#and I’ve never seen this one before???? so that’s fun too. anyways obviously no pressure to any of the ppl tagged

[taketheringtolohac]

ok time for another tag game I was tagged by @comfit to do this picrew for me and a current blorbo but I couldn’t decide on one so I did two

Lord knows I don’t know how to make these all the same size. So enjoy them at this size. I would say who they are but like. Tbh if you are following me and don’t know at this point I am deeply impressed and we should keep it that way.

Anyways. I’ll tag @laevateinn @vonkarmic @aramanna @tenmyoujump @dullahandyke @littlelatinboyindragv @solphy and anyone else who wants to do this!

[pineapple-lover-boy]

Can- can I just talk about the Victuuri relationship? Pretty please?

I just…. I’ve never seen a healthy relationship that starts from idolization and a need to get out that has ended in a satisfying way.

Let me elaborate:

We all know that Yuri idolized Victor. It’s why he was so nervous in the beginning and why it took time for them to build on their relationship, he saw Victor as a god.

Victor? He was depressed. He loved the ice so much but he longer found excitement in competitions. He didn’t have any worthy opponents that had a chance of beating him (sorry Chris).

I believe Victor “fell in love” at the banquet. He was attracted to Yuri but, even though he lost, he also saw potential in him. That night was probably the most exciting night for him in a long time. I think he felt genuine affection for Yuri but also saw a way to get out of his predicament.

Then, of course, Yuri didn’t show up the following season (a year had passed before the present timeline). He was most likely annoyed that someone who had gave him excitement didn’t show up. Did he think Yuri had a chance of beating him at first? Probably not. Did he see potential or at least someone he could have fun with during the season? Hell yes!

And then when he saw the video of Yuri skating Stay Close To Me, something that awarded him a gold medal. That’s all he needed. He saw how Yuri not only skated it perfectly but I bet he thought Yuri skated it better. Let’s not forget that emotion is a huge part of skating. If you don’t skate with the passion your supposed to hold for whatever theme you have, your performance can almost seem futile. Victor obviously won because he perfected it but if it was based on how he presented it alone, he would’ve lost. He saw someone worthy of skating an gold medal piece while also having the heart to do it. That’s talent.

Anyways, because of this, their relationship doesn’t hold well in the beginning. He’s passive aggressive towards Yuri because he doesn’t see his own talent and Yuri is just going along for the ride because holy shit it’s Victor fucking Nikiforov.

As they get to know each other and Yuri opens up more (plus Victor getting info on Yuri from the others) Victor starts to see Yuri as an actual person and not someone he can use to project himself onto and then later skate against. And Yuri starts to see him as an actual person too.

I saw on another post talking about how we didn’t see them during the summer and how the end credits of every episode suggest they got to know each other better as both in the credits and in the show they (Yuri) are able to touch each other more. I 100% believe this.

I also believe they might’ve had an argument or two on this topic. It’s not easy to switch from inadvertently seeing someone as anything but a person to an actual person with emotions and feelings. I believe Victor would’ve tried to back away from this subject but Yuri wouldn’t let him. It wasn’t big arguments like in episode 7. It was probably little quarrels that annoyed them both but after having a long conversation they finally started to become more comfortable with each other.

Yuri started letting go of the notion that Victor was a god like creature and Victor saw him as something other than a pawn. Yuri stopped getting as embarrassed with Victor touching him and Victor stopped trying to seduce him as much just so he could see the man from the banquet.

This most definitely leads the way towards a healthier relationship but episode 7 was inevitable. Yuri’s anxiety was at an all time high when he comes out on top. The fact that he needs to stay on top and not mess up is getting to him. As a person with anxiety, it’s pure hell. The thoughts of failing won’t get out of his head and even as he turns off all the monitors he can still hear everything.

Victor takes him away from prying eyes and has no idea what to do. Despite an obvious change that would’ve had to include some emotions from both occurring over the summer, he still has no idea how to help someone in distress.

Then he makes his first mistake. Yuri is visibly shaken by someone’s scores (can’t remember who) and Victor, who is at his wits end, yells at him to stop listening and puts his hands over Yuri’s ears. This tells Yuri how nervous Victor is too and despite knowing that Victor wouldn’t leave him now it shows to him that Victor doesn’t have faith in him (even if he does).

