got up, sword still under his chin. He was much taller than you, to which you had to lift your own head up to fully see his face.

The roar of the crowd faded into a distant hum as Luke only focused on the heavy pounding on his chest, sword dangerously still close. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, tracing a path past the flush blooming on his cheeks.

"And it seems that our little hero falls not just to skill, but also to some… irresistible charm" you purred, amusement tugging at your lips.

Luke grinned, a touch cocky, a touch breathless. "Perhaps," he conceded, voice husky with exertion. "But I wouldn't call it defeat” he cooed as you slowly put your sword down, placing it next to you. His gaze dropped, tracing a slow path down the curve of your sweat-kissed neck, lingering on the way your shirt clung to your form. Your exposed legs shined underneath the weak sun. The air crackled with unspoken desire, the playful banter now infused with something hotter, more primal.

"Besides," he murmured, voice low and dangerous, "victors deserve their spoils, don't they?"

His words hung heavy, loaded with hidden meaning, a meaning only the two of you seemed to understand now. You felt a blush creep up your neck, surprised by the sudden shift in his usual way of being towards you. You knew he knew you flirted, that you did it with ease. But this was different. This was Luke Castellan, the stoic, the untouchable, and suddenly, he was playing your game.

"And what kind of spoils are you thinking of, big boy?" you countered, your voice barely a whisper.

Luke looked around, campers long gone, already going back to their own activities as soon as your tense situation ended.

He stepped in closer, the space between you shrinking to a charged silence. "Maybe,-" he rasped head down and still heavy breathing, "a dance with the warrior who disarmed me not just with her blade, but with her breathtaking distraction."

His eyes flickered down to your lips, the unspoken desire sparking a flame within you.

“Or maybe something a little more private, as you wish” he continued.

The world seemed to shrink to the heat emanating from your body, the intoxicating scent of wildflower and victory mingled with sweat. Your pulse quickened, a blush blooming on your cheeks.

You laughed in disbelief, smoothly placing your long hair on one side of your head, bright mane elegantly falling like a cascade without you even trying. "Bold proposition, handsome" you replied, voice barely a breath, still trying to catch it. The nickname twisted Luke’s guts, in a good way, might as well have woken up something else. "But maybe you should focus on winning a proper duel before demanding rewards"

He chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through you. "Challenge accepted, my lady” he whispered, stepping back and raising an eyebrow. "But know this; our next battle won't be fought with steel, but with wit, charm, and a touch of something… different"

You tilted your head to the side as he took his sword from the grass. "And this time, I won't underestimate an Aphrodite's daughter, or the power of warrior who knows how to play just as dirty as she fights"

This wasn't the playful banter you were used to, but you sure liked it. This was Luke Castellan, awakened, and the thrill of it was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"We shall see, Luke" you countered, your voice husky with a newfound nervousness as you pronounced his name. "We shall see."

As you turned to address a new opponent on the field, the memory of his voice, hot and suggestive against your ear, lingered on your skin. This wasn’t what you started, this was a dance of unspoken desires fueled by sweat, steel, and the awakening of a forbidden hunger in the heart of Luke Castellan. And you, the daughter of Aphrodite, were ready to play.

He couldn't help but watch you go, his heart brimming with a newfound determination. He admired your skill, your wit, your beauty, and most of all, the way you made him feel – breathless, excited, and utterly captivated. Your golden figure disappeared into a new crowd of campers looking for someone else to fight.

This was about to be one of the best summers ever.

pt2 here <3

I’m so delulu over this man istg

Currently reading PJ 3rd book :) Had to retake my lecture after I watched the show

ALWAYS OPEN FOR REQUESTS! <3

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[charmercharm3r]

Phases

Phase One: Emotion Sickness

LMH, HJS

Masterlist, Story Masterlist

wc: 8.7k

Story Synopsis: Whoever said patience is a virtue have never met Jisung and Minho.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, poly!minsung (jisung chapter focus), dom!jisung x brat!reader, mxm, overcome angst, alcohol consumption, unprotected but clean piv, orgasm denial, a nice lil slap, lots of teasing and back talk, marking, talk of training reader, cream pie, stupid asses in love

Phase One ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟPhase Two

Being best friends with Jisung is like living in a sitcom every day of your life. Everything about him is comical and endearing and you love every bit of him and his huge personality. You’d been friends with him for so long that when he sat you down, worried look on his face, and told you he liked both boys and girls you raised an eyebrow at him, “am I supposed to act surprised?”

“You’re not?” His expression changed from worry to confusion.

“As if we’re not a pair of bisexual assholes.”

“Wait, you like girls too?!”

“How have you survived this long?” You stood from your seat and pressed a mockingly sweet kiss to the top of his head, pulling him into a hug.

Nothing in your friendship had changed other than things were a lot more open between you and Jisung. The two of you shared love interests and swapped between them like clothes back and forth, generally no relationship going past anything other than a second date and maybe taking them home. You both even went to testing centers together to make sure neither of you contracted any of the nasty. Definitely fun, reckless things kids in college did. That was, until Jisung met Minho in your senior year.

Minho was a few years older than you both, had a permanent job and lived on his own. He was his own person that somehow wiggled his way into your duo to become a trio. You weren’t mad at it, by any means, Minho was one of the most attractive, intriguing, successful men you’d ever seen. For that reason, you questioned why he wanted to be friends with Jisung, and even more, friends with you.

It became evident early on that he wasn’t leaving either of you alone any time soon and you became used to his presence, eventually coming to the point where you wanted to be around him just as much as you did Jisung. The three of you were the pinnacle of friend groups. So bound at the hip, none of you ever realized how strange it looked on the outside.

But Jisung and Minho started spending more time together, without you. Sure it sucked and yeah, you were hurt that they never bothered to invite you, but Minho was always Jisung’s friend before he was yours. You always just thought the three of you were a package deal, not accessories to be mixed and matched.

They made up for it in time after you expressed your feelings and were gracious not to make it a bigger deal than you wanted it to be. There weren’t even any tears shed… by Minho. You and Jisung, on the other hand, were absolute jokes of a mess, faces red, covered in tears and snot running down your noses, weeping into each other’s arms because you’re both the most dramatic people any of you know. When you pulled Minho into the hug, squishing Jisung between your bodies, he thought he might’ve shed a tear with how tightly you held him. But as the two of you fell apart, Minho wouldn’t bring himself to unravel out of sheer need to protect his only two constants. So he wrapped himself around you and Jisung, blanketing you both until your breaths and heartbeats returned to normal.

“C’mon Min, it’s just a little get together. You don’t even need to bring anything other than your pretty, pretty face,” you smiled up at the brunette who was flowing about the kitchen while you sat on the counter.

“You’re in my way,” he murmured and reached around your body to grab whatever he needed.

“You’re avoiding the subject.”

“Not avoiding. Just ignoring.” 

“Rude.”

Just as you spoke, the sound of the front door rang through the apartment, “who’s rude?” Jisung sounded. He kicked his shoes off and joined you and Minho, sitting on a stool at the kitchen island.

“Your boyfriend. He doesn’t wanna go to Changbin’s party tomorrow.” Neither of the two reacted at the labeled nickname. They were used to you making jokes, even turning it around and saying they were your boyfriends, too.

Minho peaked his head out from around the refrigerator door to look at you, “you said it was a ‘little get together.’”

“Potatoe, potato.”

“Why don’t you wanna go to Changbin hyung’s thing? Didn’t you agree to give him some cookbooks as a housewarming gift or something?” Jisung snatched a crouton from the salad bowl Minho was preparing, earning him a sharp look from the older.

“I just don’t feel like socializing.” Minho groaned into the fridge, closing the door around his head, hiding.

Jisung stood and wrapped his arms around Minho to playfully shake him back and forth, “pleeease, hyung?”

“Pleeease, Min?” You copied Jisung’s tone, “it’ll be so much fun. We can drink and eat good food and–”

“Fine,” he pulled his head out of the fridge and pushed Jisung away, “but we’re leaving by 10.”

None of you left by 10, and the housewarming party was not little. It was like you were back in college with how many people you didn’t know crammed into one room. And like most college parties, everyone was wasted beyond belief, even Changbin who was meant to be hosting. You, Minho, and Jisung tried greeting him only to be met by his overly affectionate persona that showed face when he was drunk. He had slung his arm over your shoulder and slurred incoherent sentences in your ear that made you laugh.

Minho didn’t like that, he shoved Changbin off of you and let him fall to the couch to let someone else deal with.

As the three of you made your rounds to greet everyone that was sober enough to speak to, you came to the conclusion that you couldn’t let your friends be shit faced without any supervision. You took it upon yourself to watch over them, keep their face out of toilet bowls so they don’t drown and put a pillow under their heads when they finally passed out. Chan was sort of helping, though only for a little because Jisung convinced him to take a few more shots knowing how much of a lightweight he is, and Chan was soon down for the count as well and taking up space on the hallway floor. Felix and Hyunjin were nowhere to be found, you could only guess they either left early or occupied one of the bathrooms to share the toilet. Seungmin refused to let you help him make it to the couch, Minho had to throw him over his shoulder to cooperate, and Jeongin followed you like a lost puppy until you coerced him into Changbin’s bed beside him where they both fell asleep.

You were too absorbed in getting all the other strangers out of the house and making sure your friends didn’t die that you didn’t realize it had probably been hours since you’d spoken to Minho or Jisung. Even if you arrived with and planned to leave with them, you suddenly felt lonely.

Turning down the music and flicking on the lights, you picked up whatever trash you could to get ahead of cleaning when you heard voices coming from the kitchen. Surely, it was your best friends because they would never leave you behind. Without thinking, you headed for the garbage can in the kitchen and hoped to talk Minho into forgiving you for keeping them out so late. The voices fell silent, as did your footsteps when you tiptoed over a passed out Chan to step into the room. You laughed at his sleeping form, using his jacket as a blanket and one of the couch’s throw pillows tucked beneath his head. 

Just as you entered the kitchen’s doorway, your eyes fell upon what was both the most confusing and entrancing of scenes. Pinned between the countertop and Minho’s body was Jisung with his fingers carding through the brunette’s hair, tugging him closer while their lips moved in together in a delicate dance. The sound of their mouths colliding and lungs striving for air was the only thing you could hear, ringing in your ears like a siren song. Minho’s hands snaked around the younger’s waist and made him look small in his grasp. You particularly watched the way neither of them seemed to be in a hurry and how gently they held one another. Your hand moved on its own, coming up to your mouth to touch your lips like they were longing for the same warmth. The movement made the plastic red cups in your hold drop to the floor with a loud clatter, scaring you into dropping everything else, too.

The two boys pulled away from each other in the blink of an eye, immediately realizing that it was you. Their stares were wide and frantic and ears tinted red. Jisung scratched at the back of his neck and readjusted his shirt, Minho ran his fingers through his hair, and both their lips plump, glossy, kiss bitten. They looked between each other and back at you, then each other again before taking a step forward in unison towards you. You took a step back, still unsure of what to do. Neither of them pressed again, just watching your movements.

“I didn’t mean to intrude…” you laughed out of nervousness and embarrassment, moreso the latter hoping they couldn’t see the pink that covered your cheeks. “I’m… I’m gonna go home.”

“We’ll come with you,” Jisung was quick to speak, holding his hand out. You backed away another step, an anxious chuckle leaving you.

“That’s okay. I– I’m gonna sleep at my own place tonight.” Jisung backed down, knowing that the sympathetic smile on your face was enough to show you weren’t mad or upset, just needing space.

However, Minho looked like a lost puppy that was just kicked to the ground, more than hurt. The sheen that covered his eyes were painful to look at, as though you’d been the one to hurt him. As far as that was from the truth, you still had to blink a few overwhelmed tears away while simultaneously feigning a smile so hard your cheeks hurt. His hands were less antsy, clutching one over his chest. As you looked between them, you swiped the stray moisture from your eyes and gave them a thumbs up, “I’ll see you guys… uh… soon… Bye.”

With that, you left, hoping the night air would make the fog in your brain dissipate.

Out of all the things you expected the night to bring, seeing your two best friends kissing definitely wasn’t one of them. By no means were you angry, not at them, at least. Confused, sure, but who wouldn’t be? More than anything, you were curious. They seemed so comfortable with each other, as though they’d been doing it for years.

If you hadn’t alarmed them, what would have happened next? If you hadn’t run away, what would they have said? If you hadn’t reacted so badly, would you be asleep next to them and not in your own bed alone?

As you laid facing the ceiling, your mind wandered back to the night before. The sounds of their wet lips smothering one another, the grip of Jisungs fingers pulling Minho’s hair so sweetly and Minho caressing Jisung like he was fine china. You wondered when the hell that had happened, when they happened. There wasn’t a day since you had expressed feeling left out that they had neglected inviting you, so how the fuck did you miss all the signs? And why was it bothering you that you did? You should be beyond the moon that your two most precious people in the world are seeing each other, because they’re perfect. They’re perfect together and you couldn’t have picked anyone better to make them happy. Right?

Right. They’re carbon copies in different fonts, strangely perfect and perfectly strange. Why does your chest feel so tight? Since when did your heart beat in your stomach? There’s no way you could be jealous, or else you’d be an even shittier person than you thought you already were.

In the two days you had been ignoring their texts and phone calls– mostly Jisungs’s– you ran through every possible explanation your smooth brain could come up with. There was that they were drunk and it was a spur of the moment thing. Though, that wouldn’t explain either of their reactions, if that was the case then they would’ve laughed it off. You also theorized that maybe Jisung had food on his face, it was a common enough occurrence that you couldn’t rule it out entirely. Yeah, that’s the one. Minho was helping him because Jisung would rather aimlessly lick his tongue around his lips than use a napkin, and it just so happened that they—

Knock, knock, knock.

You weren’t expecting anyone, and deliveries can never make it up the six flights of stairs to get to your front door. Haphazardly, you tiptoed to the door and looked through the peephole. Jisung was bouncing up and down in his spot, ashy blonde hair messy like he’d just wrestled with a bear. His head snapped straight up to the dark side of the peephole, “Y/N, c’mon. I heard you walk up to the door.”

“Fuck,” you curse to yourself before letting him in.

Jisung pushed his way through before you even had the opportunity to open the door all the way, kicking off his house slippers and pacing around your living room. Slowly shutting it behind you, you leaned your back against the door and clutched onto your elbows. He waved his hands around like he was having an internal battle with himself. In fact, Jisung looked like he’d been fighting that battle for the past two days. He was still dressed in his house shorts and a ratty old shirt you remember him buying years ago, there was a hole in his sock where his big toe was and it made you smile small at his never ending hardheadedness even after both you and Minho told him to throw the pair away.

“Ji,” you called, voice cracking slightly. He stopped his stride and eyes shot teary daggers into your soul. “You don’t need to explain anything to me.”

“B– but I need to! Things are so much more complicated than it looked when you found us and you deserve answers because you’ve never once kept anything from us and–”

You took a few strong steps forward to catch him by the shoulders and came face to face. He was almost shaking in your hold, letting your hands warm the cold skin of his neck to sooth him. Jisung melted into your touch and you could feel him already beginning to calm, though his lip still trembled, so much he wanted to say but had no idea how to say it. So you spoke first, “you two are my most favorite people in the entire world. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“That’s the problem,” Jisung took your hands and guided them to his cheeks, keeping you from moving. He took a closer step into you, “you’re our favorite person. And the way you looked at us…” The way he referred to the pair of them made you feel just that much more sick in your gut. “I’d rather die than have you look at me like that again.” His hands held yours tighter, squishing your palms to his cheeks to the point of his lips puckering. 

You didn’t say anything, instead waiting for him to calm down enough so that he could articulate himself the way he wanted. When he did, Jisung sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I need to tell you something but you need to promise me you won’t run.”

“You know I have a 14 minute walking mile time.” He laughed breathily and guided you both to sit on the floor, couch behind your backs with your hands still glued to his cheeks. “You can tell me anything.”

“Min wanted to wait, but I can’t stand not talking to you for so long–”

“It’s been two days.”

“Exactly. And I’m going crazy because I love you so much…” Jisung gritted his teeth as he said it, you filled the tense silence by whispering, “I love you, too.”

“No, no… Y/N. I love you,” his tone went higher the more he spoke, scared of the blank, expressionless look on your face. Your silence made him keep talking, “I’m in love with you and I’m in love with Minho and he’s in love with you, too. We’re in love with you and I can’t take another second without you knowing that.”

Either you felt everything at once or you felt nothing at all, though you doubted the latter was the issue. The problem was that you didn’t know what it was you were feeling, the two days of voluntary solitude wasn’t enough for you to understand the panging in your chest and how your heart was about to fall out of your ass or the way you wanted to jump Jisung’s bones and hug him until you molecularly phased into his body. All that, and all you could say was, “I love you, too,” again.

It seems he had the same thoughts you did because Jisung crashed his body into yours and sent you slamming into the floor with him keeping you in a bone crushing embrace. His head stayed buried in your neck and hand tangled in your hair, the way you remember him doing to Minho. The feeling of him pulling you in closer by the roots had you wrapping your legs around his torso so the two of you were shaped around one another like a vine. How long you stayed like this, you didn’t know, just that he left supple kisses along the junction of your shoulder that made your head spin with adoration. 

More than likely it was hours later that the two of you made your way into your bed with a laughable amount of snacks and coffee to keep you awake for another two days, snuggled beneath the covers. This was normal, in bed with him doing nothing but talking and sharing your thoughts was what you and Jisung did on a regular basis. Except now, he was on his side, head propped in his palm and looking at you like you held the world in your hands. Little to your knowledge, he always looked at you like that. It was only at this moment did you realize.

“When did you and Min… get together?” Your voice was soft, listening intently.

“The same time you got mad at us for leaving you out. That wasn’t intentional and I already knew how I felt about you. I was just… caught up in the moment for a little? God, I had never felt so shitty in my life, making you cry like that.” Jisung lifted his hand to thumb at your cheek as you smiled into his touch.

“Yeah, I didn’t really appreciate that either,” you joked. “So… you’ve known you liked me–”

“Love you,” he corrected.

“Loved me,” Jisung nodded in approval. “And you told Min before you told me?”

“I was scared! You don’t have the best track record with confrontation, babe.” You both giggled at the recall of the previous night, your head falling against his chest to hide the tinge of pink on your cheeks. His free hand held your cheek to his pec and soothingly massaged your scalp until you both relaxed.

It was silent again for a little as you readjusted to lay completely in his arms, engulfed in his scent and body heat. As you laid there, your mind went through all of the times where the three of you were together, you scanned the background of your memories for all the weird stares you’d get from passersby or comments your friends made, even the times where they’d call themselves your boyfriends and how easily it rolled off their tongues.

“Okay.”

Jisung looked down at you, humming with confusion, “okay?”

“Break it down for me.” You drew meaningless shapes into his skin through his shirt, feeling his heartbeat pick up just a little. “I wanna know how this is… all gonna work.”

“Oh! O– okay, well,” Jisung took in a large breath before reaching for your fidgeting hand and intertwining your fingers. “We’ll go slow, step by step, take as much time as you need to feel comfortable. Phase one, we do everything we already do just with a few… more than friendly perks.”

You lingered on the way your hand fit in his so nicely, skin soft and his pretty fingers decorated with rings. “What about Minho? You said he didn’t want you to tell me yet.”

Jisung sighed at the mention of the older. “We let him bring it up at his own pace. He scares away like a cat, y’know.”

The longer Jisung played with your hand, the longer you yearned to touch him, more of him. Mentioning Minho made you remember the tight grip he had in the brunette’s hair, how sweet he sounded when kissing him. You bit your lip at the thought and was suddenly raging with confidence. “So,” you sat up and looked at him, now towering over his figure. “If I wanted to kiss you, would I have to wait to do it infront of him?”