Victor tried to shatter Yuri’s heart. He must’ve expected Yuri to maybe sign heavily but tell him that he’ll do everything in his power to win (probably something that’s happened with him and Yakov). Instead he see’s the consequences of his carelessness. Yuri rightfully lashes out at him and even through all that Victor stills says “should I kiss you?”. Idk what Yuri was thinking but if I were him I would be extremely offended that Victor would try and use me like some doll he can play with and can assume that physical affection and love can fix everything, which was probably what Yuri was thinking.

There’s something off about Yuri and Victor when they emerge but Yuri is surprisingly better now. Cathartic crying can do wonders, kids. There’s also my favorite part of the entire show (couldn’t find a gif):

*head jab* “Hey, fuck you.”

*more head jabs* “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. I know you don’t like this you unempathetic dicknip.”

*head pat* “You’re forgiven.”

We all know what happens next: Yuri ends his love story with Victor’s signature move and Victor kisses him out of joy and the need to one up him (with love, of course).

I’m gonna get a little sloppy here with the timeline because I have the memory of a female protagonist that needs to go back to work to get something only to accidentally bump into the jerk CEO of which she will develop a toxic relationship for fan service, so forgive me.

Gonna skip ahead to the scene where Yuri tells Victor that he’s leaving skating, and basically Victor too. (At this moment I realized I’ve been spelling Viktor with a c and not a k which is really fucking with my brain but it’s too late to go back). Victor starts crying and realizes just how Yuri felt when he was rejecting him.

I believe Yuri found some light in the situation because of that fact, which Victor was not having. They’ve been closer than ever now. They’ve kissed, they’ve also announced they they’re getting married, so what the hell?!

Yuri, as we know, feels he’s keeping Victor from the ice. Victor, while he misses the ice and wouldn’t mind being competitive again, has found meaning and if he’s going to be Yuri’s coach to stay where he is than so be it.

He wanted to coach Yuri because he wanted a worthy competitor and while he still wants that, what matters most now is his relationship with Yuri. If he stops being Yuri’s coach and Yuri goes off the ice he knows it will be the end. Yuri loves the ice too and I’d bet he’d try to distance himself from Victor as to not feel regret from leaving without actually knowing that he’s doing it.

They’ve grown so much at this point. But that doesn’t mean it’s over. After all they’ve been through Yuri doesn’t realize that consequences of parting from one another. While being too dependent on your spouse isn’t good, it’s what they both need right now. They are what caused the other person to be happy again and while I hate those types of storylines this one executed it perfectly.

I find Victor’s silent plea to Yurio absolutely heartbreaking. He knows it’s bad to put pressure on people but now he’s doing that to a 15 year old boy. He’s putting his relationship and his life into this child’s hands because he knows there’s nothing else he can do.

I do think Yurio had a crush on Yuri but even if he didn’t: Yuri has taught him so much. He, although being an ass most of the time, has really come to love Yuri as family. It’s clear that Yurio was always lonely (Otabek being his first friend and all) but once he came to Japan and lived, truly lived there, he wasn’t lonely anymore.

Yurio wins, Yuri gets silver and all’s well that ends well.

I guess my point of this was to show how well the relationship in YOI was. I could’ve included some more detail on some points but I usually write stuff in one take (it’s very hard to revise without my mind shutting on itself).

I just love how an implicitly toxic relationship can come out so healthy. They don’t do any of that miscommunication bullshit and when they do it’s because the characters don’t know what to do or how to handle something. Like humans do!

They could’ve easily made this the hot famous guy thinks the kawai girl boy is just so adorable and the kawai girl boy is absolutely infatuated with the hot guy. Hijinks ensue which includes the kawai girl boy thinking the hot guy is in love with someone else. She He gets pushed into thinking that she’s he’s more independent in the end and happily ever after for the couple that will divorce in less than five years! Yay!

Seriously, I thought that was what was going to happen but YOI subverted my expectations so much. They are people that grew from their bad mindsets. And you know what? Yuri still has anxiety! Victor is still bad with handling emotions! And that’s ok! We don’t change that quickly. It takes time and hopefully another season.

I’m definitely using this show as a template for healthy relationships. It’s so hard for me to properly write them when I’ve never been in one and I’m not given the chance to see it happen in different environments (when searching it up all I get is “they trust each other. They blame each other. They’re compassionate.” Like ok but can you show me how?)

Yuri!!! On ice…. I love you so much. You have done so much for my mental health and my writing. Thank you.