“Y– you wanna kiss me?” Jisung’s eyes widened, pads of his fingers coming up to press against his lips.

Taking his hand away, you guided it to your neck the way he did to you earlier. “Since we’re being honest, I can’t stop thinking about that night, you and him.” His grip tightened just a little as your hand splayed over his chest and slowly rose up. “Can I? Kiss you?”

“Oh my god, I’ve been waiting for you to as–”

Jisung pulled you into him before he could finish his thought, slotting against you with ambition. He felt just as you imagined him, eager but mindful in how to hold you, letting you set the tone with just closed mouth smooches as the sounds of your lips smacking bounced off the bedroom walls. Both his hands found their way into your hair and pulled you impossibly closer until your body fell onto him entirely. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, kissing your best friend until you were both breathless and needy, knowing better than to do anything more.

But oh, how you wanted to. You wanted to kiss him everywhere, make him cower into the sheets and make him feel how much you loved him. There was just too much right now, too much to be figured out. A night of desire wasn’t worth a lifetime of friendship.

So as you pulled away, reluctant Jisung whining and chasing after you for more, you let your forehead rest against his and let out a satisfied laugh. “Slow,” you whispered, letting him pepper kisses to your cheeks.

“Can’t we just jump to phase three?” He breathed against your skin.

“What’s phase three?”

Jisung’s lips made their way down your neck, his tongue leaving wet streaks the further he descended. “You, me, Min, a big ass bed covered in rose petals and candle light. Maybe a kick ass playlist to set the mood–”

The sound of your phone ringing made the both of you jump as if you were being caught doing something illegal. You broke into another fit of giggles when you found out it was Minho calling you. “Hey, pretty boy,” you answer him with a grin, still looking down at Jisung who stared up at you fondly.

“Jesus, Y/N. Are you okay? Why haven’t you been answering? Are you home? I– I’ve tried calling you for days–”

“Two days, Min.”

“Days. It’s been days.” Jisung could hear his voice booming through the phone, laughing and shrugging at how it’s the same thing he’d told you.

“I’m okay.” You eased his worries with two simple words, hearing him sigh on the other end of the call.

“You’re okay,” Minho repeated, relieved.

There was a pause in his breathing, probably unsure of what to say as he walked on eggshells. You knew this about him, he needed careful approaching, as Minho doesn’t like what he doesn’t already know. “I’m coming over tomorrow,” you stated.

“I’d be upset if you didn’t.”

Chuckling lightly, you let Jisung bring your fingertips to his lips and press a kiss to them. As you smiled at the man beneath you, you spoke into the phone, “love you.”

“Whatever… Love you, too.”

“Love you, too!” Jisung yelled into the speaker before you hung up, hearing Minho let out a strangled call of the other boy’s full name and the line went dead.

Jisung immediately took your phone and tossed it aside so he could kiss you again. And again, and again, and again, until both your lips were raw and bruised and chapped.

He slept over and the two of you went over to Minho’s the next afternoon. You were dizzy with how quickly things were changing in your trio’s dynamic, but chose to embrace it rather than question it. Jisung assured you that everything will move as you chose, there was no pressure to do anything you didn’t want to— except talking to Minho. That was something the two men previously agreed that that was Minho’s conversation to have with you. It made you nervous, but if you know him like you think you do, it shouldn’t be anything to worry about.

Nothing was out of any sorts. The topic of the housewarming party was nowhere in sight as you ate lunch, stayed for dinner and even dessert, deciding to call it a night a bit later.

Days went by like that. In front of Minho, everything was the same. But when you and Jisung were alone, things began to get more and more heated. Hands roamed further, kisses became more desperate, you had to force yourself off his lap out of guilt that Minho didn’t know what was happening.

“Baby, you think I wouldn’t tell him? He knows,” Jisung explained after what was probably the fourth or fifth time that week you’ve stopped before you could even get started.

“He knows?! For how long?!” You fully slammed on his crotch, Jisung wincing in pain and accidentally knocking his head back against his headboard. Crossing your arms over your chest, you could feel his cock twitch in his pants at the heavy contact.

“For a few days— can you not sit—“

You intentionally sat deeper, crushing him. “When exactly did you tell him?”

“Three days ago— Y/N, my balls, please—“

“We could’ve had sex three days ago without me feeling like a guilty piece of shit?!”

“There’ll be no dick to have sex with if you don’t get up!” You lifted your hips with a roll of your eyes, Jisung sighing with relief as the pressure alleviated. “I briefly mentioned it in passing that you were a little weary about moving forward without talking to him.”

“Oh… Well, what did he say?”

“That he’s getting there. He’s just really embarrassed,” he caught your hands fidgeting again, holding them tightly in his own before guiding your palms against his chest.

“Embarrassed? About what?”

“How you found out. Let him tell you the details, I think it’s better that way.” You nodded, exhaling deeply as your heart sank a little that Minho was too embarrassed about the whole thing to even speak to you.

“Is he… embarrassed of me?” The sting of hot tears wanted to swell in your waterline, suddenly overwhelmed with guilt that you caused him to feel such a way. You know Minho, you know Jisung, and you know that there has never been a time where you didn’t think you couldn’t go to them for anything. You were sure that if you killed someone, they’d get rid of the body to keep you out of jail. Or better yet, help you plan the murder so none of you were even considered suspects.

Jisung sat up and wrapped his arms around your torso to bring you in for a hug, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. “Baby, baby, no. That’s not it at all!” Your small sniffle had him squeezing you tighter, “I can’t explain it to you the way that he can, but just know we love you. And we want to be with you. You know how weird his mind works. He’ll talk to you about it soon.”

Nodding in agreement, taking Jisung’s words to heart and letting your mind drift away from the brunette and back to the ashy blonde beneath you.

Pulling away from your hiding spot, the aching between your legs was still painfully present, as was the straining in his pants. Pushing his hair from his face while your other hand thumbed at his mouth, your eyebrows raised, “I’m guessing you’re not big on cock stepping?”

Laughing, falling back and taking you with him, Jisung’s hands slipped just under the hem of your shirt to feel your warm skin. “Not particularly. I’d like to have kids someday.”

You smiled as he kissed you, a simple peck that multiplied down his neck and across his exposed collar bones. He liked that area, you noted in the way his hips kicked up into yours and the grip around your waist grew stronger. His hands slipped higher until you decided to discard the shirt entirely, your bra clad cleavage proudly in his face. It wasn’t anything special, but Jisung’s eyes blew wide as though your covered breasts were the key to his life’s questions.

“How can you go from crying about our boyfriend to having your tits in my face? Like a fucking angel,” he ogled your chest unabashedly.

“I’m not even naked yet,” you giggled, blushing.

“Oh god, you’re right.” Jisung dragged his hands down his face while letting his eyes roll back and dramatically whimpering.

Leaning down to kiss him, you shot back up just as quickly, “our boyfriend?”

“Your boyfriend, my boyfriend. The broody, moody guy that cooks for us sometimes and smells really good—”

“Han Jisung,” you interrupted him once more. “Ask me the question.”

“Y’know, I had a whole speech prepared.”

“Did you, now?”

“I was waiting for the right time to say it.”

“Mhm.”

“I was! I practiced it in the bathroom mirror and I gotta say, I’d definitely date me.” Nodding your head some more, you tapped your forefinger against his cheek. “Fine, fine. Cliff notes version,” your approving hum made Jisung clear his throat. “Please do me the honor of allowing me to be your one of two boyfriends.”

“Only because you said please.”

You were flipped onto your back in the split second it took to kiss him again, a squeal leaving your lips when your head hit the pillows. The room was filled with giggles from you and Jisung, hands roaming where they never had before but feeling as though they should’ve been the whole time. He never stayed away for too long, when he took his hands away to strip off his shirt, Jisung grinded his hips deeply into you, fabric on fabric good but not nearly enough.

You’d seen him shirtless more than enough times and each time you’d wanted to run your tongue through the lines of his abs. How badly you wanted to do that now as Jisung towered over you, looking down at your body, his to devour. His eyes were dark, tiniest of glimmers when he smiled deviously. Thumb pressing against your lips, Jisung tilted his head and pouted, “I’m gonna have so much fun with you, baby.

“If it gets too much for you, call yellow, we’ll slow down. Say red and we’ll stop completely. Okay?” You nodded, understanding what you were getting into with him. There have been enough vague yet pinpoint detailed stories shared, making you all the more excited to finally experience it for yourself.

He didn’t need to force his digit past your lips, you let him in without a fight, immediately sucking and teasing him with your tongue. Jisung tsked at your eagerness, “what happened to going slow, hm?”

Teasing. He was teasing you, using your words against you because Jisung knew that’s where his strength lied. He knew he could say the nastiest of things and get away with it, he did it before everything happened and now he could say it with all intents and purposes. Your hips rutted up from under him, but Jisung’s body weight kept you pinned to the mattress. The more you squirmed the bigger he smiled. His chest heaving up and down with heavy breaths was taunting you, your free hand reaching up to trace your nails down his skin from his pec down to the hem of his pants. Jisung shivered at the feeling and you had the honor of witnessing his cock twitching.

Plucking his thumb away, Jisung smeared your saliva over your lips and cheek until his fingers tangled in your hair again, this time yanking you somehow even further against the pillows. Your wince was followed by a menacing giggle, provoking him into gripping the roots tighter. “I don’t know why you’re laughing, babe.”

“You’re so cute when you try to be scary,” you pouted up at him mockingly, laugh turning into a moan when he tugged your head up and leaned over to be centimeters away from each other.

“Is being intimidating only Min’s thing? You’ve got a lot to learn.”

“Then teach me. How scared should I be of you, baby?”

Jisung huffed and threw you back down, climbing off your body entirely and stepping to the side of the bed. You laid on your side, looking up at him as his eyes raked up and down your figure, bra strap slipping off your shoulder and house shorts riding up to just barely show the outline of your aching cunt. Jisung’s mouth watered as you waited for his response, your face feigning innocence while your body was screaming for his touch.

His hand lingered over the button of his pants for a second before crouching to your eye level. “You want the beginner lesson?”

“Advanced.” Jisung pecked your lips once more before standing tall again, finally undoing his pants and relieving the pressure. His bulge fell over the zipper, covered only by his boxers and even those seemed too tight. You bit your lip, reaching out for him. Jisung slapped your hand away and scrunched his eyebrows together, “who gave you permission?”

“I did,” you answered immediately.

“You’re not the boss, baby. Not right now. I don’t have the patience to deal with your brattiness, you’ve kept me waiting for too long already.” He took his pants off and boxers along with it, length springing free in your face.

“Why’s that? You only let Min talk shit to you?”

“Nah, you’ll see. I’ve trained him real good, and I’m gonna do the same with you.”

Jisung manhandled you to hang your head over the edge of the bed, looking at him upside down. The way he threw you around like a ragdoll was painfully arousing, you knew he worked out, but not just how strong he was. “Oh, so you can use those muscles. Who knew?”

“You’re still making jokes? Aren’t you the one on your back?”

“Aren't you the one on a leash?”

“And who’s holding the lead? You?” Jisung scoffed, taking his cock in hand and slowly stroking. It wasn’t until you saw it in his grasp did you realize the extent of his size, you turned to get a better look but was shoved back into position instantly. “No, of course you aren’t. You’re too cock hungry to even control yourself. What ever made that pretty head think it could control me?”

Holding you down by the shoulder, your mouth opened and tongue fell out as Jisung gave a few soft slaps to your cheek with his dick. As degrading as it was, nothing was more humiliating than the fact that you couldn’t stop your legs from pressing together and your hands white knuckling the sheets to stop from shoving them down your pants. He chuckled and his own jaw went slack. “See? Just a slutty little puppy. Wanting to suck on anything and everything.”

You whined a little when he forced your mouth closed with his free hand and held you steady, smearing his precum covered tip around your lips. “Aw, you sound so cute. Cute pup.”

Hips kicking higher, you let them fall back down roughly and drawing his attention elsewhere. Jisung let your jaw go to shove his cock down your throat unexpectedly, making you gag and tears immediately flood. He didn’t give you room to even think, his balls pressing against your nose and leaning over your body to bury himself deeper. Just when you thought you were going to tap out, Jisung pulled away and had you gasping for air.

“Where’d you learn to take cock so well, pup? Mind if I help myself?” He didn’t wait for you to reply, propping himself up on either side of your torso and blindly entering your mouth again. Your throat constricted around it for a few seconds, letting himself succumb to the warm, wet walls. The muffled whimper made goosebumps rise along Jisung’s skin and pull out to the tip. You swirl your tongue around and around, suckling him like a lollipop and attempting to keep your hands to yourself. As if not touching yourself was torture enough, he took a handful of the front of your shorts and pulled, center seam rubbing against your clit easily with how wet you were.

“Didn’t think you’d give in so easily,” he laughed darkly and practically holding your lower half in the air by your shorts, frantically searching for friction. “You were even easier to tame than Min, just had to tell him how cute he was and he was a goner. You? All you want is a good cock to pacify you, hm? Who woulda thought.”

The mumble of your attempted response was intelligible until he pulled away to let his dick fall from your mouth, “what was that, pup?”

“Need your cock,” you breathed heavily, finally able to now that your mouth was free.

“Yeah you fucking do,” Jisung dropped your lower half and stuck his hand down the front of your shorts, fingers swiping at youre core and spreading your arousal beneath the fabric. “Gonna make you crave me all the fucking time.”

Finally being touched had your jaw hanging open again, but he didn’t seem to notice, entranced by the lewd sound of your wetness. He wasn’t rough but not gentle either, massaging the perfect amount of pressure to the bundle of nerves and made you rub your hips into his palm. You’ve been worked up for days, desperate to come, desperate enough to grab his hand and still him, using him to your pleasure without care. Jisung let you for the time being, stuck in a trance watching the way you moved. How small your hand looked wrapped around his wrist, it’d look even prettier around his–

“Gonna cum, fuck, fuck, fu–”

Jisung stole himself away just before you could finish, killing the impending high you so deeply wanted.

“No, no! Fucking hell, why?!” You whined loudly, legs spasming from denial.

He didn't answer you, not losing any adrenaline and still able to powerfully maneuver you away from the edge of the bed, strip away your remaining clothing, and have you sitting on top of him again in a moment’s notice. Jisung sat with his back against the headboard, though low enough that your head leveled higher than his, staring down at his sweaty, smug face.

“Fucking pillow princess,” you murmured out of spite, not thinking anything of it as you reached for his cock.

Grabbing your hand tightly, “the fuck did you call me, pup?” Jisung tilted his head back and dominatingly peered at you through sharp eyes, clearly not playing.

“Pillow. Princess.” You struggled to get out of his grasp. The denied orgasm had pissed you off, initially ready to let him have his way until he stripped you of the one thing he knew you’d been pining for. This was retaliation.

The light slap across your cheek sent you into a monetary daze, eyes going wide at the sting. Jisung was already looking at you when you peered down at him, clear in the way his chin tipped up at you that you had lost that battle.

“Don’t bite the hand that fucking feeds you, pup. Be my good fucking girl and ride.” Not like you were beaten into submission, moreso talked into it, you whimpered and lip involuntarily pouted. Jisung’s handle on your wrist loosened and allowed you to take his dick in hand, pressing the tip to your entrance. As a last desperate act, you circled it around the rim, gathering your essence and teasing the both of you. “Last warning,” he threatened, not bothering to look at you as the sight of him about to enter you was distracting enough.

When you sank down, slow, inch by inch, you melted into one another as you came to the hilt, shivering once your clit made contact with the warm skin of his pelvis. Jisung’s shoulders relaxed, his hands rubbing soothingly over the tops of your thighs and up your love handles. The two of you stayed like this for a while, his domineering act washing away a little as your lip continued to tremble. He smirked, cupping your cheek, “awe, too much for you, pup?”

His counterfeit sympathy was obvious, but you’d take what you could get, nuzzling into his palm and nails digging into his abdomen. Jisung nodded along with you, jutting his lower lip out while also reading your face for any sign of discomfort. He knew you had limits, just testing where they were knowing fully well you could stop if you wanted.

Though, you shook your head, no, brows scrunching together and eyes blinking away pleasureful tears. You were already breathless and overwhelmed, leaving red crescents into Jisung’s skin wherever you laid your claws, but he seemed to like the pain. He pushed your hands deeper into him and looked straight into your eyes, “ride.”

Experimentally, you leaned forward and lifted your hips, sinking back down almost uncoordinatedly with how excited and overwhelmed you were. Jisung could feel your thighs shaking as you sat down fully on him, he placed his hands on your love handles and gave an encouraging squeeze.

Raising again, you slammed down harder, repeating the action until you found a steady rhythm. Filling and emptying, again and again, you were dizzy with how good it felt. Heat flushed your body as you lost yourself in working against him, genuinely paying no mind to the man blushing beneath you. Jisung gazed at you in awe, adoration as you enjoyed yourself. He didn’t even feel the need to help you anymore, putting his hands behind his head and took in the sight of your tits bouncing with each motion. The longer you kept your pace, your knees and thighs burned and muscles began to grow tight. You changed the position slightly, propping one leg up and using that leverage to continue. But even that became tiresome, finding yourself growing much too emotionally saturated to bring yourself to orgasm.

Jisung could feel this, your frustration, and he felt somewhat bad that he hadn’t given you the first high. Only somewhat. Seeing you work yourself into a whining, moaning mess made him smile to himself and sit up to press his chest to yours. Jisung peppered kisses along your collarbone and softly worked you down to a slow grind. Your heart rate fell steady as he finally indulged you with a sweet kiss, stark comparison to the mean words he spat earlier.

He wouldn’t be Jisung if he didn’t leave you wanting more, pulling away prematurely and leaning back again, this time taking you with him. He guided your hands to hold onto the top of the head board and smother his face in your breasts. Marks he bit into your skin felt more pleasurable than painful, you wondered if the slap before truly hurt or if you were just shocked.

Your grip on the headboard tightened as his hands lifted you a bit more by your bottom and spread your knees wider. Jisung jutted up slightly, testing his and your patience. He did this again, shallowly thrusting just the tip into you, making you moan, “Ji, baby, pleeease.”

“Am I still a pillow princess, pup? You couldn’t even get yourself to cum, now I have to do all the work.” Even if it was mean, his tone of voice like mothering a toddler that was learning to eat on their own, gentle teaching.

“Hnghhh, nooo,” you mewled.

“No, what, pup?” Jisung continued his depthless ruts, egging you on.

“Can’t– need to– wanna cum–”

He could hear how fragile you were now, overall amazed by you to the point he wanted to ditch the entire facade and give you everything you wanted. Though, he needed to see it through till the end, more like to prove to himself that he could do it in the first place.

Adjusting his hands to grip your love handles firmly, Jisung kept you in place to thrust up into you. You were caught off guard at how quickly he gave into your needy pleas, knees almost giving out below you. But Jisung was quick to catch your weight, every thrust up as you fell down kept you bouncing once again, tits jiggling in his face delightfully smothering. The minor slap he left to your ass made your cunt clench and cry out louder, then repeating just to get a reaction. Jisung wasn’t sure what he loved more, how naturally your body responded to him or how you couldn’t seem to get enough.

Your hands moved from the head board to his shoulder, wrapping around his neck to brace yourself on and to feel as close as possible. Here, you were coming undone quicker than expected, having him doing the work now let you fall victim to the euphoria of his cock nudging the sweet spot within you, stars behind your eyelids. Ripples of pain from Jisung teething at your skin meshed with the pleasure, you didn’t realize how loud you had gotten until you couldn’t hear him nor the skin on skin anymore.