[harryspet]

off to the races (2) s.rogers

[Warnings] dark!steve rogers x reader, stripper!reader, ddlg, daddy!steve, abduction/kidnapping, mafia boss steve, bondage, a hint of peter x reader, toxic/abusive relationship, hella angst, little editing 

A/N: im mentally shutting down because of school but at least i have mob!steve :)

In which you don’t want to be Daddy’s secret anymore.

word count: 3.5k

main masterlist

taglist: @cherienymphe @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckysbunny @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mischiefmanaged011 @visintaes​  @disaster-rose​​ @sexyxseabassx​ @marvelmaree​

“Woah, dude, your room is awesome. Awe, you have all the good movies. I haven’t seen The Jungle Book in forever!” 

“Peter, look!” You waved him over to the window, ignoring his astonishment for the paradise Steve had created for you. Peter stood there dumbly for a moment before walking over to the window beside your bed. 

You heard the loud whirring of helicopter spinning blades echoing through the room even with the window closed. It was landing in the field behind the manor and you were questioning why Steve was making such a grand entrance today. You’d been stuck in this house for three weeks now and nothing this exciting had happened yet, “Who’s helicopter is that?” You looked back at Peter who’d crossed his arm nervously. 

“Uhm … probably … maybe-” You scoffed, before looking back at the view. The helicopter was a sleek, black color and, as you narrowed, your eyes could make out some words written in gold. 

“Stuh …. Stark …. Industries. Stark Industries,” You were calm as you took in the info before the realization hit you, “Stark Industries! Is Tony Stark here? Holy …. pancakes.”

Peter smiled, seemingly amused by your excitement, “Pancakes?”

“Steve doesn’t like it when I-” You stopped yourself from explaining, realizing there was a bigger situation at hand, “We have to go check things out. Get a closer look!”

“No way,” Peter shook his head, “I’m here to make sure you stay in this room.”

You rolled your eyes, “So Tony Stark must be here then, right?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that,” Peter pressed his lips together like he was struggling to hold in all the secrets he knew. 

“How the hell does Steve know Tony Stark? Stark is dirty too? I should’ve known … flipping rich people.”

“Flipping?”

You took a step toward him and despite the fact you were wearing a pair of fairy wings, he still seemed intimidated by you, “What do you want, huh? A raise?”

“Uhm … I don’t think you can do that … can you?”

“Of course I can. Steve is wrapped around my finger.”

Peter cocked an eyebrow, “But he’s Steve Rogers …”

“Look around this room for goodness sake! He does anything I want. If I tell him all about how you’re a great worker, how you’re a good friend to me, he’ll surely be appreciative. Might even give you a promotion and maybe you won't have to play babysitter anymore.”

He considers it just for a moment, “If he does anything you want then why are you locked in this house?”

“Fine, fine, so I don’t have complete control but I have some. I could be helpful to you in the future!” 

“Y/N, if something went wrong he’d probably chop me up into little pieces and send them to my Aunt. Or he’d chop up my aunt and make me watch … depends on the kinda mood he’s in.”

You stared back at him, trying not to let the look on your face falter, “ … I’ll give you my movie collection?” 

“I’m sorry but-”

“It’s my birthday soon?”

“I can’t,” Peter stated, sighing, “I’ve got pressure on me right now, and things have to go right tonight. It’s like a huge deal. I never get to go to stuff and the party is-” He stopped his rambling when he realized he’d said too much. 

“Party?” Peter opened his mouth and closed it again. He turned away from you, eyes wide, and made his way to the door. Of course, you chased after him, placing yourself between him and the door, “What party?”

“Please move,” Peter begged, “I really can’t talk about it.”

“I won’t say anything, I promise!” You were the one begging now, “He doesn’t tell me anything at all. Can you imagine how I’m feeling? I’ll do everything you say, I won’t try anything, I just want to know what's going on …. please?”

“Steve can’t know,” You nodded eagerly and he finally gave in, probably because of your spectacular puppy dog eyes, “Tony Stark is having a party tonight, that’s where Steve���s going, and most of us are going to. A pretty important deal is happening.”

“Why doesn’t Steve want me to go?” You frowned a bit.

“I don’t think he wants anybody to know about you, to keep you safe, that kind of thing.”

“Right,” You nodded, “Even if I go crazy while he does that.”

Peter looked sympathetic, “I’m sorry.”

“I know this thing with me and Steve is not ordinary but is it crazy of me to not want to be a secret? Even after everything …”

You could tell Peter wasn’t expecting a deep question nor did he expect you’d confide in him, “I don’t think so,” Peter was trying to understand, you could see it in his eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck as if he wasn’t sure, “Obviously … you - uhm - care about him. I wouldn’t want to be the secret of someone I care about.”