Body shaking, coveting for the high and well on its way, you snuck your hands into his hair and hardly needed to tug to have Jisung’s head falling back and looking up at you through his lashes. His thrusts kept a steadier rhythm, digging his heels into the mattress and coercing you into meeting his lips in a jolty, electrifying kiss. Just as your lips met, the tip of his cock hit your soft spot right on target, shoving you face first into the feeling you’d been dying for. Your body tensed and clenched around him, fucking you through your orgasm until it eventually subsided.

A bit longer you let Jisung use your body to chase his own, he deserved it for putting up with your sharp tongue. Even that didn’t take very long, Jisung had been fending off his orgasm for over twenty minutes, from even before you took your shirt off.

And when the white light blinded him, Jisung let out a string of curses and your name, hints of whiney whimpers in between. He was exceptionally quick to recover, immediately noting your state of mind and body and helped you to lay down.

You winced as he pulled out and used his shirt to catch any spillage, holding it to your cunt before he airlifted you to the bathroom. You had forgotten whose house you were in, that’s how hazy you’d gotten.

Jisung let you finish your business, kissing your forehead and wiping your body down with a wet rag once you’d called his name to help you back to bed.

The bed in question was beyond messy, fitted sheet undone and comforter on the floor. Did Jisung always sleep with just one pillow? No, there were the other three strewn about the perimeter of the bed, one somehow ending up at the foot of it. Jisung, seeing where your head was at as he set you down to lay back, said, “got a bit carried away, didn’t we?”

“We?” You joked, voice horse. He gave you a wink and ran off to grab some water before retreating into the space next to you.

Neither of you bothered to get dressed, laying naked in one another’s arms as you decompressed together. “You’re not as rough as I thought you’d be,” you admitted, rolling over and throwing a leg over his torso.

“I’m not? Noted,” Jisung raised an eyebrow and kissed your forehead again. “If we’re giving feedback, I’d say Minho is gonna have a hell of a time with you. He’ll like the whole brat thing.”

“Did you?” You look up at him, genuinely just curious.

“That’s not even a question,” he waved it off, scoffing because how could you not tell that he was internally cursing himself for not confessing to you sooner if that was the outcome? “Everything I could ask for and more.”

“I liked the nickname a lot. No one’s ever called me that before.”

“Yeah? It suits you. Cute puppy,” Jisung wrapped his arms around your shoulders and squeezed tightly, knocking the air out of you. “But I’m curious,” his voice dropped just a little. “You think of us? Me and Minho?”

“Well— yeah. And honestly, I thought the roles would’ve been reversed.”

“You think he’s a top? Oh, sweet, sweet, baby.” Jisung pecked loving kisses to the top of your head, “he’s half a power bottom at best.”

“To be fair, I didn’t even know he liked girls,” the whisper in your tone softened along with Jisung’s touch, moving to gently run his fingers through your hair.

“He’s the real pillow princess, baby. You might have to knock some sense into him.”

Smirking up at him, “you’ll let me?”

“I’ll let you do anything you want to him.”

“Mmm, you wouldn’t mind if I mark him up?” Jisung’s eyebrow raised, intrigued, “let me cover him in pretty bruises?”

“I’d kill to see that, pup.” You were being smothered in kisses once more, closing your eyes and falling victim to his sweet touches. “But tell me what else you think about. You’ve piqued my interest.”

“You want me to tell you that I fantasized about my best friends making out?”

“Duh. Me, though, tell me what you think about me.” You could just tell he was wiggling his eyebrows with a sly smirk.

You groaned, “in the morning. Tired.”

Jisung took hold of your shoulders and shook you side to side, whining, “nooo, puppy, pleeease? Just a few compliments then I’ll leave you alone, I swear.”

Protests went in one ear and out the other with him, not letting you lay still until you gave him what he wanted. “You’re so lucky I like you, fucking menace.”

“Just like?” His mouth fell open into an “O.”

“Love. I love you.”

It was a lot easier to say when you had your face buried in his chest, not having to look him in the eye as you did. You knew that if you had been looking at him, you might’ve broken into tears, which would’ve made Jisung cry, too. That still didn’t stop your face from heating up and being hit with another rush of emotions.

“How much?” He teased, thankfully not seeing your eyes glaze over.

“I love you a lot. Like, a monumental amount and… Min, too. It’s scary,” your voice falling short and nuzzling your cheek into his skin.

Jisung let you take your time to slow your breathing again before he spoke, “I’d kiss you but I’m scared if I look at you, I’ll cry like a baby.”

“I know you will. Just hold me?”

He did, tighter, if that was even possible. “I will, just like this. Except when Min’s here, he’ll be right behind you to keep your cute booty warm when you fall asleep. You won’t have any space to move ‘cus neither of can stand to not be touching in some way. You’ll probably overheat and be on the verge of death by heatstroke, we give off heat like fucking furnaces. I’ll have a little snack on my side table in case you get hungry in the middle of the night, or you can roll over and get a few cuddles from Min, I won’t be upset, cross my heart.” You giggled at that. “We can move into his place since we all know he has the biggest bedroom, or we can look for another place to fit all three of us and give you a nice, big closet. Every night, we can take turns cooking and let Min throw a fit when we both burn the food so he ends up cooking for us anyways…”

Your chest was filled, warm and sickeningly sweet with the words Jisung continued to whisper in your ear until you eventually fell asleep. The nauseating feeling of waiting, wondering was nowhere near now that there was a clear landing for where you stood in their established relationship, at least, for now.

-

A/N: YAYAYAYAY phase one!!! idea: 10/10, execution: 4/10...I've been having a hard time connecting ideas lately and I think it's just stress but I'm hoping this lived up to expectations ://

feedback!! feed me!! I love love love hearing what you all think! it really does help me improve as a writer, even if it's constructive!

reminder to drink water, eat three meals a day, give your loved ones a hug. < 3

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @aliferousminho @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @angelica-erin-caelius @dazzlingligth @lvrmin @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten

story tags: @bookwyrm28 @ladylexis @blankdyean @sujurunaway @mal-lunar-28 @pussy-drunk @bangchxnnie @lyramundana @bumblebee-zone @bloopreads @propertyoftoru @ana-stasssiaaa @iheartjozzy @kurxxmi

#stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #stray kids han #stray kids lee know #poly!minsung #han jisung #jisung smut #jisung fluff #jisung x reader #jisung x yn #jisung x you #lee know smut #lee know fluff #lee minho smut #lee minho fluff #minho x reader #minho x yn #minho x you #poly!minsung x reader #poly!minsung smut #poly!minsung x yn #poly!minsung x you #minsung #poly!skz #poly!skz x reader #poly!skz x yn #poly!skz x you #skz smut

[jungkookschin]

older: sneak peek one

think i need someone older, just a little bit colder, take the weight off your shoulders

READ IT HERE

synopsis: you are obsessed with jungkook, your parents' friends' son, and he adores you. but does jungkook adore you because you've been acquainted since childhood? or because he sees you as a woman? he remembers you obnoxiously doing cartwheels in his room as a kid, but he doesn't remember you becoming so alluring.

word count: 300 (?), actual fic is 17k

pairing: older!jk x afab reader

genre: age gap au (seven years), childhood acquaintance au, fluff, comedy, angsty, outta pocket, alludes to sexual innuendoes

author's note: this is a scene from like the middle of the fic!! if u want to be tagged in the actual fic, lmk! also yn is a snorlax girl and i love that for her

Your arms linked with Yunjin, you skip around from one club to the next, dancing and partying your little hearts out. When the night comes to a close you prance to the local ramen shop by campus.

From a distance, you can already make out Jungkook's figure. He’s always so animated when he’s with his friends, dramatically gesturing and hip thrusting in the air while his friends laugh at his immature jokes. He’s got a cigarette between his pointer and middle finger, taking slow puffs, allowing the smoke to fill his lungs before he tilts his head to exhale a long plume of smoke into the atmosphere. 

That’s right. Jungkook smokes occasionally but never lets you do it. What a hypocrite. 

His eyes drift off for a second until they land on you, and his lips curl up in your presence. 

“Well look, if it isn’t my favorite girl,” he teases, letting out low laughter at the way you crimson when all his friends’ heads whip in your direction. 

You narrow your eyes at him, giving him a dirty look that Jungkook coos at. Even when you were trying to intimidate him you were akin to a cute Snorlax, so adorable, eyebrows pinched and lips pouted- how could he feel anything but adoration at that? 

“Aw angel,” he jests, throwing your words right back at you, “Don’t ignore me, ‘m sorry for teasing you,” he catches you as you walk past him, pulling you towards his chest before resting his chin on top of your head. 

He casually smiles at Yunjin. “How’s my angel been doing? Has she been behaving?”

Yunjin’s jaw drops at the bold statement and you attempt to wrestle out of his firm embrace to berate him. 

“Just kidding. It’s getting late, though. Do you girls need a ride home?” he asks, finally letting you go just for you to stumble out of his grip and almost land on your face, but luckily Jungkook pulls your shoulders back without even looking in your direction. 

“Jungkook, it’s literally 10,” you deadpan. 

“Oh c’mon, I don’t want you girls to get kidnapped or something,” he snarkily responds. 

“How about you give us some money instead?” Yunjin jests, clearly joking, but Jungkook takes it so, so seriously. He raises a brow at both of you. “How much do you need?”

“Wait no- I was kidding,” Yunjin quickly clarifies, her ears becoming slightly red, “you don’t have to..”

Jungkook looks from you to her, then back at you before whipping out his phone, taking another puff of his cigarette before blowing the smoke upwards, careful so you don’t inhale any smoke.

Ping!

Your eyebrows pinch in confusion when you get a notification, and you unzip your mini purse to grab your phone, allowing the screenlight to illuminate your pretty features.  

JEON JUNGKOOK HAS TRANSFERRED YOU 500 DOLLARS VIA HYBETRANSFER.

“250 each, alright?” Jungkook laughs, taking another puff of his cigarette before he saunters off, his friends pushing him around and teasing him. 

“Ayo, when did Jeon turn into a sugar daddy?”

You and Yunjin are left dumbfounded, even more so when Jungkook turns around and makes kissy lips at you. 

You fall to your knees.

#jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #bts jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook series #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic

[the-s1lly-corner]

How they react to you telling them you're pregnant

Obligatory reader is afab but like most of my posts they're gn/gendered pronouns aren't used

Slenderman;

Cue the confusion

Pregnant?

Surprised more than anything, he didnt think that he could get you pregnant considering you're both different species

And also he didnt think he was fertile; at least not in the normal sexual reproduction way

Kinda just

Accepts it

Now do I think he would be a good dad?

Maybe? He wouldn't be horrible or absent, but some human things are still foreign to him, including raising a child.. so hes probably going to need a decent amount of guidance

I feel like he'd also be a helicopter parent? He already watches you like a hawk, he'd probably start doing the same with his kid as they get older

"Hey (kid name) who's that tall white boy following you??" "Oh that's my dad"/j

Becomes more protective of you during the pregnancy and the weeks after

Takes it in stride tbh

Splendorman;

Pause

Before you start to worry he scoops you up

Also thought it wasnt possible, but is hyped when he finds out the news

He WILL pamper you... may also dip into overbearing territory, though

He just doesnt want you or the baby to get hurt

He says goodnight to the bump later on in the pregnancy tbh

Oh you know hes gonna be decorating their room and giving them loads of toys

Would be a good father but may dip into unhealthy habits

This dude struggles with toxic positivity imo, so that's definitely something that's gonna need to be addressed

Laughing Jack;

Okay obviously ALL of them are probably going to be sat down and told the news, but Jack is gonna need the most talking to given that he probably doesn't grasp the gravity of it

He KNOWS what pregnancy is, he KNOWS what a baby is; but he doesn't know the intricacies of pregnancy if that makes sense

Like he doesnt know about the soreness, or cravings, or how fragile those tiny human beings actually are. Dude already struggles with being gentle with adults

So it's going to require a long and in depth talk about everything that's going to happen if you guys decide to keep the kid

Reaction wise, he takes it seriously. Kind of uncanny compared to his usual silly demeanor

Again, due to him being a lil dumb hes almost under reacting

As a parent I think...

Okay he'd probably kinda suck

He would love the kid but he would be so so so irresponsible I'm so sorry

Gives the kid candy for meals (bro cant cook)

Get that man into some parenting classes PLEASE

Eyeless Jack;

Another "I'm surprised because I deadass thought I was infertile" one, given my whole lore/Hc for EJ

The most worried out of them all

"What if they're like me and are cursed? What if they hate me? What if they grow to hate me? What if-"

He baby proofs his cabin... before insisting that the baby stays at your place primarily (if you haven't moved in with him) because he's scared of his whole... eating people thing

Please give him loads and loads of reassurance, hes gonna need it

He'll work hard to be the best father he can be, though!

He takes the kid out for walks in the woods, teaches them different plants and bugs and tells them which are dangerous

"Oh I don't want to hold them, what if I hurt em?" *falls asleep while holding his baby after reading them a story*

Masky;

You gotta baby proof him and the house im sorry, hes feral

Another "you're gonna have to sit him down and lay down the rules" type deal

Hes already mellowed out around you but he needs to mellow out a touch more for an infant

Hard to gauge his reaction but he seems.... excited? Hard to tell when hes sitting still and wearing a mask

When the baby comes he, like slenderman, also watches them like a hawk

You will walk in on him sitting over their crib at 3am/hj

Surprisingly gentle when it comes to handling the kid, just casually walks around with them and shit

Great for looking after the kid during the night while you rest

Hoodie;

V similar to Masky but he's already naturally calm

Putting this here now before I forget but he would take his mask off to make faces at the baby to try to make them laugh

Mf doesn't take his mask off for you though ☝️🙄/hj

Surprisingly good at calming down screaming infants for some reason

Similar reaction as Masky; hard to read but way easy to guess its positive since he lightly boinks where his mouth would be under his mask to your cheek while papping your stomach

Hes a lil silly

But hes got the spirit

Good dad, me thinks

#creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #slenderman x reader #splendorman x reader #laughing jack x reader #eyeless jack x reader #masky x reader #hoodie x reader

[roturo]

SUPER SHY megumi fushiguru x f!reader

summary: way too scared to make a move on your brother's best-friend.

warnings: nsfw, aged up characters, reader is yuuji's little sister, reader is shy, semi-public, sexual tension, bad pick up lines lol, not beta read, fluff?, not finished.

A/N: This was a draft I wanted to post before I went for a break, I didn't have the motivation to finish it, mostly because of how insecure I am with my writings rn, but I know myself, and I know I wouldn't post this one after my break and i'm sorry if I didn't finish it but here it is.

It's your second semester in jujutsu tech, and you can't still seem to stop looking for Fushiguro Megumi.

He's in fourth semester, class president, and quite popular in your classroom. Mostly because of how handsome he is and every girl is thirsting over him.

You never understood the hype until you saw him for the first time at your brother's house. It's been, what? nearly a year? They were doing a school project, more like he's doing a school project while Yuuji stayed playing videogames in the living room. He was wearing an oversized black crewneck with some jeans. Simple choose of clothes, but why does he look extremely handsome in them?

¨Uh... hi.¨ You entered the living room with no clue Yuuji would be here with his friend, at least he could notify you about having friends over so you could change into more appropriate clothes. But I guess some tiny shorts and your brother's T-shirt wasn't bad.

¨Oh! This is Megumi¨ He introduced you by saying your name and for him to know both of you are step-family.

Since then you could never take your eyes out of him.

You told your friends about him and how you could never approach him, even when he's in your house. Something about his aura made you really shy to approach him or even come out of your room to see him. And when Yuuji introduced you to Nobara so you could be 'shopping besties' things could'nt get worse.

Nobara is a great person, she's not the problem. It's her friend group. It's Megumi Fushiguro and his hot damn persona.

You couldn't even keep eye contact with someone else in the group when you go out, because you were fucking scared for him to see your loving eyes that you could swear they would leave those hearts from your eyes like cartoon's.

Nobara knew about your crush for Fushiguro, since she's like your older sister. And to say she didn't accidentally slipped your little crush for him on the cafeteria with Fushiguro and Yuuji present.... would be the dead of you.

At first, Yuuji wouldn't believe it, but then he would remember all those days at his house, going out, your little glances towards Megumi, and 'casual' questions about him... brought him back to reality.

Second, he went through 3 stages. Anger, emotion, and... confussion.

He was furious for the fact you had a crush on his best-friend, which later turned into a fantasize like the kissing booth, one of the movies Gojo-senseid made him watch. But... that brought him into what would he do? Is Megumi good for you? Would he protect you like he does? Will you be happy?

He had mixed opinions about this. Most of them were good, but two or three were bad. Maybe his anxiety?

And Megumi? well, he was confused.

He knows he has plenty of girls falling for him, but he never expected you to be one of them. He thought you were pretty, really, really pretty... but he could never do that to his best friend, could he?

He had kinda of a crush for you too, but never thought of going this far.

Days passed and the topic stayed untouched, not until Yuuji asked Megumi to talk alone.

And it was the most uncomfortable moment Megumi could go through.

¨I just wanted to tell you both of you have my blessing if you ever become something, a really nice couple, both of you are really smart and have a difficult character, not that matters. But I also wish you the best if you ever get married, OHHH how cute, could I be flower guy? Okay, that's a topic for the future, and oh! also- I ALSO give you my blessing to the both of you, mostly to the kid-¨

¨Yuuji, what?-¨

¨Both of you would have really pretty and powerful children, hoping they have more of my sister appearance rather than yours... but don't forget children are for later, LATEEER.¨

Megumi would never tell you about his feelings for you, unless you make the first move, but he's been interested in you since your transfer to Jujutsu Tech in Tokyo. You were just the cutest thing, always blushing and following behind him and Yuuji until you got into your house. You were never outspoken, but you would never let anyone walk all over you, the few times he's seen you fight seared into the back of his mind. The look of unshaken determination along with the way your body moved with your cursed technique had the front of his pants tighten a bit. He wants you, even to this day, but doesn't know exactly how to take that step forward.

You pause your eating for just a second to catch Megumi's eyes staring you down. Did you do something wrong? Did he no like the way you eat? There was little you could do that change that, honestly. As you feel your face brighten and your eyes widen, you feel your confidence swell. You're gonna change him off-guard.

This was it. You were going to say it despite all your classmates being in close proximity. You were never going to live this down.

"Y-You've been staring at me all night, Fushiguro-san... Rather than undressing me with your eyes, did you want to... take this somewhere private and take it off... for real? Don't... don't act like I don't know Nobara told you about my crush... Yuuji can't keep his mouth closed.¨

You're sure he doesn't even know your name and knows you as 'Yuuji's little sister'

But you were really nervous while thinking how to finally make him yours. So shyness can go for a little bit, and fuck it.

You can feel three sets of eyes burning into your stuttering and blushing head, your eyes glaring holes in the half-eaten rice bowl in front of you. You can't believe that came out of your mouth, although it definitely took you a while to get it out. You were way too embarrassed to even look him in the eye.

Megumi couldn't believe the sweet, innocent and shy image he had about you had actually said that, to him of all people. He could do nothing but stare at you in pure shock for a few seconds before returning to his neutral nonchalant state, watching you slowly simmer in your seat. Well, at least he didn't have to take the first step. He was definitely going to take you up on that tempting offer, but he couldn't say that in front of everyone. He knows they wouldn't leave this alone, pestering the two of you until you spill the details.

Feeling the awkward silence weighing down on your shoulders, you shoot out of your chair and turn to head to the restroom, where you will hang your head in shame for the rest of the night. "I, um... I-I'll be back." You make a beeline for the women's restroom, tucked away in a corner behind a few plants. You were definitely going to puke this time.

-

Back at the table, Megumi continues to eat his food, the only change since your departure being him eating a bit slower, trying to process the situation. You justly openly invited him to engage in sexual intercourse with you in front of your confused friend AND brother. Whether it be a joke or something more serious, he needed to hear it again clearly from your mouth for confirmation. The question is, how is he going to do that with you stuck in that restroom?

His entire train of thought crashes when he feels something cold drip on his shirt, his dark eyes darting down to see a wet noodle slowly sliding from its spot on his shirt to land on his dark jeans, another stain forming on the denim material.

"So, it DID have an effect on him." Nobara glares at Yuuji, who stares wide-eyed at his best friend before feeling his lips stretch into a grin. "[Y/N] finally shot her shot! Oh, my little sister grows up so fast!" The light-haired man hums happily before digging into the rest of his meal.

Megumi places the dirty noodle on a napkin before standing and turning to the restroom. "I'm going to check on her," he mumbles to his friends before walking briskly to the restrooms, missing the knowing looks between the patrons at the table. 

"Five bucks if they walk out together." "Deal....Wait, we're betting about my sister here..."

Megumi stands between the two doors, hesitant about entering the women's restroom. He didn't need unnecessary attention or worse, getting everyone kicked out and ruining their meal. However, the way you tried to keep eye contact with him as you stutter your way through your flirting had him listening more to his groin rather than his brain. With a quick prayer that he wouldn't get caught redhanded, he slips into the nearly empty women's restroom, seeing a pair of small feet at the very last stall.

You continue to sulk against the wall as you hear someone enter the restroom. You sigh softly, arms uncrossing to press your hands against your still blushing face. You could never face him again. You had one chance and you absolutely blew it. You were sure he was going to either ignore what you said or completely reject you on the spot. Your heart wouldn't be able to handle the response, so you decide to sneak out through the restroom window and text everyone a sincere apology.

You reach up to unlock the stall's door, pushing yourself to stand and slipping out to be face-to-face with Megumi Fushiguro, yelping as his hands press onto your shoulders and push you back into the stall. You can only look at him in shock as he locks you both in, the awkward silence from earlier crushing your lungs. Oh, no. He was going to reject you right now, wasn't he?

"Fushiguro-san, I'm really sorry about--"

"Did you mean what you said?"

Every word dies on your tongue as he closes the gap between you two and cups your face in his large hands, your body melding against his own. Holy shit, you were NOT expecting this development. A few dying wheezes leave your mouth before you realize your speaker box isn't going to work any time soon. You rapidly nod your head, feeling his grip tighten just a little.

"Good, because here's my answer."

You always wondered what Megumi's lips would taste like back when you saw him for the first. A hint of spearmint and cinnamon, honey and strawberries, hell you even thought he'd taste like cookies and cream ice cream. You can't focus on the flavor when the feeling is the only thing you're thinking about, his lips moving smoothly over your lips. Your eyes widen before you hastily respond, burying your hands in the front of his shirt.

This was blowing your mind right now. You couldn't believe he was here in the women's restroom with his lips moving sensually against your own and his hands reaching down to grip your hips, but frankly, you didn't care too much. You've dreamed of this moment for years and you were not going to let it slip easily. Throwing your arms over his shoulders, you lose yourself to him, trying to keep in all your little noises the longer you were connected.

The taller sorcerer pushes a knee between your legs, letting his hips slide between and his hands lift you up by your bottom, getting a good squeeze. You were as soft as he thought and dreamt of. You were going to be the death of him for sure. One hand slithers up your shirt to brush his fingers against your ribcage, feeling lace brush against his fingertips. He groans softly against your mouth, pushing his tongue inside to assert dominance and letting his second hand join the first when you lock your legs against his waist. No turning back now.

You gasp then groan as his hands grasp the tops of your bra and yank them downward, latching onto your fleshy mounds while his hips grind slowly against yours, feeling your underwear dampen from the stimulating touches and breath-stealing kisses. Speaking of breathing, you part lips from him only to release a filthy moan as he pinches and pulls at your hardening nipples from underneath your shirt. Looking up at him with glassy eyes and drool dribbling down the edges of your lips, you could feel his erection grow and press against you harder. You wanted him, right here and right now.

"F-Fushi--"

¨Megumi, it's Megumi for you.¨

¨M..megumi-¨

The sound of the door swinging open makes you two freeze, eyes wide as whoever enters the restroom walks to the sink and stays put for a while, assuming she was fixing her hair or makeup. You grind your hips down against the tense man, feeling his grip on your breasts tighten slightly before he slams his lips against yours again to silence you. The two of you stay fixed in that position for three minutes before the woman decides her appearance is worthy and leaves the room, gasping for air as you pull away from each other.

"We... we should leave, huh?" You chuckle nervously as he slowly sets you up, straightening his clothes before clearing his throat. You also adjust your clothes and run your hands through your hair, trying your best to steady the blood flow in your face. You were sure you were tinted even redder than before.

"We're going to my place. I hope you're ready." With those few words, he almost zooms out of the restroom, leaving you surprised yet turned on. He didn't reject you or ignore you. In fact, he reciprocated your feelings, about to show you a good time back at his place. You get your mind back together before finally leaving the restroom, walking back to your table to see Megumi handing Yuuji a few paper bills.

#megumi fushiguro smut #jujutsu megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi imagine #megumi smut #megumi x reader #jjk megumi #megumi fluff

[radkindoffeminist]

I am 13 years old. I have boobs bigger than any other girl in my year and I stopped growing in height a year ago. People tell me I could pass for 16-18 easily. Girls ask what size I am. Boys mock me for having tits. Men hit on me. Most people think I am a lot older than I actually am. I am confused by everything.

I am 14 years old. I begin turning to online chatrooms and camsex for attention because I am so lonely and horny. I don't speak about them to anyone in my life because it's never spoken about. Women and girls don't have sexual desires. I start speaking to a guy, Glenn. He's 28-years-old and knows how old I am. I speak to him for years and he's the first guy I camsex with. He speaks to me like a person and not a child and I love him for that. One day, he doesn't respond and I never hear from him again, but spend weeks hoping that I will see another message from him (he had a habit of disappearing for weeks only to come back). He doesn't message again. My heart is broken.

I am 15 years old, just about. I continue using these online chatrooms because I am such a lonely teenager and need some sort of attention and this is the only place I can find it. I meet a guy, David, who I ask to be my boyfriend. He was 21 years old. We speak every day for a month and have camsex all the time. He is sweet and mature and has his own car! Our plans to meet fall through and then he suddenly stops talking to me one day. Two months after that day, he messaged me again. His grandmother died so he couldn't deal with life. I feel empathic towards him but feel forced to take him back. When I realise that he won't take responsibility for the fact that cutting me off for months hurt me because he says that he was hurt, I break up with him. He insists on staying friends. I agree because I still feel bad for him.

I am 16 years old. I start college and I'm still speaking to my ex David, but then I see how possessive he is of me. He wants to meet up with me but will only do so on his terms, when he can kiss me all he wants because he still sees me as his. I try and speak to him about the guys at my college and he gets jealous. I stop speaking to him. I begin to realise just how toxic him and these chatrooms and camsex all is. I make a vow to stop it for my mental health, but it is hard to stop something when what draws you there is the fact that you're incredibly lonely.

I am 17 years old. It has been three years since I first opened a chatroom and had camsex and I actively try to stop. I have spoken to dozens, if not hundreds, of men by this point and they are all the same: they want to use me and will put on a little play to ensure they can get me. Some are just nice and upfront with me, using me and then never speaking to me again. Some put on a show, pretending that they like/love me so I become wrapped around their finger. Some are kind and caring, but then threaten me when they realise that they won't get what they want. Too many of them are angry when they hear the word no and if they aren't straight up agressive towards me, then they're making me feel guilty for having boundaries or trying to convince me to break them because they're different from the rest. I've met dozens of men who've claimed that they're different from the rest but they never are. They're all the same. After so many times of promising myself to stop, what really gets me to stop was someone threatening to share naked photos of me he'd taken while we were on a video call on my Facebook. I block him. I realise just how manipulated I'd been over the years and come to accept the fact that most, if not all, of these men had taken photos without my permission and some probably still have them saved somewhere.

I am 18 years old. I have managed to mostly stay away from the chatrooms and camsex, but I ended up speaking to one more guy. He seems so lovely and kind and caring. He is 26-years-old. We live far apart but he promises that he'll come and visit me sometime, even though he dodges the question every time I ask and never seems to be around or available when I'm available. We talked on and off for months. One day I tell him that I've decided to completely give up on camsex. It is too toxic and traumatic for me. I never want to do it again. He stops talking to me. I slowly realised how he was just nice to me because he wanted camsex and nudes. He never loved me but I loved him.

I am 19 years old. I start dating my ex-boyfriend. He is a genuinely wonderful and kind person. He does not disrespect my boundaries regarding camsex and nudes. He used to do a similar thing and understands how toxic and horrible these spaces can be. He's a good person, other than the fact that he mocks my interest in feminism and occasionally breaks some boundaries. We stay together for a year before we end up drifting apart.

I am 20 years old. I have severe depression. For the first time in my life, while I am incredibly drunk, I talk about my ex David and all the camsex stuff. I feel a weight lift off my shoulders knowing that other people agree that I was groomed. I had convinced myself for years that I was not groomed because I asked him out so everything that happened to me was my own fault. But I realise that while I was a stupid teenager, it still wasn't right for men to take advantage of me. I learn to accept that camsex and nudes will always be a point of trauma for me and something that I can never do again. I am so proud of myself for not doing it for two years.

I am 21 years old. I am the same age my ex David was when I dated him. I look at the freshers at my university and I couldn't imagine dating someone who is just out of college (high school). I had realised some years earlier that my relationship was toxic and pedophilic but it took me getting to the same age he was to realise just how horrible it was. I wish I could warn so many other women but I know I have to live with it because I was that teenage girl who dated that older man so I know that every single one thinks that they're the exception to the rule. They think that there's no way they're getting groomed by and older man because they really are that mature. I wish I could tell them but they'll just run into their groomer's arms even more.

I am 22 years old. I am off anti-depressants and glad that my sex drive is back. I decide that now, post COVID, would be the perfect time to have some fun. I sleep around, but the sex is so unsatifying for me most of the time. The women are good but the men spent five minutes inside of me and are then done. Half of them don't do anything to make me cum and never ask if I have. One of them complains that I take ages to cum after spending two minutes rubbing me off (badly). After feeling guilty for cancelling something last minute, I end up hooking up with someone who I shouldn't have. I cannot remember the last time I felt so repulsed by someone's touch. I stop hooking up with people. For the first time in years, I broke my no nudes, no camsex rule. I feel awful about myself.

I am 23 years old. I realise that my hooking-up with people phase was just a copy of my camsex stage. I realise that the men I hooked up with used the exact same tactics as the men I had camsex with: seemed like nice people so they could use me; got angry at me when I said no to them because they felt entitled to whatever they wanted for being nice to me; and thought that they could drop me for weeks at a time because I will always come running back to them. Sometimes I feel so assured in myself because I have spent years learning about all the maipulation tactics that they all use and because I can say no to them when they try to guilt me; sometimes I feel like that same 14 year old girl who ignored every red flag that she ever saw because she was so deperate for love and attention from anyone.

I am 24 years old. I am 2 years younger than my ex Sam was when I dated him and 4 years younger than Glenn was when I started talking to him. I look at the 18-20 year olds in our office and they are basically children to me. If I feel this way now, how much creepier will it feel when I actually hit 26 or 28? I tell people I have no interest in men and for the first time in my life I truly mean it. I stopped dating them years ago but all interest in them is gone now. Sometimes people tell me that I just haven't met the right man yet. I shrug it off but I want to scream at them. I have met dozens of men who have told me that they're different to the rest but they are all the same in the end. The right man doesn't exist.

#long post #one day I will make another post detailing so many of these men I remember from my cam sex and hook up days #the stories I have are pretty horrid #but they do explain why I don't trust men

[usedtobecooler]

Oh my fuck if you used your writerly powers for Billy Knight *chews on pillow*

How about making Billy come twice, he'd be so desperate to be good for you but overstimulated and a mess. Can be from riding him until he's hard again, sucking him off, idk my eyeballs are gonna explode if I think about it too much 😱

Pairing | Billy Knight x fem!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), handjobs (not really, it's over his pants lol), oral m receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it kids), dubious content (possibly? it's very much wanted but billy doesn't voice his consent), premature ejaculation, overstimulation, mentions of poor mental health, mentions of medication, mention of physical ticks, health facility setting, fluff, angst, billy is incredibly touch starved.

Word Count | 3k

A/N | this was purely self-indulgent because i love billy so much, i've not proofread it so if you see any mistakes no you didn't

"Bill, how longs it been since a girl touched you?" You ask quietly, leaning out to rest your hand on his knee. You don't miss the way his leg jerks a little under the touch, like you'd burned him with a match.

"I don't - I don't know. Not since I was in school, a while ago." Billy's voice is thick, wet, accent shining through with every word he speaks. You can tell he's mortified by your question, the way his tick kicks up a little after being stagnant the whole of your visit so far, the constant swiping of his nose turning it red raw.

You wince a little at his confession, can't help but screw your face up - it's obvious that you look sad for him. He hadn't had it easy his whole adulthood, really, being constantly in and out of hospital for various mental health disorders meant that he was starved in the affection department, too busy trying to get better before he could focus on a girl.

He looks like he's getting better, that you can tell. He was finally allowed visitors in his room, not in the mess hall, which meant he was being trusted alone without constant supervision. He also just looked cleaner cut; the black Henley adorning his toned torso suited him so much better than the baggy grey hoodie he always wore. His hair was neat, combed back, though his stubbly beard still remained.

He looked nicer with it, you thought. Not so much like a scared schoolboy, it made him look older in a more masculine way. He'd told you the medication was helping, too, that he was sleep schedule was improving and he wasn't so anxiety ridden all the time, scared that somebody was coming to get him.

This private place had been better than anywhere the NHS had sent him, clearly having money was the big factor in whether mental health sufferers really ever got the help they needed. You didn't pry him on where the money came from to pay for the treatment, sometimes it was better to stay out of the Knights' business.

"Where were you, uh, going with this?" Billy's shaky voice snaps you out of your trance, and you realise you'd been staring back and forth between his face, chest and crotch unabashedly this entire time. Your cheeks heat up, and you glance away to look at the clock ticking behind his head, suddenly becoming so interesting.

"You'll think I'm being so silly," You sputter, subtly fanning your face with your hand that wasn't still slapped on Billy's knee, in a bid to cool down a little, embarrassment taking over your whole body, "I just thought that, maybe, it'd help you relax a little if you, or if I helped you... take the edge off."

Billy cocks his head to the side, confusion etching onto his features before it dawns on him exactly what you meant. He flushes a deep red, "Oh, um. The prescription pills they have me on s-sort of... stop me from being able to f-finish, uh, lot of the time."

You're the reason he's stuttering, you know that and it's making you want to lunge at him and wrap him up in a big hug to calm him down. You've clearly mortified him with your question, too forward and full on for somebody who may as well still have been a virgin with the amount of time that'd gone by since he'd last been in any sexual encounter that wasn't with his own right hand.

"I can... well I can try?" You say it like it's a question, eyes flitting back to look at him once more, the heat on his face making him look even more endearing, his long dark lashes fanning across the tips of his cheeks as he closes his eyes and sucks in a sharp breath.

Your hand had inched further up his thigh without you even realizing, and you gasp when the back of your hand brushes against his obvious erection through his dark jogging bottoms. You question now if it's not actually embarrassment that's making him flush so dark - but arousal instead.

"You'll tell me if I'm reading this wrong, yeah?" You ask him gently, voice barely above a whisper as you slide your palm over his cock through the thick material of his pants, clear outline making it obvious he had no underwear on underneath. Your breath hitches as you go to curl your hand around his length, so thick that your fingers can't wrap around it fully.

You're watching in awe as a wet patch starts to form on the soft cotton, dampening it until it's stained darker, whilst you go between ghosting your hand up and down gently and squeezing softly. Billy can't rip his eyes away from you, drifting back and forth between your shocked face and your hand grasping at him.

"I'm gonna cum, darlin'. Sorry, shit," Billy's hand claws onto the leather arm of his chair and he's hunching in on himself, coming with a low, gruff moan, painting the inside of his sweatpants with his release.

Your eyes widen in shock, a gasp escaping your lips as you sit back and take in what just happened. Your thighs clench, a wave of heat overcoming your body at the thought of him coming undone so easily under your touch.

"M'sorry, this is so embarrassing." Billy's whiny little voice breaks the silence, he throws his head back and rubs at his face with his hands. They're big enough that they completely engulf his features, making his head seem small in comparison. In that split second, you decide you want - no, need to have his hands all over you. You needed to show him what it was like to touch a girl, feel her go pliant under his touch.

"It's not." You say it all too quick, hand tearing away from his crotch to grab at his arm and pull his hands away from his face so he could look at you properly. His eyes are watering, big brown orbs clearly showing his distress and it makes your heart ache, "It's not embarrassing, Bill. It's normal, you've not been touched by another person in, what, seven years? Maybe longer? Don't feel like you should be better at this."

You slip out of your own chair across from Billy, sliding onto your knees in front of him with a dull thud, shuffling between his spread legs, "Can I touch you again? Proper this time?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, batting your lashes at him prettily, "I promise I'll make it good for you."

Billy shakes out a stuttered sigh, cock already kicking up again in interest at the thought of your bare flesh connecting with his own. You're so gorgeous, he's thought about you in this way for so long, but he always thought you'd do better than him. That you could do better than him.

He thought you were only still friendly with him out of pity, at the end of the day you had been Jimmy's friend first. You hadn't had any dealings with Jimmy in years, yet you always still checked in with Billy, visited often. Maybe it was because you knew he didn't really have any other friends, nobody to look out for him but you.

Billy hazards a glance down at you when he feels your fingers brush over the waistband of his soiled sweats, helps you by lifting his hips up when you tug at them to pull them down. You leave them to pool at his ankles, no patience to take them off completely.

He's fully hard again just at the sight of you on your knees in front of him, leaky tip slapping against his belly, his previous load still glistening down his shaft, perfect for using to lube him up.

"Can I put my mouth on you?" You ask tentatively, fingers ghosting over his balls, up his shaft to wrap deftly around the tip. You pull his foreskin down a little to reveal the mushroom shaped head, another blurt of precum shooting out of his slit and coating your thumb.

Billy never does reply to you, too entranced with the look of your hand on his bare skin, your own flesh feeling so hot it almost burns, searing through his sensitive spots.

You shuffle forward a bit more, mouth hovering over the head of his cock so you can spit a glob of saliva onto it for extra lubricant. Billy hisses, big doe eyes staring at you, unblinking, in awe of you and what you're doing for him.

When your lips finally wrap around the tip, you can't help the moan that leaves you. He tastes salty but clean as you suck and lick at him, heady in such a delicious way it intoxicates you, clouds your senses. You move your hand a bit lower so you can take more of him in, having to bring up your other hand to wrap with it so you can cover his shaft properly.

He's so thick, stretching your mouth wide and cracking your lips. You sink down a bit further, taking more of his cock in until you're gagging, throat closing up around him.

You can hear Billy's fingernails scratching at the leather of the chair, his hips stuttering up into your mouth in a telltale sign that he's close to coming already. His belly is shaking, moans escaping him in quick presession like he can't contain them.

You can't let him come like this; you had to have his cock in you before your visit was over, your core ached for it, your panties feeling damp just from touching him. Billy consumed your entire being, had you feeling needy and desperate.

When you release his dick with a 'pop' he sputters out a little whine, a clear sign that he was so close to the edge before you finished what you were doing.

You look up at him through wet lashes, his face burning a deep purple and the veins on his neck popping from the strain of him struggling not to come. You get up off your knees, pulling your tights down your legs along with your panties so that you're bare from the bottom down, sliding your shirt up over your head to just leave you in a bra on top.

"What're you, shit," Billy struggles to get his words out, ticking and wiping his nose with the backs of his fingers, "what're you doing?"

"Can I ride you?" You ask gently, edging closer to him and kicking his feet until his legs are a bit closer together. Billy nods, and you take that as permission to mount him, spread legs bracketing his hairy thighs.

You flip your skirt up a little, reaching behind you to grab at the base of Billy's cock. You rub the tip in between your folds, all whilst watching him and you don't miss the way his eyes roll back, head tipping so his stubbly neck is bared to you.

You take it slowly, sliding down inch by inch until your cunt is nestled against his groin, thatch of dark pubes tickling your delicate skin. You feel so full it's delicious, his thick cock feeling like it was made to be nestled deep in you.

Billy instinctively reaches out to grab at your hips, stilling you from moving until he got used to the feeling of your soaking wet cunt enveloping him. He breathes in and out deeply, not even baring to look at you, worried he'd blow his load immediately if he did.

You bring your hands out to gently brush over his cheeks, silently forcing him to look at you, which he does eventually. He's just so pretty, his big brown orbs watery and bloodshot, his plump red lips bitten, his cute nose darkened from the constant rubbing as he ticked.

He was so perfect you couldn't fucking stand it. You let your knees do some work for you, finally lifting up a few inches and sinking back down to the hilt. Billy's eyes flutter shut, a high-pitched moan leaving him, the feeling of your sopping, gummy cunt tightening around him feeling fucking heavenly.

You pick up a steady pace quickly, letting yourself be consumed by Billy completely. His big hands running up and down from your waist to your hips and back again, his moans and whimpers clouding your head, his thick cock nudging at your insides so deliciously it made you ache.

You remove your hands from his face, reaching to unclasp your bra and let it fall, baring your tits to him. You shake him gently to make him open his eyes, so he can get a good eyeful. What you don't expect is for him to lean forward immediately and latch onto your left nipple, suckling gently.

"Oh, Billy," You're a moaning mess above him, your cunt feeling so full, whole body on fire with the feeling of his body hard pressed against yours. He's mouthing at your breasts, sucking on your nipples as if his life depended on it.

He's whining, hips stuttering up against yours to meet your bounces. There's no real rhythm to it, his inexperience clear as day, but you're struggling to care with how good he's making you feel. The catch and drag of the head of his cock brushing your spongey spot, making your pussy slicker than before.

"God, darling, I'm so sorry," Billy groans, letting go of your nipple and kissing along the swell of your tit instead, whining out as you speed up a little, helping him chase his orgasm, "I'm gonna cum, fuck."

"Do it, babe, s'okay," You moan, tugging at his hair a little to get him to crane his neck up, to finally press a kiss to his lips. That's what does it for him, has his hips stuttering against yours as he comes deep inside of you.

He opens his mouth to moan, and you take that as your opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth to lap lazily against his own. He shudders through his orgasm, your hips slowing down to a stop when he starts to shake with overstimulation.

He's not very good at kissing, but his plump lips and wide tongue make up for it. You find your cunt fluttering at the feeling, clamping down around his cock to milk the final bit of come out of him. You try not to be disappointed that you haven't been able to chase your own release, too focused on making Billy feel good.

You're not sure when you stop kissing, but when you do and you open your eyes again, you notice Billy's eyes are wet and his cheeks are stained with tear marks. You wipe his tears away with your thumb, smiling at him until he's forced to smile back.

"Good?" You ask gently, hips rocking subtly, his soft cock still nudging slightly against your soft spot. You try not to be pushy, knowing he'd be sensitive, but you can't help but want to do it again, the coil in your gut still wound tight with need.

Billy nods, huffing out a little, "I can - I can feel that, you know?" He says, nodding towards your soft hips moving, "It's - it's really sensitive, God."

You continue moving your hips in silence, squeezing your cunt around him, feeling his dick throbbing inside of you like it's trying to pique interest again. You really hope it does, you need to do this for a little longer, just a little.

"You can come again though, right? Let me try, please?" You're basically begging him, forehead to forehead and circling your hips back and forth on his already half hard cock and he's crying again, overcome with pleasure and sensitivity, struggling to think straight through the feeling of you on top of him.

Billy nods anyway, a silent yes and you use the leverage of your knees on the hard material of the chair to rise back up again, sinking back down softly. You do it like this until he's fully hard again, up down, up down, up down, your nails digging into the skin of his neck to keep yourself stable.

His hot hands on your waist make your skin feel like it's on fire, has your tummy coiling even tighter, the telltale sign of your own orgasm beginning to wash over you with every drag of his cock head against your gummy walls.

"That's it, Bill, God, your cock feels so good." You cry out, chasing your high until your cunt spasms around him and you feel the white-hot waves of pleasure crashing around you. A gush of slick comes from you, making your pussy impossibly wetter, so wet you feel it drip down your inner thighs onto Billy's own.

You feel like you black out for a second, only coming to when you feel Billy's hands grip onto your hips impossibly tighter so he can fuck up into you from below, his wet moans telling you he's close to coming again, too.

"Fuck, I love you, darling, shit. Love you, always have, m'so sorry, fuckfuck," Billy's hands slide up your back, tugging you until you're impaled on his cock impossibly deeper, chest pressed flush to his own as he comes for the third time, face buried into your neck tightly.

Your heart swells at his words, face flushing dark at the confession. Your insides bloom warmly, consumed with the sheer love you have for him, "I love you too, Bill. Loved you forever, was it not obvious?"

Billy's crying against your chest, hot tears spilling onto your bare chest, "No, I didn't, God, why didn't you tell me?"

"You needed to get better first, Bill." Your voice is soft, hand deftly running over his hair soothingly, "You're getting better now, though. It was time. I'm here forever, I'm not going anywhere."

You whisper encouraging words into his skin until his cries come to a stop, his shuddering body finally stilling. He'd finish his treatment, get the fuck out of here and you could start your life together.

It was the only thing keeping him focused on getting better - he needed to, to go out and see the world with you by his side.

#i'm gonna gnaw my fucking arm off by the way #i have felt so many things writing this it's not even funny omg #billy knight #billy knight fic #billy knight strike #billy knight x reader #billy knight fluff #billy knight smut #billy knight x female reader #billy knight x fem!reader #cb strike #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn x female reader #my fanfic #mine

[writeshite]

Smart Cookie

Summary:

“Huh, impressive, Dr. Reid; you’re a smart cookie.” You hold a door open, and he passes through; confused, he turns back. “Smart cookie?” “Yeah, you know, clever, intelligent,” you explained, “a smart cookie.”

Pairings:

Spencer Reid x Male!Reader

Tags:

Fluff | Inaccurate Laws Probably | First Meetings | Tattooed Reader (Because I Don't See Enough Of That) |

Words: 3871

Author's Note:

Guess what I started watching 😂 but like seriously, I am loving Criminal Minds, and as you can see, Spencer has become my favorite, I just wanna wrap this man in a hug or something.

Next

“Love is friendship that has caught fire. It is quiet understanding, mutual confidence, sharing, and forgiving. It is loyalty through good and bad times. It settles for less than perfection and makes allowances for human weaknesses.” 

- Ann Landers

Spencer’s knowledge of romance could be put together in a mountain of anecdotes and books, labeled by theme, source, and moment of discovery - sexuality, unknown source, age 15, conclusion: gay panic. Practical experience, however, could be summed into a blurb on the back of a book and promptly thrown in a fire. Friendship was something far easier; he’d come to learn it later in life - with childhood peers who took pleasure in putting him through the worst of what the American high school hierarchy had to offer - and even now, in adulthood, there were times he would think that those around him much preferred his absence over his presence.

The BAU was a lot kinder than high school was. Still, there were moments when patience would run thin, tempers may flair, or the occasional reminder that now was not the time for a tangent or a pointless anecdote or ‘do you ever shut up?’ or anything else along those lines - he didn’t mind, not like he’d used to as a child, besides, more often than not, the comments came from outside the BAU. Bystanders, police, investigators - very rarely did Spencer feel the need to squeeze himself into a neat little box and present what was deemed desirable to others, at least not until now.

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Reid.”

Change was never readily accepted by the BAU; in regards to new and retiring teammates, it was met with distaste; the change came in the form of you - a recent transfer to the team - your first case with them in Seattle, Washington. An open case, the unsub would stalk their victims and gather intel on them and their lives before attacking; victims had the murder weapons clutched in their right hand and some form of personal belonging stolen by the unsub. Trophies for his collection, his victims, all graduating students from the local university - he had access to the victim’s schedules, details of their personal lives, and used tools at the scene. 

“We’ll split up,” Gideon says, “ask around the university, staff, students, and the victim’s families.”

Spencer gets paired with you, questioning the university’s Faculty of Arts, the main focus of the unsub. The Faculty of Arts focuses on creative arts, writing, philosophy, and humanities - the liberal arts - with the campus’ main library in the area. “Wow, this is fancy,” you remark. Fancy’s an understatement; the faculty entrance was grand, with a pediment and columns overhead and the university emblem on a banner at the door. With the recent deaths, fewer students had been attending classes in person; the faculty head, Professor Jody Cunningham, was an older man with dark graying at the edges, a well-trimmed beard, and smoothed clothes.

“Professor Cunningham….” you called his attention, introducing yourself, “....and this is my colleague, Dr. Reid; we’re with the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

“A pleasure; thank you for coming; we’re all devastated by the news.”

“Did you know the students?” you ask.

Professor Cunningham nods, “They’d just handed in their thesis, and I’d been making my way through before, you know….” he ran a hand down his face, “now, none of my graduates or other students are coming in.”

“The murders all connect back to one of the subjects taught here; the first was arts, the second, humanities; if he’s going by alphabetical order, then the next one should be natural sciences,” Spencer describes the first two victims, their characteristics, similarities, differences, “do you know any graduate students doing the natural sciences who fit that profile?”

“Three students I can think of, though one of them’s not in the States anymore, so it can only be the other two, Jesse Hudson and Lynn Watson. Jesse’s majoring in biology, and his thesis, I believe, was on the role of the clock gene in protection against neural and retinal degeneration; not 100% caught up on what that is yet, Lynn —”

“The clock gene is a major circadian system regulator found in mammals and fruit flies, the latter of which the transcription factors - clock and cycle - combine and stimulate the transcription of the period and timeless genes. The two proteins bind together and enter the cell nucleus, where the timeless gene then begins to degrade and the liberated period gene interacts with the clock and cycle to prevent them from activating gene expression.” His explanation comes to a stop, and he’s hoping he hasn’t managed to weird you out.

You turn to him, “What happens after?”

“What?” He’s dumbfounded, “uh…well…you want to hear me speak more?”

“It’s why I’m asking,” you reply. “If that’s ok, you don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, I’d love to; I just….people usually ask me to stop talking,” he shrugs. You raise your eyebrows, and he feels giddy, beaming a little; he carries on, even after you’re finished with professor Cunningham, you don’t deter him. Head tilted to glance at him, your undivided attention. “....I read this from an old thesis in my junior year.”

“And you still remember it?” 

He nods. “I don’t forget much,” he points to his head, “eidetic memory.”

“Huh, impressive, Dr. Reid; you’re a smart cookie.” You hold a door open, and he passes through; confused, he turns back.

“Smart cookie?”

“Yeah, you know, clever, intelligent,” you explained, “a smart cookie.”

Spencer’s a smart cookie. 

He’s a smart cookie.

He’s your smart cookie. 

Well, technically, he’s not, but you’re the only one that calls him that nickname, not all the time; of course, you still call him by his name, but you also call him smart cookie. He bounces on his feet when you call him that, a little grin on his face as he turns to you, “What’s got you all happy, cookie?”

“Nothing, just happy to see you too,” he responds earnestly.

“I’d hope so; otherwise, this coffee run would’ve been for nothing,” you remark, placing his order on his desk, a smile on your face; then you go to your desk, to the left of him, and across from Morgan - kick your legs up and lean back on your chair. 

“What none for me?” Derek pouts.

“Sorry, only deliver to sweetness,” you wink at Spencer, and he grins.

Morgan fakes offense, “Oh, oh, that’s how it’s going to be, alright. Don’t expect me to play middleman with you and Nick again.”

You snort, “Doubt that’s ever going to happen again,” you tell him, “that ship has sailed.” You move your hand through the air, mimicking a wave. 

“Nick?” Spencer asks.

“Morgan’s friend, we hooked up a few times, but it never went anywhere,” you reply.

“Yeah, loverboy here did a hell of a job with him, could barely walk the next day, not that he was complaining,” Derek added on, “Said you had quite the package.”

You throw a pen at Derek, tongue stuck out at him, “TMI Derek,” Elle voiced; she’s just arrived, her own coffee in hand, chuckling while she shakes her head. 

“I’m just giving performance reviews,” Derek shrugs.

“Oh god,” you laugh. 

Spencer feels a little hot under the collar, knocking his knees lightly to keep his imagination at bay - your voice by his ear, hands roaming his body before settling on his hips, his own arms around your shoulder - he shook his head a little, eyes slightly wide as he sipped the coffee.

“You alright there, cookie?” 

“I’ve been meaning to ask, what’s with the cookie nickname?” Elle voices.

You shrug, “Spence’s a smart cookie.”

“That’s a weird name,” Derek says.

“I think it’s adorable,” Elle counters.

“Adorable name for an adorable guy,” you wink again, and Spencer looks away, flustered. 

“Well, I’m not adorable….adorableness inspires great affection or delight; you use it to describe someone or something that makes you love or like them, usually because they are….” attractive, he wants to say, but that might imply something and people didn’t like it when he implied things. He’d like you to keep liking him.

“You good there, Reid?” Derek’s voice snaps him from his thoughts, and he nods, finishing off with a lesser, more implicating adjective. Attractive, there was a 50% chance you found him attractive, but he couldn’t get all that information out of a singular nickname, let alone a few interactions - you liked his rambles and tangents, that was something, right? You’d made him an origami heart - that he kept tucked away in his journals - and called it a hint.

“No facts for me today, cookie?” You’re parked just further along the street of your target - a suburban house in Atlanta, one car in the driveway, three bedrooms, and the target of your unsub - Hotch and Gideon were on the opposite end of the street, Elle, and Derek were shacked up in the house across from it. JJ and Garcia were back at base. 

“Facts?”

You turn to him, “Yeah.” You tilt your head, and he feels something, the little fluttering in his stomach, his hair brushes by his cheek when he tilts his head as well, and before he can reach up to sweep it away, you beat him to it. 

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s alright….” Spencer wishes he’d stopped talking right there, that his mouth just shut or Hotch’s voice filtered through earlier before he laid down his knowledge on human touch and then proceeded to end it with the words love hormone - quite the subtle move. On the plane ride back, Reid feels every muscle in his body knot and stiffen as he goes through the interaction in the car; you’re sat beside him, dozing off with your head propped by the wall. He glances over at you every once in a while, faintly touching the side of his head you’d touched, “love hormone,” he whispers to himself.

Dr. Spencer Reid was something else; when you’d joined the BAU, it took some adjusting, your first case in Seattle was a handful, and the unsub - a student advisor - had access to his victims. He’d begun with the Faculty of Arts, and chosen graduate students from each subject, starting alphabetically; he’d only managed two before you’d caught him. You’d learned that Dr. Reid was intelligent, had an impressive memory, and “....I read this from an old thesis in my junior year.” And his voice was really nice.

He seemed to like the nickname smart cookie, bouncing on his feet and grinning when he responds; he does the same when you greet him either way. “What’s got you all happy?” you ask him after a coffee run. 

“Nothing,” he responds, “just happy to see you too.”

“I’d hope so. Otherwise, this coffee run would’ve been for nothing,” you remark, placing the warm drink on his desk. Granted, it’s not really a coffee run; you’d only gotten him coffee, mainly for the smile on his face. You turned to your desk across from Morgan.

“What, none for me?” he pouts.

“Sorry, only deliver to sweetness,” you wink at Spencer, who grins in response as Morgan fakes offense, mouth agape.

“Oh, oh, that’s how it’s going to be, alright. Don’t expect me to play middleman with you and Nick again.” 

“Nick?” Spencer asks.

Morgan’s friend Nick had been nice; you’d had a double date with Morgan, and one of his dates, then gone on a few more dates and spent a few nights together, but it hadn’t worked out - nothing personal, but that ship had sailed. 

“Yeah, loverboy here did a hell of a job with him, could barely walk the next day, not that he was complaining, said you had quite the package,” you threw a pen at Derek, groaning, as Elle regretted walking into work at this moment and hearing the tail end of that conversation. Spencer goes quiet, and his eyes dart away as he sips his drink, a blush creeping along his face.

“You alright there, cookie?” you ask him, and he turns his attention back to you with a small smile.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, what’s with the cookie nickname?” Elle asks; she looks between you and Spencer.

You shrug, “Spence’s a smart cookie.”

“That’s a weird name,” Derek says.

“I think it’s adorable,” Elle counters.

“Adorable name for an adorable guy,” you wink again, and Spencer looks away, flustered.

“Well, I’m not adorable….adorableness inspires great affection or delight; you use it to describe someone or something that makes you love or like them, usually because they are….” he doesn’t finish right away, stalling, as you assume he gathers his words. You’re not sure what he was supposed to say, but you don’t think it was “....small.” Even after, he looks deep in thought, mind wandering away from the present.

You don’t think about it much and proceed with your day; it’s a slow day at the BAU, so paperwork seems to be the main task today, though there’s not much of it, so the majority of the day is spent idling by each other’s desks. You’ve been throwing scrunched-up paper balls at each other; Spencer had started off on the discovery of paper, then its distribution globally, and was now on its more uncommon uses. “....and you could use the paper to make worthless currency.”

“Like Monopoly money?” you question.

“Probably.”

You toss back the paper, and when he catches it this time, he unfolds it and refolds it into a swan, “You can also use it to make origami, though I wouldn’t consider that an uncommon use.”

When he hands you the swan, you take another piece of paper, fold it into a heart, you drop it in his hand, “You can also use it to leave hints,” you say, and he stares down at the heart, rosy-cheeked.

Dr. Reid was also easy to fluster.

“No facts for me today, cookie?” you ask him during surveillance; the house is empty, a decoy set in place to catch the unsub, surrounded on all sides; now all you had to do was wait. 

“Facts?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you turn to him, tucking his hair back, his eyes widen again, and a blush runs along his cheeks. You apologize, withdrawing your hand.

“No, it’s alright….touch builds up cooperative relationships and reinforces reciprocity, and studies show that it signifies safety and trust. Basic touch can calm cardiovascular stress and activate the body’s vagus nerve, which is involved with our compassionate response. A simple touch can trigger the release of oxytocin, the, uh, love hormone,” he pauses, “why did I say that?”

“We’ve got movement.” Hotch’s voice interjects before anything else can be said, and you’re both out of the car, guns drawn as you track up to the house. The unsub tries to run back through the back, but Morgan’s waiting for him, knocking him down before he can escape. You don’t stick around in Atlanta, exhausted; you all pile into the plane, and you’re out; you wake to Spencer tapping your shoulder.

You stretch your arms, “Thanks for waking me, cookie.” 

“No problem,” he responds. 

You’re out the second your head hits the pillow, and wake up uncomfortably in yesterday’s suit. The new apartment looks homier and less empty, with most of your things already set out; you toss the old clothes in the hamper and get ready - shower, teeth, breakfast, and out the door. It’s a warm morning, so you carry your jacket in your hand.

“Damn, loverboy, I didn’t know you had sleeves.” You’d bumped into Derek on the way in, and he’d been immediately drawn to the ink on your arms. 

“Oh, these old things,” you quip, “they’re nothing special.” 

He whistles, and you lightly smack his arm, “Oh, shut up.” Derek wasn’t the only one taken back by the tattoos; the others were either shocked or intrigued, gathering by your desk to gander at them.

“Never, ever, keep your sleeves down again,” Garcia pleads.

“I’ll try,” you chuckle.

Spencer walks in last and takes a double glance at you, “You have tattoos? Wow,” he pauses, “wow.”

The others soon dissipate, but Spencer lingers a bit, looking between you and the ink; he reaches out but then hesitates, you hold out your arm and nod, and he traces the imagery. “That's one of my favorites,” you comment on the one he’s tracing.

“It’s beautifully detailed,” he observes, “they all are.” 

“Thanks, I’ve had them done over the years,” you say. He traces the lines to your fingers, and when he finishes, he moves to the other arm - he gives you facts on the origins of tattoos and asks about some of your tattoos. You get lost in your own world, carrying on with the conversation as you’re called in for a briefing.

“What about this one?”

Spencer fixates on your tattoos, tracing them over and over, eyes following his fingers as they go over the lines again, “My second tattoo, got it a few months after my first one on my birthday.”

“What was your first one?” You’re going through paperwork looking for clues and hints to lead you to the unsub, “It’s a spinal tattoo,” you tell him and his eyes widen, “I can show you if you’re curious.”

He brings a folder to his face, a nervous laugh, and he looks like he’s considering it; he shrugs a little, “Only if you want,” he murmurs.

“Oh, cookie, I could eat you up,” you reply, and he makes a sound of amusement or surprise, or maybe it’s giddiness - as he kicks his legs a bit.

“Hey Morgan, how does dating work?”

Morgan slowly lowers the paper in his hand; it lays on his desk as he leans forward and glances over at Spencer. “Come again?”

“How does dating work?” Spencer repeats, “I assume you’re the most adept at this matter, I mean, I know how it works, but I’m also not…are you alright? Your face is doing —” Spencer gestures uncertainly.

“Just….just savoring this moment, " he replies, smiling, “I know something you don’t,” he cheers.

“I don’t not know about dating, I’m aware of it from societal expectations, facets, and data, but I lack the field experience.”

“Don’t,” Morgan holds his hands up, “don’t ruin the moment,” then he’s back, a smirk on his face; he asks, “Is it loverboy?” Spencer nodded; Morgan clapped his hands, a satisfied grin on his face, “I knew it!” he whispered before returning to the matter at hand, “So,” he cleared his throat, hands together on his desk, “dating.”

“Yes.”

“We’ll start simple; what do you know about dating? Not the facts, just the practical, like have you ever been on a date?”

“No, well, there was this one time I did get asked out by this girl in my class; we decided to go to the local park, but then I overheard her tell her friends it was a prank and they were going to douse me in some concoction, so I didn’t go,” he responds, “does that count?”

Derek shakes his head, “No, it does not, and are you ok?”

“Oh, yeah, it was a long time ago,” he shrugs, “so, what do I do about —” he winds his hands in a circular motion. “Is there a set of words I should say? Are there things I’m expected to do?”

“No, no, look,” Derek replied, “just, he likes you, for you, so don’t worry, just be yourself.”

“Be myself, huh? That’s the first time someone’s said I should do that,” he remarks. “Wait, how do you know he likes me?”

Derek raised an eyebrow, “He looks at you like the sun shines out of your ass,” he responded, “trust me, he likes you.” Spencer would like to believe Derek, and he does, but the little nagging voice in the recess of his mind, he starts wringing his hands a little and runs them along his pants to calm his nerves. “Hey,” Spencer glances up; Derek’s moved from his seat to his desk to his, leaning, “he likes you, ok?”

“How can you be sure?” Spencer purses his lips, twisting the strap of his bag, “He doesn’t deviate from how he acts when he interacts with all of us, he flirts with you just as much as he does with me, and Garcia, and Elle —”

“Why don’t you just ask him,” Derek points to the brief room; you’re currently standing by the door to it in deep conversation with Garcia. Spencer turns back and shakes his head.

“I think he’s busy; I —I’ll do it later.”

Later, in layman’s terms, really meant not ever. Preferably on his deathbed if he had to, but now that he’d asked Derek, any moment he’d look over, Derek would gesture to you, head tilted towards where you’d gone or were. Sometimes he’d mimic movements with his hand - one hand you, the other him, and they’d smoosh together into a kiss - then he’d groan, running a hand down his face when Spencer would shake his head frantically.

He’d like to avoid you and give a chance for the infatuation to die, but either he can’t bring himself to or doesn’t want to. He’s been playing the potential outcomes in his mind, he could confess, get turned down, and you’d remain friends, or he’d confess, get horribly rejected and then never see you again, or he could confess, and you could return the feelings. Considering all the options, he won’t be doing anything; he’ll just let this float away.

“You’re staring, cookie.” It’s the two of you in the kitchenette, no case, just tying up loose ends. “What’s going on in that mind of yours?”

“A potential hypothesis,” he responds.

“Oh yeah, what about?”

“Uh….I’m not sure how to put it into words,” he responds.

“Well, that’s a first,” you laugh, turning away from the kettle heating, “come on, give it a go.”

He nervously rubs his hands together, “Actually….it might be easier if I–I demonstrated it.”

“In the kitchen?” You ask, and he nods, asking you to close your eyes; you raise an eyebrow.

“Just trust me,” he begs, “....please.”

You do so, and there’s a split second where you can hear him mutter to himself - you can do this, come on - there’s a soft push against your lips, and it takes you a moment to realize he’d kissed you, holding your wrist to balance and ground himself, and then it’s gone. Your eyes open, and Spencer’s pursing his lips, hands wrangling more intensely, “R–results?” He’s not just asking; he’s hoping, the subtle worry underneath his voice as he waits for an answer.

You take one of his hands and reel him back in with a slight tug, and he looks so terrified as if bracing himself for the worst, so you kiss him, hoping it displaces any of his fears - Spencer clings to you, even after, your bodies are flush as he hides away in your arms; drawing back every once in a while to look at you, before shying away, a frivolous laugh caught in his throat. 

“Good?” You inquire, and he nods.

“Very good.”

End Note:

I apologize profusely for using the word cookie as a nickname for Spencer, but I named the fic and got committed so you get to suffer with me. Stay Hydrated.

#spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds imagine #i spent an hour looking through quotes because big brain said 'start off fic with quote that foreshadows what you're gonna write about' #tattooed!reader #smart cookie universe :)

[jenowithjaem]

word count: 1103 | warnings: centered around reader being upset because of their father, reader cries, allusions to alcohol/alcoholism, mentions of grief and the death of an unnamed family member (reader’s brother), hurt/comfort, non-sexual nudity (they take a bath), trauma dumping except it’s me who’s trauma dumping lol *reader wears makeup but no pronouns or gender indicators are used; Seungcheol calls reader baby a lot

Seungcheol knew that something was wrong as soon as he stepped over the threshold of your shared apartment’s front door. It was unusually quiet- normally bustling with music or noise from the kitchen. Not even the TV in the living room was on.

Once his shoes are off, he navigates his way through the dark apartment, heading straight for the bedroom. He finds you tucked under a pile of blankets, initially thinking that you're asleep.

But when he hears your quiet sniffles, he immediately drops his coat from his arms, the leather falling to the floor carelessly.

“Baby.” You hear your boyfriend's voice call out softly, yet filled with concern. Then the blankets are being pulled off of you and your body is exposed to the cool chill of your bedroom. The bed dips under Seungchoel’s weight, and his hands are rubbing your back gently. “Baby, what's wrong?”

You stay quiet. Seungcheol knows it'll take a few minutes for you to calm down enough to speak- as you don’t usually speak when you're crying- so he patiently waits until you're ready, continuing to rub comforting circles on your back.

A few minutes pass and you finally lift your head from the heap of pillows. Your makeup is smudged and it stains one of the pillows.

Seungcheol carefully reaches out to wipe the crusty mascara from under your eyes. He pulls you into his chest and you have to keep yourself from crying again. You take a few deep breaths and then you pull away, finally deciding to speak.

“I was supposed to see my parents today, but it fell through.” Was all you had said.

“Did something happen? Are your parents okay?” Seungcheol asks, a frown on his face.

“They're okay.” You assure him.

He nods, confused. “Okay... So what happened, then?”

“Well-” you kind of hesitate. It's not that you don't trust Seungcheol, and it's not that you're not comfortable telling him. It's just that- you know that speaking it out loud makes it that much more real. You let out a breath and hand your head. “Dad’s been drinking again,” you say sadly.

“Ah,” he says, immediately understanding why you're as upset as you are.

“I was really looking forward to seeing them today. And I know that I can drive over there myself, but when mom told me that-” You stop to take a breath. “That dad said he's not driving anywhere because he'd been drinking, it completely ruined my mood. Hearing that made me not even want to see them anymore today.” Seungcheol takes your hand in his, softly running his thumb over your knuckles.

“I feel bad because I hung up on mom. And I know it's not her fault, but it was either hang up and just text her or cry while on the phone. And you know I don't fancy crying in front of people, so I hung up and texted her that we could just wait until tomorrow. I don't have the heart to tell her that I didn't want to be around him if he'd been drinking.” You blink away the tears that threaten to spill, using your free hand to wipe your eyes. This just smears your makeup even more.

“I hate to be like that because I know he's only like that because of ..what happened, but sometimes I feel like he forgets that he's not the only one who lost someone that day.” Someone being your older brother who passed away when you were a teenager. It's something that you've come to terms with over the last few years, and although it'll never be something you get over, it’s something that’s slowly become easier to live with as time passes.

And you know that everyone grieves differently- you know, because you’ve seen it differently in your father and your mother and your other brother- but it's just like you said; it's almost like he forgets that he's not the only one who lost someone that day.

You sniffle before speaking again. “I feel like- like I'm just being sensitive and-” but Seungcheol cuts you off.

“Your feelings matter. And if you feel like you can't, or that you don't want to be around your father when he's like that, then that's completely valid. Don't discredit yourself for having boundaries. Whether it's your parents or not.'' His voice is stern, and you know he's right. You also know that it's pointless to try and argue back. So you don't. You just nod your head and thank him.

“You're welcome, baby. Now let's get your face cleaned of all that makeup. Do you want to take a bath?”

You nod your head and Seungcheol pulls you up from the bed and towards the bathroom.

He helps you clean the ruined makeup from your face, gently wiping it away with a cloth and micellar water. Then he lets you wash your face while he runs the water, making sure it's just the way you like it. He lets the tub fill while he goes back to the bed to collect the linen to be washed, grabbing two towels on his way back in. You're stripped out of your clothes and in the water by then, and Seungcheol soon joins you. He sits behind you, with your back pressed against his broad chest.

The two of you stay silent for the most part, occasionally speaking here or there. But after a while, you break the silence with a quiet call of his name. Your hands are swishing around the water in front of you and you sound timid, almost nervous. He answers with a hum, and you crane your neck around to look at him, only to find him looking at you lovingly.

“Thank you. For always being there for me, and for never making me feel like I'm being overly dramatic or sensitive.”

Seungcheol kisses your temple.

“You don't have to thank me, baby. But I do think you should try and talk to your parents tomorrow and tell them how you feel. It's Saturday so I'll be off- I can go with you if you need some mutual support.”

“I really appreciate the offer, but I think this is something I need to do by myself.”

Seungcheol understands that this is something personal and doesn't necessarily concern him, so he just nods and lets you know that he’ll be there if you change your mind.

“I’ll sleep on it.” You tell him with a small smile.

And you've never been so thankful to have such a strong yet gentle support system like him.

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

Thank you for reading! I’m sorry that this one was so much darker than the other two blurbs I’ve put out. Let me know if I’ve made any mistakes or left out any warnings!

Please remember that it’s okay to reach out for help if you’re struggling with any kind of addiction. And remember that you’re not alone <3

#choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seventeen x reader #READ WARNINGS #leigh writes #cw: alcohol #cw: grief

[thanatoss-favorite-demigod]

CAMERON FLUX VS THE GODS

Full Name: Cameron Flux

Nickname(s): Cam

Pronouns: they/he/she

Gender Identity: trans masc + gender fluid

Sexuality: Bisexual

Mortal Parent: Unknown, missing

Godly Parent: Apollo

Direct Family: One sister, Rhedyn “Rhey” Flux, Daughter of Apollo, Hunter of Artemis. Not that nice to Cam. All the rest of Cam’s family has died.

Tag: #cam’s talking

Powers:

FROM HIS FATHER, APOLLO

Light bending: The ability to control or bend light.

Sun manipulation: Heat & light from the Sun, tends to transfer into metal when enraged, angry, or simply just having a lot of emotions.

Glowing: You get the idea. He glows.

Music manipulation: can make music sound beautiful, understands instruments, and can even make people hear music even if it’s not really there—tends to drive people insane or schizophrenic.

Art: He’s just really good at making art and stuff.

Healing: Can heal people easily, works best with singing (in which he has a great voice).

Plague: Can give people plague and diseases that are incurable or deadly, mainly does this to enemies or those how wrong him.

HEBE YOUTH CURSE

Lasted: 1745–2024

How it happened: Hebe cursed Cam around the age of 3-4, right after his mother went missing.

What it did: Made Cam age 1 year for every 20 years

Broken: 3 years after Cam turned biologically 14

THANATOS IMMORTALITY CURSE

Lasted: 1744–Present day

How it happened: Thanatos came to Cam’s aid when his mother went missing

What it does: Makes Cam immortal, instantly heals him from a green crystal necklace that can’t break nor come off of Cam. If it does he dies.

Unbroken

ARES PATRON

Ares saw Cam’s pure rage, and decided to become his patron. Now, Cam is extremely successful in war and combat.

+ BONUS

Feral. He raised himself on the streets for years, what did you expect?

Speaks a bit of French & Spanish, better in English.

Hispanic descent, 2nd generation.

KEY

[if i talk like this, it’s a recorder/writing-in-my-sketchbook-journal-thing/side-note. they’re just for fun.]

(like this is an action! or whatever they’re called.)

Everyone!

@will-solace-aaaaa half-brother. treats me like an incompetent little sister.

@nico-di-angelo-aaaaa pretty cool. not much to say, other than he’s a son of Hades.

@leo-valdez-graaa Leo. annoying as shit but whatever, he’s super smart

@annabeth-in-your-chase Annabeth! showed me camp when I got here [i’m totally not crushing on her.]

@jason-graceeeeee buff guy. dating Leo. son of Jupiter, i think.

@frank-zhang-skreee i’ve never met him, but what Leo describes him as he seems nice! dating Hazel, last i checked.

@hazel-is-confused Hazel! super nice. daughter of Pluto. [i’m definitely not crushing on her either.]

@piper-mclean-raaa prettiest. woman. alive. 10/10, love her sm she’s like the best older sister ever

@apollos-favorite-child kayla ! super nice, super fun. sometimes makes fun of me [affectionately]

@superbstarlightsheep we get wendy’s together. basically my best friend 🫶

@moththecabin7kid moth ‼️

@yes-im-a-daughter-of-hades SEL‼️‼️‼️❤️

@travis-stollllllllll trav 🤛

@that-dam-daughter-of-poseidon lucy 💙

@genesis-ends-it-all geni the squirtle lover

@bill-son-of-boreas really cute i want to violently kiss him on the mouth haha what who said that

more, coming soon! [when people interact with me and when i remember everyone else]

#cam’s talking #bisexual

[dumbdomb]

Read my pinned post BEFORE you interact: like, reblog, reply, dm, ask, or follow. Must be over eighteen years of age to interact. 18+ only. You do not have my consent to "Like" this post without reading my pinned first. MDNI.

DNI: no/maps, loli, icky kink, "icky" blogs, unspecified "hard" kinks, unspecified "gross" kinks, unspecified "taboo" kinks, unspecified "dark" kinks, ddlg (specifically, doesn't apply to all cgl), older men / younger women, incest, forced fem, detrans kink, misgendering, misogyny, matriarchy, patriarchy, race fetish, fat fetish, feeder, gainer kink, dyke breaking, corrective rape, tradwifery, cucking, infidelity, cheating, hot wife, trophy wife or husband, cucking, pregnancy, alphas, sigmas, femcels, beastiality, zoophilia, allocishet "straight people" kinks and any conservative ideals romanticized or fetishized in kink play or in vanilla romantic and sexual relationships.

allowing me to stay over in your guest room which has, unbeknownst to me, been created into a fully inescapable- yet seemingly safe and normal bedroom. it's true purpose has always been to be the dungeon you'd keep me in so you could prove your loyal devotion to me.

the first night you focus on making sure i'm comfortable and at ease. hidden cameras detail my sleeping schedule and you're prepared for the next phase. we spend some time together during the second day, but mostly you're preparing for something special that evening... at night, once i've fallen asleep, you begin.

Read my pinned BEFORE you interact! 18+ only.

dimly lit monitors power on to display obscenely pornographic content, hidden speakers play binaural and hypnotic audio, and soon i am surrounded by a barrage of subliminal ideas designed to coerce me into becoming more deviant. the moment i stir awake, everything is shut off automatically. i've no idea what is going on, but my head feels fuzzy.

during the day, i seem a bit out of it, but otherwise don't notice anything unusual. like a vacation, i finally begin to relax after a few days. on the fifth night, you continue this nightly programming and increase the volume and lighting just so. when i wake, i catch a glimpse of my surroundings that immediately fall silent and i question whether i saw anything.

Read my pinned post BEFORE you interact: like, reblog, reply, dm, ask, or follow. Must be over eighteen years of age to interact. 18+ only. You do not have my consent to Like this post without reading my pinned first. MDNI.

in the morning i notice some of the clothes i don't wear often have been replaced with similar, yet more revealing styles. i angrily question you about going through my belongings and you act so unaware, surprised, and frightened that someone may have broken into your house that i actually believe you. i help you get new locks and install security cameras to watch over all entrances and windows. i ask you to stay in the room with me that night, and you make a bed on the floor next to mine. nothing more happens, a few uneventful days pass...

READ MY PINNED before you interact! 18+ only.

i suggest you move back to your own room, feeling silly for being scared, you only continue to build my trust in you by comforting me and making me feel safe. everything will change soon enough, bc while i visit a friend during the day, your plans to move into the third phase begin.

all my clothes are replaced with very revealing styles, except for my usual pajamas that i lay out each day. i don't see you when i get back, but figure you're out or taking a nap. i don't know you've changed anything yet, keeping to my new routines in your home. by the time we usually have dinner together, you join me a bit later than usual. and when i retire to bed, it's all so mundane.

READ MY PINNED before you interact! 18+ only.

while i sleep, you turn on the programs. they increase as i squirm in bed, getting louder and more visible. this time, when i wake up, everything stays on as i look around startled and confused. i try to use the remote to turn off the tv, but nothing i do works. i decide to leave the room, scared to stay inside with all the overwhelming perversion around me. when i try to open the door, it's locked. the windows appear to be locked from the outside... i yell out for help, not wanting to believe the situation i'm in, and the obscene volume increases. the more i yell, the louder it gets, until my screams are nearly indistinguishable from the loud moans and cries of pain and pleasure. i go back to bed and cover my head, trying to make it all stop and i somehow manage to fall asleep again.

Read my pinned post BEFORE you interact: like, reblog, reply, dm, ask, or follow. Must be over eighteen years of age to interact. 18+ only. YOU DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT to "Like" this post without reading my pinned FIRST. MDNI.

in the morning, i wake up like normal. as if it were all just a horribly bad dream. i go take a shower and when i look for something to wear, all my clothes are gone. i'm in a towel, my used pajamas already added to the laundry bin in the other room, and all the clothes i have to wear are not mine. i go to leave the room and the door is locked, just like in my dream. i hear you yell out that breakfast will be ready soon, and i should hurry up so it doesn't get cold. how can you be so normal when something strange is going on here? i find the most "comfortable" outfit i can to make do, and after getting dressed the door is unlocked, like i was never locked in to begin with... i felt so confused and wanted to tell you, but i also felt overcome with shame. was it just my mind playing tricks on me?!? ♡

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NO: lurkers, likes only, inactive, empty, or blank blogs. DO NOT LIKE MY CONTENT. DNI. ♥️

#cnc kidnapping #cnc somno #nsft fantasy #nsft concept #somno fantasy #hypnosis #soft cnc #obsessive love #dumbification #stockholm syndrome #lima syndrome #domb brain

[rongzhi]

not sure if you've answered this before but would you happen to know if lgbt+ is common in 'ancient china'? if it was when did it stop being 'common'? i just ask this because i heard of the story about the emperor (? i think) who cut off his sleeve for his lover

The story you're referring to is often called "the Passion of the Cut Sleeve", a story recorded in 汉书 (A History of the Former Han, about Emperor Ai, Liu Xin, of the Han dynasty (who ruled from 7 BC - 1 BC and died at 25 y.o, for perspective) and his lover, Dong Xian. To put it shortly, in order to not wake Dong Xian from sleep, Emperor Ai cut off a sleeve of his robe so that he could get up without disturbing him. "Cut sleeve"/etc (断袖/断袖之癖/断袖之宠) thus eventually because a euphemism for homosexuality. Similar euphemisms came from other, older stories involving monarchs:

"The Story of the Shared Peach"/"The Bitten Peach" led to "shared peach" (分桃) and "bitten peach" (餘桃） becoming a slang for "homosexual". This story is actually often posed as a fable of sorts. Mizi Xia was a courtier of Duke Ling of Wei (not to be confused with the later state of Wei) (ruled 534 — 492 BC) who was very good-looking and once shared a peach with the duke, who was charmed by the gesture and allowed Mizi Xia to use his carriage without having to ask permission. Later, when Mizi Xia's looks had faded, he lost favor with Ling-gong, who then said that Mizi Xia had stolen his carriage and insulted him by giving him a half-eaten peach. Still, Mizi Xia as a legendary figure is often referenced as the ideal lover.

A third story is just that of King Wei and Lord Longyang, which would've taken place somewhere around 260ish BC (give or take a decade). It was recorded briefly that once when the two were out fishing, Longyang began to cry, and when asked why, he said that he was afraid that when he lost his looks, the king, being surrounded by so many beauties, would eventually abandon him. As a result, in order to show Longyang that this was not the case, the king handed down the order that it would be forbidden to discus any other beauties, and punishment for doing so would be death to the entire family and confiscation of property (I know, extra). Later, Longyang was given a fiefdom by the king and "Lord Longyang" (龙阳君) is a slang for homosexual, with "the closeness of Longyang" (龙阳之好) and similar expressions (龙阳之兴) also being a synonym for homosexuality.

As for the other part of your question, I'd say yes....ish. "LGBT+" is a modern concept dominated by western queer/gender/sexuality studies in many ways so I personally do not find it useful to use this term when talking about or trying to understand (Chinese) history.

But yes, there homosexuality in ancient/imperial China, and it was not pathologised or treated as a medical issue or perversion for much of history (basically not until religious/Christian-based homophobia arrived and spread through China via Europeans, esp. missionaries). Neither Buddhism, Daoism, nor Confucianism, the most popular religions/philosophies in China throughout history and today, condemn homosexuality, either. TLDR; for the most part, homophobia was propagated during the Qing Dynasty via Western (European) influence.

Now, was it 'common'? As common as it is today, I suppose. Or, to answer the question I think you're more likely trying to ask: was it open? From my understanding, there were changes in attitudes toward same-sex relations (and sexuality in general) through the dynasties and in certain groups, but for much of pre-modern Chinese history, same-sex attraction and relations were accepted as a facet of life and society. It's often been said that the Tang Dynasty was extremely liberal in many areas including sexuality and sexual expression, whereas by the Qing dynasty, society was increasingly conservative, with more laws being affected to deal with prostitution and sexual deviancy (rape, assault, etc) (unfortunately probably linking homosexuality to deviance due to prevalence of male prostitution for example) while also infamously having a rich culture around (male) same-sex relations (homosexual, homoerotic) in Beijing opera up through the end of imperial China. Overall, Chinese history is so long and varied and attitudes toward and practices surrounding homosexuality changed.

People also got married for different reasons back in the day, i.e, political and social (financial) reasons. Confucius reasons, lol. If you do any reading into it, you'll probably find that Fujian province is often mentioned as place were homosexuality seemed prevalent. Such was even the practice that men would marry into one (usually the more powerful/better off one)'s family. Of course, at the end of the day, there was generally an expectation that one should produce offspring to continue on the family name; at that point there was either adoption or, one man might after a couple years take a wife or concubine (has a lower status/marital rights than a wife) and raise a child to fulfill their duties to family (as dictated by Confucianism).

I should add that lesbians through history often fly under the radar and are less academically explored but my understanding is that female same-sex relations (lesbianism, homoeroticism) was actually more prevalent and unwavering throughout the times, since laws, politics, and society were mostly concerned with what men were up to, basically. Although less discussed, depictions and mentions of lesbianism are nonetheless found in Chinese literature and art throughout history.

And, kind of a side note I couldn't figure out where to stick in this answer, it's worth noting that gender expression was different and somewhat still is different in China so it's ineffectual to completely map modern and western ideas/theories of gender/gender queerness and all that onto...things.

Uh oh the words are leaving me. Aaand I am starting to ramble anyway, so I'll leave it here. Obviously I did not source anything in this reply—I am really just summarising things off the top of my head so if you're truly interested in the subject, it's worth researching and verifying on your own. Maybe this response will give you ideas for jumping off points in any case.

#text #answered ask #long post #gay ask #同志历史 #there could be typos but........ i aint readn that LOL #< update: i read it and there were typos 😒 #sorry i took a couple days to get to this

[satansapostle6]

Kids | Rodrick Heffley

Spotify Playlist Link

Rodrick Heffley becomes obsessed when he finally meets his thirty-five year old band mate, Bill Walter’s, younger sister.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Drug use. Sexual content. Violence.

“10 Things I Hate About You”

“The Perks of Being A Disappointment”

Rodrick found that he very much liked holding hands. Especially Sara’s. He felt he looked better than ever that Monday morning, because her hand was in his.

“Ew. Look,” Heather Hills whispered, staring with her friends as they watched Rodrick and Sara coming down the hall. “The emus are dating.”

Sara just chuckled as Rodrick stood tall beside her, completely unaware. But he wouldn’t have had it any other way. His only focus was Sara, and the way her smile was something reserved mostly for him.

“Alright. I guess I gotta get to class,” Rodrick sighed, fully aware that he and Sara were already fifteen minutes late.

“Okay,” she sighed unenthusiastically, smiling as he gave her a quick peck on the lips as he leaned in the doorframe.

“Be good,” he teased.

“You first.”

“Never,” Rodrick promised, chuckling as he just stood there for a moment, admiring what was his.

“Sara, are we joining us for first period?” Mr. Emerson called in annoyance.

“In a minute, you old fart!” Rodrick yelled impatiently, peeved that someone had interrupted his state of bliss.

“Mr. Heffley, do I need to call administration?” the history teacher asked.

“No, Mr. Emerson,” Rodrick said quickly, looking back at Sara as he awkwardly scratched at his shaggy dark hair. “Go to the bathroom in ten minutes,” he mouthed.

Sara just smirked back at him as she entered the classroom, taking her seat by Lauren. Class that day went by faster than she’d anticipated, and before she knew it, Rodrick was walking her out, with his arm lazily thrown around her.

He had deemed it chivalrous to take care in walking Sara to and from all of her classes, conveniently giving him a reason to miss the first and last ten minutes or so of each of his own classes. Sara had just barely sat down in her elective psychology class before receiving a slip of paper from the office on her desk.

Sara squinted in confusion as she read it. Apparently, she had been checked out of school right at the beginning of second period by someone listed as “brother”. She didn’t question why Bill would check her out of school without telling her, so she collected her things and headed to the front office, not sure what to expect.

Sure enough, there was Bill Walter.

“Hey, Sar Bear,” her older brother smiled.

“Hey,” she nodded. “What’s up? Is everything okay?”

“More than okay,” he promised her as they walked out of the school together.

“What’s going on?”

“You’ll see,” he promised her excitedly.

Bill walked Sara down the street to where Rodrick’s van was parked, not saying a word. Sara was confused for a moment as she saw Rodrick leaning against the van, arms crossed before he hopped up.

“Hey, baby,” he said casually.

“What’s up?” Sara asked, not understanding.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Bill smiled, walking off to where his own car was parked.

She just looked at Rodrick, waiting for an explanation.

“I got Bill to check you out of school, so I could take you on our first date,” he smiled happily, seeming satisfied with himself.

“But, we’ve been on a date,” Sara pointed out. “And we go to the mall together.”

“This is something a lot better than the mall,” Rodrick promised her, making a point of it as he put on a dark pair of Ray Bans. “We’re going to the boardwalk.”

“Really?” she asked, surprised by the spontaneous gesture. “You’re cutting school? Again?”

“Yeah,” he scoffed nonchalantly, “I blocked the school on my mom’s phone. She’ll never know anyway.”

“Okay,” Sara grinned, throwing her arms around him as he smiled down at her. “So I have you for the whole day?”

“Definitely,” he said in a low tone, hands situated on her hips. “I’m all yours, beautiful,” he said in a cocky manner.

“Good,” she mumbled, kissing him on the lips.

He held her in arms as tightly as he could, making sure to wrap his arms all the way around her in a way that always made her feel safe.

“Hop in, sweetheart,” Rodrick teased her. “I’ll let you pick the music.”

Rodrick drove off as Sara sat blissfully in the front seat next to him, flipping through CD’s for a few minutes.

“Limp Bizkit?” she asked, holding up one of his CD’s.

“Whatever you want, princess. Today’s about you,” he responded affectionately as she popped it in.

The drive to Oceanside Pier would take about an hour, but Sara almost wished it would take longer just so she could sit in the passenger seat while Rodrick drove and talked to her. She felt like his world was centered around her whenever he would find special places to take her.

“You look really good sitting there like that, you know that?” Rodrick said a he watched her.

Her fair skin glowed golden like moonlight with the way sunlight poured in through the window.

“I think you forget how handsome you are,” she pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

She loved his shaggy hair and crooked smile like nothing else. Rodrick Heffley didn’t completely show it, but her words had an impact on him he couldn’t find the words to fully describe.

“You know, you have more personality than anybody I know. And it even shows on your face, and the way you look,” he stared in amazement. “Everything about you is just perfect. Just right,” he thought.

Sara thought for a moment, finding the compliment had a certain novelty to it. Her nose wrinkled in surprise as she tried to place her reaction.

“I always thought there was a lot wrong with my face,” she said softly.

This fact seemed appalling to Rodrick.

“What idiot made you think that?” he demanded.

“I don’t know. I just kind of accepted it as a fact. My teeth are kind of fucked. My eyes are hooded and uneven, and they have bags underneath. And my eyes are kind of droopy and dead,” she thought, seeming physically overwhelmed by the details as she spoke, as if not quite understanding.

“I think your eyes are one of the best things about you,” he said honestly. “And your smile’s the cutest thing ever.”

“Well. I think you feel about me the way I feel about you,” she stated.

“I hope so,” Rodrick expressed. “Because… I want you to be my girlfriend,” he concluded.

“You do?” Sara looked up at him.

“I do,” he nodded, completely serious. “Do you want that too?”

“Yes, I do,” she said without a second thought. “I think that would be perfect.”

He smiled at her, genuinely content with the world. When Rodrick and Sara frolicked around on the beach, after having bought swimsuits on the pier, he saw the whole world in her eyes. They were just brown, but to him, they reflected so much more.

In her eyes, he saw the same darkness he had in his own heart, and the same golden light he imagined pouring into his home through the windows ten years from then. Rodrick had never given growing up much thought, mostly because he thought he never wanted to do it.

But as he ran along the beach with Sara, and carried her in his arms in the water, he so badly wanted to fast forward and see if this, the lunacy of this dream, stood the test of time.

“Nobody has a voice like you,” Sara Walter said softly, as Rodrick heard their second joint in her voice.

They were sitting on a towel close to the water, but the few people who’d been somewhat close to them had cleared out because of the aromatic smoke. Rodrick chuckled lightly as he hit the joint with his sunglasses on, charmed by the sight of his girlfriend in her matching two-piece black and pink bikini.

“You think I could really sing if I wanted to?” Rodrick asked her.

The truth was, he heavily valued her opinion more than anyone else’s.

“Not necessarily sing. Scream, maybe,” she reasoned. “I think you have a voice that really rocks. You just have to find your style.”

“I think I want you onstage with me,” he expressed, passing the joint to her. “Like, background vocals, or something. I think someone like you could really take the band to a whole ‘nother level. Like, Amy Lee, or Lacey Sturm.”

“Please don’t compare me to Lacey Sturm,” Sara grimaced, taking a deep hit off the joint, “I don’t wanna fuck Jesus.”

“I have sandals on right now,” Rodrick pointed out in amusement. “Would that work?”

“Very funny,” she said to him with sarcastic approval.

“Do you ever think about dying?” Rodrick asked as she smoked while processing.

“What about it?” she questioned.

“Like, how you would wanna do it?” he asked awkwardly. “Or why you would wanna do it?”

“All the time,” Sara nodded. “I used to think about it a lot… I always thought I’d just OD, or something. Die young,” she offered her sentiments.

“Really?” Rodrick asked, seeming sad despite having the conversation on the sunny beach.

“Yeah… My family has a history of suicide,” she confessed. “My mom’s grandpa committed suicide. And my grandma; my dad’s mom. And my cousin, too.”

“Your cousin?” Rodrick said softly.

“Yeah. Bryan,” she nodded. “He was like my best friend growing up.”

“You told me about him,” he thought, remembering all the different stories. “You never told me he died.”

“Yeah. Shot himself a few years back,” Sara remembered. “He was seventeen.”

“I’m sorry,” Rodrick offered. “That… really, really sucks.”

“It does,” she agreed. “I didn’t understand it. I always thought, out of the two of us, it would’ve been me. He only smoked a little weed. I was the one who did all the drugs, even then… I wanted to go out like him. Young, and smarter than everybody. I wanted to go out on my own terms.”

“I think I know what you mean,” Rodrick thought. “I don’t…” he paused for a moment, seeming genuinely perturbed.

Sara watched him, wondering what was going on his mind.

“I don’t know what my life is for. I’m not smart, I’m not a good person. I’m not good at anything that matters.”

“Music matters,” she offered, not even able to process the inaccuracy of the other claims.

“Mine doesn’t,” Rodrick said spitefully. “I mean, my dad’s right; it’s not real music. We just bang on our instruments and scream about blood and shit, like, literal shit.”

“But that is real music,” Sara promised, sitting up in front of him. “If it means something, it’s real music. You think music has to be serious all the time? Look at Jim Morrison. Half of the time, he had no idea what the fuck he was talking about.

“And you saw what happened when Fred Durst and Jonathan Davis got together and recorded a song. That was the least serious shit I’ve ever heard. Think about the people that made you wanna make music; did their music not make you feel something? Did it not make you feel good?”

“You’re right, you know that?” he said after a moment.

“How many times have you turned on the radio and heard a piece of industry-planted garbage that’s full of buzzwords and bullshit just to appeal to as many people as possible? ‘Baby’, ‘love’, ‘girl’, ‘party’, ‘boy’, ‘beach’. That’s the shit that doesn’t deserve to be called music.”

“You’re so smart,” Rodrick sighed, overwhelmed by his feelings for her.

“You’re really something, Rodrick. You have passion, and talent, and you really are driven when you actually put your mind to something,” Sara remarked. “Anyone who really sees who you are could tell you that.”

“But, I don’t know what I even wanna do with my life,” he confessed. “Mom and Dad both say I gotta go to college, but what the fuck am I gonna do at college? I don’t read, I can’t pass tests, and I definitely don’t know how to be an adult.”

“I think once you find something, it’ll all fall into place,” she told him.

“But what am I gonna do?” he asked. “I’m not good at anything.”

“That’s not true. No one who really knows you would let you think that,” she frowned.

“Well, what do you think I’m good at?”

“You are good with music. Specifically working out the beat and music of a song… Like the composition. And, you don’t think you are, but you’re good at finding ways to look at things so that you can understand them,” she offered. “I saw you explaining stuff to Chris during practice.”

“See, this is why I love talking to you about stuff,” Rodrick sighed. “You really get me, and you really wanna help me.”

“I hope so,” she thought, looking him in the eyes as she hoped he would see what she saw in him.

“I think my mom would really like you,” he remarked.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, exhaling a heavy puff of smoke. “I’m just different than what she wants for you.”

“She wants someone who cares about me, and is a good influence on me,” he stated confidently. “That’s you.”

That evening, a while after had Sara went off to work, and Rodrick had returned home, the Heffley family was seated around their dinner table for a family meal. Frank’s day at work and Greg’s day at school had already been discussed, and Susan was rambling on about different people they knew, before Rodrick decided he had something to share with them.

“Hey, Mom?” he said as he got himself a second helping of mashed potatoes.

“Yes, Rodrick?” Susan looked up at him, pleasantly surprised to find that he was willingly speaking up during a family gathering.

“I, uh… I have a girlfriend now,” Rodrick smiled smugly.

“Huh. That’s my boy,” Frank offered him an extremely paternal smile, for once finding a reason to be proud of his eldest son.

“What?” she finally looked up at him through her glasses, eyes widened.

“Whoa, look outside!” Greg interrupted loudly, pointing out the window. “There’s pigs flying!”

“Shut it, smart ass!”

“After you, dumb ass,” Greg muttered.

“I’m sorry, what did you say, Rodrick?” Susan asked after a moment.”

“I said, I’m a changed man. I have a girlfriend now,” Rodrick grinned, proud of the one he had ended up with.

“Oh, that’s nice, who’s the lucky girl?” his mother asked pleasantly, seeming thrilled.

“Sara,” Rodrick told her, expecting that to be obvious.

“Sara, Bill’s sister, Sara?” she asked incredulously.

“Sara?” Frank Heffley blurted out, almost sounding startled. “The blonde girl?” his eyes widened as a smile spread across his face.

He was quickly met with a sharp nudge from his wife, who seemed less than enthusiastic about the new development now.

“Yeah,” Rodrick nodded, not understanding the reaction. “I’m with Sara.”

“But, why?” Susan asked him. “She’s so…”

She failed to come up with something acceptable.

“‘So’ what?” he asked defensively, seeming upset. “Sara’s what?”

“She’s just… not who I would’ve pictured you with, is all,” she tried to soften her demeanor.

“Mom, do you even know me at all?” Rodrick demanded, seeing the disappointed frown on her face. “I’m serious. Like, do you know what I like, or how I think?”

“Of course I know you! I gave birth to you! You’re my oldest son!” she exclaimed in shock. “That’s why I don’t want you to end up with someone you’d regret being with, is all.”

“How do you even know I’d regret it? You don’t know anything about her!” he cried. “You’ve met her once.”

“And I’m not assuming anything!” Susan assured him. “I just… want you to be careful, that’s all.”

“Yeah. Your mother doesn’t mean anything by it,” Frank attempted to mediate the situation.

“Okay,” Rodrick tested her, a suspicious look on his face. “Then, can I invite her to dinner tomorrow?”

Susan nearly choked on her food.

“But, the Bensons are coming over for dinner tomorrow,” she reminded him, her face even looking pale.

“You said I could have a friend over for dinner whenever I want,” he pointed out.

“No, I said you seem to have friends over for dinner whenever you want,” she chuckled as patiently as she could, patience clearly thinning.

“Honey, Sara seems like a nice girl. Sure, she’s Bill’s sister, and she looks a little edgy, but she seems nice enough,” Frank reasoned, stepping in. “She’s polite, and she says ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. That’s more than we can say for most of the other kids he’s had over. I’m just glad he found a girl he likes that doesn’t sell pot in an alley,” he justified simply.

“I don’t know…” Susan considered skeptically.

“Come on, Mom,” Rodrick sighed. “You don’t change your mind with Greg’s friends.”

“That’s because Greg’s friends don’t come from families with more teen pregnancies and suicides than college degrees,” she mumbled.

“Susan,” Frank looked at her in shock.

“Mom!”

Everyone realized that he seemed genuinely hurt.

“I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean it like that,” she sighed, realizing her mistake.

“What other way is there to mean it?!” Rodrick snapped at her. “You don’t say shit like that!”

His father remained completely silent for a moment, not sure at all how to deal with the topic. Even Manny started to seem uncomfortable at the dinner table, as Greg was also surprised to find he was on his brother’s side.

“That’s dark, Mom.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Susan gave in, “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just getting stressed out, with all this… It was a horrible thing, and I shouldn’t have said it. I take it back.”

“How did you even know that?” Rodrick questioned her, disregarding the apology.

Even he seemed to be just finding out about it.

“People talk,” she sighed, “One of the PTA moms has a sister who used to work with Bill and Sara’s mom. People talk about that family, and the things you hear aren’t exactly good. I just didn’t know if I wanted you hanging around a girl like that.”

“Why would people talk about that? It’s fucked,”Rodrick said in disgust.

“I know. And I shouldn’t encourage it,” Susan agreed.

“So, are you actually willing to give Sara a chance?”

“Yes, honey, of course,” she promised, mostly out of obligation and guilt.

“Congratulations, son,” Frank beamed, shifting the direction of the conversation, “On finally getting a girl.”

It seems that was all they really could’ve hoped for. Rodrick just smiled in more of an awkward grimace, not really feeling as good as he thought he would after their conversation.

-

Meet the Fuckers

#rodrick heffley #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick rules #rodrick x reader #doawk rodrick #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x y/n #devon bostick #rodrick fanfic

[greg-montgomery]

Ivy - Part 2

gif by: @ssahotstuff <3

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (Sean Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

Series summary: Your relationship with your boyfriend, Sean, is going great. Well, that is until you meet his older brother, Aaron.

Part 1

Warnings: this chapter is nsfw - 18+ (sexual fantasies & masturbation)

Minors DNI

Chapter summary: You visit Aaron's house to drop the book you had promised him.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Aaron Hotchner looked like a man that was born to be in a suit.

He stood tall and intimidating while wearing them; if you didn’t know he was the chief of his unit, you would have assumed it anyway.

Still you found yourself feeling stupid for being surprised to see him in jeans and a polo t-shirt when you visited him. Obviously he didn’t sleep with a tie around his throat. And it was a challenge for you not to stare at his exposed arms and neck. He was big and you liked it.

“Daddy, who is it?” you heard a kid's voice, and then the sound of little steps getting closer and closer.

“That’s Y/N,” Aaron smiled and placed his palm on the boy’s back. “Do you remember uncle Sean? She is his girlfriend.”

“Hi, Jack. Nice to meet you,” you waved at him and then bended your knees so you could lower yourself and talk to him eye to eye. “I have a few gifts for you,” you wiggled your eyebrows.

“Gifts?” his eyes grew wide.

You looked up to find Aaron staring at you. “Gifts?” he mouthed at you, just as surprised as his son.

He didn’t expect you to only bring Jack your book, did he?

You gave him a wink and returned your attention to Jack.

“Yes!” You handed him the bag you had carried with you. “Here, sweetie.”

Jack ran towards the couch so he could open his presents. Aaron urged you to follow him.

“You didn’t have to,” he said, walking next to you.

“No, I did. How else am I supposed to become his favorite aunt?”

“My aunt?” Jack asked, confused, having heard your conversation. “But aunt Jessica is my aunt.”

“You can have more than one, buddy,” Aaron explained to him.

Jack didn’t pay much attention to his words, though, taking a Spider-Man figure out of the bag. “Wow.”

You turned to look at Aaron, and stopped him before he said anything. “I just saw his birthday cake in that picture you showed me when you came for dinner. I figured he likes him.”

“He’s his favorite,” he replied, sweetly.

“Thank you so much, aunt Y/N!”

“Oh please, just call me Y/N,” you giggled. You weren’t that old yet.

The moment was interrupted by the ring of Aaron’s phone.

He excused himself, but returned next to you not even a minute later.

“Work,” he sighed. “I’m so sorry, I was planning on asking you to join us for the evening, but I have to go.”

“It’s alright,” you tried to comfort him with a smile. “New case?”

“Oh, no,” he shook his head. “Just paperwork that needs to be signed.”

“Jack,” he called out for his son. “Go get ready, I’m gonna drive you to aunt Jessica.”

“I can look after him,” you offered, before even thinking about it. This caught Aaron’s attention. “If it’s just paperwork,” you continued, “I’m assuming you won’t be gone for too long?”

“Yeah, it will only be for a couple of hours. But I don’t wanna ruin your Saturday night,” he said apologetically.

“Oh please, I have no other plans and Sean always works till very late on the weekends. Plus, it will be an opportunity for me to bond with my new nephew,” you grinned.

“Okay,” he offered you a soft smile. Something inside you told you that he didn’t give those smiles to just anyone.

“So should I go change or not?” Jack asked.

“Not. But I should,” Aaron said and disappeared to go put on one of those delicious suits of his. Watching him go, you raised your brow, as you noticed the one thing that the two brothers did have in common.

--

The only light in the living room was coming from the TV and the small lamp you had left on. Aaron walked towards the kitchen first, dropping a bag of take-out, and then made his way to the couch until he saw a blonde little head laying on your chest and your fingers brushing through his hair.

“Shh…” you said, bringing your finger to your lips to signal him to stay quiet. “He just fell asleep."

He couldn’t help but smile with affection for both of the individuals that were in front of him. The characteristics of your face weren’t clear in the dim light of the room, but they still made his heart beat faster.

It had been a while since the last time he had a pretty girl like you on his couch. But this wasn’t the setting or the circumstances for thoughts like this.

“I’ll take him,” he whispered and took Jack in his arms with almost no effort at all. “I’ll be back in a second.”

“I was right, after all,” you told him when he was back from Jack’s room.

“About what?”

“That Jack adores you,” you said, putting on your shoes. “You’re his favorite hero. Not Spider-Man.”

That earned you a genuine, happy smile from him.

“He was all Daddy this, Daddy that,” you laughed. “And he’s such a sweetheart, God…I don’t think I’ve met a sweeter kid in my life. You’re doing a great job with him.”

“That means a lot to me.”

You nodded your head, not another word needed for the two of you to communicate.

He escorted you to the door, but the moment you reached out to touch the handle you decided to turn around and face him.

“Are you hungry?”

“Are you hungry?” you both asked at the same time, and ended up laughing.

“I brought some take-out-”

“I made a few sand-”

The two of you talking over each other made you giggle again.

“You first,” he offered.

“Jack was hungry earlier and asked me if I could make him a sandwich. I made a few extra because I figured you would come home hungry too.”

He smiled. “Well you were right on point. I brought us burgers,” he announced, proudly.

“Nice,” you grinned.

“Come on,” he signaled you to follow him in the kitchen.

- -

The conversation was flowing even smoother than the first dinner you had together. This one felt more casual, which made it feel more intimate.

Something about coming home from work to a nice late night chat with a person who could so effortlessly make him smile, giggling over stupid jokes and having shitty burgers, made him feel emotions he had deeply missed.

“I haven’t asked you the most obvious question yet.”

“What is it?” you said, intrigued.

“How did you meet with Sean?”

“Well…I was having a girls' night with one of my friends. Sean was out with his best friend and the guy took one look at my friend and decided she was his future wife.”

“Oh…” he said, making it obvious that this was not the way he expected your story to begin.

“So in order for his friend to make a move on my friend, Sean had to distract me!” you giggled. “I guess in the process he found himself actually liking me. So here we are.”

“Are your friends still together?” Aaron asked.

“Nope. But they’re kinda best friends now? Through us...”

“Well that’s a happy ending to the story,” he smiled.

“I guess,” you said, giving him a smile back that he wasn’t so sure it was genuine.

“Ah…young love,” he sang and he made you laugh a bit loud so you covered you mouth with your hands so you wouldn’t wake up Jack.

“Stop talking like you’re eighty years old,” you teased him.

“I might not be eighty,“ he laughed, “but I’m quite older than you and Sean.”

“Well it doesn’t matter, you know about young love better than anyone,” you said and he could tell you immediately regretted it.

Before he had the chance to reassure you that it was okay, you spoke again.

“I’m sorry. Sean has told me, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” you apologized.

“It’s alright,” he smiled, hoping it would comfort you. “I don’t mind talking about her.”

“Well then, now it’s my turn to ask. How did the two of you get together?”

“I joined a school play to be close to her.”

“Stop!” you whisper-yelled. “Tell me everything.”

So he told you the story. And because you were there with your beautiful smile, urging him to keep going, it didn’t hurt to say it anymore.

--

You had been tossing and turning for what felt like hours and you still couldn’t sleep. You reached out for your phone to check the time. ‘2 am’

Under the digits, there was a notification from your boyfriend.  “I love you too <3” was the message. You had checked up on him before you went to bed. It wasn’t a secret that he was struggling with money, but you didn’t want him to overwork himself. Still, he wasn’t home yet.

You opened your messages to respond to him with a heart and you couldn’t help but open your last texts with Aaron. He had asked you to text him once you got home. So you laid there, smiling like an idiot, rereading your recent messages.

You: I’m home! No one kidnapped me :)

Aaron: And what if this is your kidnapper texting me?

You: Wouldn’t I be asking you for money instead?

Aaron: Maybe you’re trying to throw me off.

You: You’re the FBI you should know if it’s me or not smh…

Aaron: What’s smh?

You: Never mind

After that text there was a selfie of you where your face could barely be seen, but was evidence that you were alive.

You knew he didn’t actually think you were kidnapped, but you wanted to run with the joke.

Aaron: Fine I’m convinced...Good night, Y/N.

Aaron: And nice pajamas.

Why did a compliment he made as a joke had you giggling like a teenager, just like the way it did the first time you read it?

You: Don’t make fun. Good night :)

That had been the last message between you two. You closed the app and put your phone back on the nightstand.

The smile on your face faded and boredom creeped up again.

You shifted between the sheets so you could stare at the ceiling. “I’m so bored,” you complained to no one.

Lowering your gaze to look at your body, you did get an idea on how to pass the time. Your legs fell open a second later and your hand travelled down to your panties.

“Ah…” you sighed. It felt sensitive, since Sean hadn’t touched you at all that week.

Closing your eyes you tried to fantasize about Sean’s head between your legs. You always loved when he ate you out.

“Mmm…” you softly rubbed your clit, but the fantasy started to shift without your will. The hair of the man between your legs wasn’t blonde anymore but black.

“Oh God,” you whined, just the thought of Aaron turning you on more than ever.

You needed more, so you quickly grabbed a pillow and placed it underneath you so you could rub yourself on it.

It was so wrong to think of him in a moment like this, but it also felt so good; too good to stop yourself. So instead you let your head fall back in pleasure as you humped your pillow and surrendered to the fantasy.

He was probably so used to giving orders at his job, would he be that way in bed too?

Would he let you go down on him, if you asked? Maybe he’d let you do it while he was in his office. You’d hide under his desk so if someone walked in, they would see the usual serious expression of Aaron Hotchner, not knowing he was getting his dick sucked.

You’d be dripping, but he wouldn’t let you touch yourself. You would obey and he’d praise you, calling you his good girl; his large hand pushing your head further down his cock.

“Aaron,” you moaned, and squeezed the pillow between your legs as you came.

You should’ve been feeling guilty, but that night you went to sleep with a satisfied smile on your face.

Part 3

ivy tag list: @preciousbabypeter @buckysmainhxe @galaxyofmyown @ssamorganhotchner @romanogersendgame @elhotchner @louderfortheback @northschild

#aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #sean hotchner x reader #hotch 🪐 #nsfw. #if y’all knew the circumstances i wrote this under 💀 but anyway akshksjs that’s a story for another day #ivy

[that-ari-blogger]

Medusa, A Myth Set In Stone?

CW: Mention of sexual assault.

Medusa is possibly the single most iconic monster from Ancient Greek Mythology. To the point where if you are writing a story drawing from that history, you need to namedrop her at least once. Stray Gods: The Role Playing Musical includes her as a character, although that's actually a confusing addition.

Stray Gods is about family, and trauma, and choice, and Medusa doesn't have a direct link to that. Does she? We'll get back to this.

Medusa's mythology is varied, and adaptations pick and choose elements to include. So, this post will take a look at how Stray Gods goes about adapting her to fit its themes and narrative. But I'd like to examine the musical in comparison to another take on the character that I found fascinating. One Piece, and Boa Hancock.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD

The first thing to point out about Medusa is that she's not a historical figure, she's a mythological one. So there is no exact character to draw on. Also, because Ancient Greece was such a diverse place, the myth has also diversified.

So, lets start with what we know. Medusa has snakes for hair. Well... no. In his Theogony, Hesiod described her and her sisters as women with snakes hanging from their belts.

She had sisters? Yes. Two of them. They were all the daughters of Phorcys and Ceto, both primordial sea deities.

I've found references to older stories in which she couldn't petrify people, only kill them. But these references are dubious and do not cite their sources. Which is frustrating.

This all leads to Ovid, who wrote Metamorphoses. And before I explain his take on this, I need to point out his biases. Ovid was a Roman poet who lived until the 1st century AD (notably seven centuries after Medusa's first reference), and he was exiled from Rome during the writing of his most famous work, according to Britanica.

As such, Metamorphoses has a tendency to either embellish or completely make up features of stories, as well as being noticeably anti-authoritarian and anti-deity. The gods in Metamorphosis are more callous than usual. For example, this is the book in which the usually level-headed Athena turns a lady into a spider, simply for addressing Zeus' infidelity.

The point is: In my opinion, Ovid seems to have gone out of his way to make the gods and goddesses of ancient Greek mythology seem as cruel and impersonal as possible.

Which finally leads us to Medusa. In Ovid's tale, Medusa is a beautiful woman who earns the attention of Poseidon who sexually assaults her in Athena's temple. Athena then decides to punish Medusa for this and transforms her into the snake haired monster that the modern world recognises.

Later interpretations have pretty much used this story, but with one majour adjustment brought on by poet Percy Shelley's On The Medusa Of Leonardo DaVinci in the Florentine Gallery. The transformation by Athena becomes a blessing, not a curse. Athena bestowed upon Medusa a way of protecting herself. As Dr Emily Zarka put it in the youtube video, Medusa, Victim Or Villain?:

"A creature that could literally turn the leering male gaze back on itself."

Boa Hancock is one of the most interesting characters in One Piece who isn't a Strawhat. There is so much going on with her character that I can't mention here because this is meant to be a post about Stray Gods. If you want a full breakdown of the character, @melonteee has a fantastic video on the subject, that I would highly recommend.

In essence, Boa is a victim. She was forced to eat the devil fruit for the entertainment of the world government, so now she has a distrust of men and an ability to turn people to stone. The medusa references in her story are not subtle, and the allegory inherent in being forced to eat the fruit is rather blatant.

The interesting thing about Boa is how she is introduced. Boa is initially shown as a terrible human being. She kicks a small animal for the fun of it, because she is evil, and because she can get away with it. People look at her and just see her beauty, and they expect things of her. They don't care to look at the story or the character or the trauma, it's just the beauty. People within One Piece do this, and an uncomfortable amount of people who read or watch it have the same view of her.

Boa is a protector, Amazon Lilly is her home, and she protects it from shame, and from trauma. She protects her people from having to bear the same scars as her, physically and psychologically.

That's why she acts the way she does and dresses the way she does, its a mask to draw attention, to scare people away. Like Medusa, she weaponises the idolisation of beauty in order to protect.

Contrast this with Stray Gods, and the Medusa portrayed by Anjali Bhimani. And we see a remarkably similar take on the character.

This is a character with a level of self-loathing that render the entirety of the rest of the cast egomaniacal, but that is almost hidden by a veneer of confidence.

Medusa slithers as she walks. She gets close to Grace and in her face, she's revelling in her power. But the second Grace pushes the right buttons, that entire demeanour changes. Those buttons being two words: Monster and Athena.

This is why Medusa is in the story. Because the relationship between her and Athena is, at least in my reading, analogous to an abusive parent and child dynamic. Athena professes to protect Medusa, but she is the reason Medusa is the way she is, she controls Medusa's every move, and Medusa fears what might happen if Athena would find out about her actions.

I said Medusa and Boa are similar, and I meant it. Both put up a facade of confidence as a means of defence. And when that facade cracks, then we see what that character truly is.

"Don't look at me"

Medusa couldn't be further from her facade. That's what this line signifies, the transition from "look into me" to "don't look at me" shows in no uncertain terms the breaking away of that mask. Although it does come back for a brief moment, in a fascinating way.

"You're lost little girl, no more Hail Mary's"

This is a repeated line in the musical, the idea of being directionless. We keep hearing it, in variations of the same tune. And now we hear Medusa say it. But there's two things going on here.

First up, this is projecting, Medusa is lost, and she is shifting the blame for that onto Grace.

Second, this is just what others have said. Medusa is simply repeating what she has heard and has no defence of her own.

"The "not unhot" girl is you, the monster is me"

Medusa is clutching onto her idea of self, she has to be the monster, because otherwise everything Athena did to her was unwarranted. She has to have deserved it, right? She's rationalising, and projecting, and avoiding.

I've seen people do this in real life.

The mirror is a fascinating little detail here. The visual focus of a large portion of this song is the flipping between who is in the mirror and who is on the outside. Because the two characters are trying to connect, and they are mirrors of each other as victims of Athena's meddling.

The wording of Grace's offer here is interesting.

"Appollo could get you free"

Not cure or fix, but free. That's what Medusa needs, freedom.

In conclusion, Medusa is a monster and Medusa is also a woman and a victim and many other things. Those who say a story must abide by the canon of mythology don't understand mythology at all. There is no canon. Sure, stick to the spirit of the myth, don't make the minotaur into a bird, but a character like Medusa can be anything, and adapting the myth isn't remotely a new thing. Ovid did it, One Piece did it, and Stray Gods has done it. All of them taking a different part of the myth and creating a story out of it for their own purposes.

I am excited to see who tries their hand at it next.

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