He was taken aback when you suddenly hugged him. Unsure if he could hug you back, he awkwardly patted your shoulder which made you giggle, “Can I paint your nails?”

“What? No.”

“I have colors that aren’t girly.” “Hmm … can you do cool stuff like the shapes and sparkles?”

“Of course,” You smiled, “Step into my salon.”

+

“I didn’t get my sticker this week,” You bounced back from your toes to your heels, watching Steve as he got ready in his closet. He was fixing his tie in the mirror, making sure it was absolutely perfect, along with the rest of the look. Freshly trimmed beard and an aftershave that smells intoxicating. He smelt like money and looked like it too. That’s probably exactly how you would want to look in front of Tony Stark. 

“You skipped dinner two days in a row, doll.”

You were frowning but it wasn’t like he was focused on you anyways, “But I did better after that,” You whined.

“I know, baby, you can try again next week.”

“Maybe if you were here then I wouldn’t have missed it,” You whispered, playing with your fingernails, “But I’m stuck here and you get to go out and have your fun.”

“Have my fun?” He questioned, buttoning up his jacket. 

“You get home so late … I’m sure you go to your clubs, booze it up and talk to girls.”

He chuckled a bit, “You think I’m flirting with other women?”

“I don’t think, I know,” You leaned against the doorway, “You’re a guy, aren’t you? That’s what you do.”

He finally turned to you, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. He was as handsome as ever, like a movie star, “Doll, my days are long because I’m traveling from here to the city every day. I want to fall asleep and wake up with you. There isn’t and never will be anyone who I’d rather do that with.” 

As he came closer, you knew he was going to lift you into his arms. Ever since he took you from the club and you sobbed into his shoulders, you’d find solace in his arms. Even if his hands were causing your hurting, they still felt warm and loving, “You don’t mean that,” You whispered, muffled against his shoulder. 

“What can I do to prove it to you?”

“Take me with you,” You said and you felt him stiffen. 

“It’s not safe,” He tried to explain. 

“Are you embarrassed by me?” 

“No, no,” He rushed out, carrying you out of the closet and into the bedroom. “Why would you even ask that?”

“Because of what I do, what I used to do-”

“No, Y/N. I’ve never felt that way,” His tone was more concerned that it ever had been before, “Look at me, please?”

Begrudgingly, you lifted your head. You hated that you were feeling jealous or inadequate, “You took care of yourself all these years and I know you still can,” He continued, “Let me protect you now.”

“I’m not a baby.”

Steve could sense the small bit of pride still left in you and decided not to push you on it anymore, “Could’ve fooled me,” Steve smiled slightly, bouncing you in his arms, “Let me tuck you in, grumpy.”

“The sun just set!” 

“It wasn’t actually a request,” He was already carrying you away. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” You resisted, “Can I sleep in here? I’ll go to sleep right away, I promise.”Steve stopped, thinking it over for a moment, “I like that the … sheets smell like you, Daddy,” You added, knowing that was what he wanted to hear. It wasn’t fully a lie but you had other motives for not wanting to go back to your room. For one, your room locked from the outside and his didn’t. Besides that, you were almost sure that one of your stuffed bears had a camera inside its eye. 

Steve tucked you into his california king-sized bed that night and watched you fall asleep until it was time for him to go. You felt the kiss he pressed to your forehead and, for a brief moment, you thought about changing your plans. 

That feeling didn’t last long. 

+

For such an expensive car, you thought your ride would be a lot smoother and much more comfortable. Turns out, hiding in any trunk, no matter how luxurious, behind big boxes of unknown items, was not a pleasant experience. An hour into the drive, you finally decided that you’d had enough and you needed to get the feeling back into your limbs. Besides that, you needed to check and make sure that your hair and makeup stayed in place. 

When you climbed over the seat from the trunk to the backseat, the car instantly swerved before the driver corrected its path, “Y/N, holy shit!” Peter shouted, obviously frightened out of his mind but you were focused on making sure all the layers of your dress made it safely back into their places, “What the fuck? What the actual fuck?”

“Oh, calm down,” You said, looking at him through the rearview, “Just keep driving.”

“Are you out of your mind? If Steve sees you he’s going flip his shit!” 

“Peter, you okay in there, kid?” You heard Bucky’s staticky voice over Peter’s radio. The younger man picked it up and answered, his eyes still focused on you. 

You placed a finger over your lips and Peter gave you a death stare, “Yeah, I’m fine … I thought I saw a squirrel.”

A caravan of three cars surrounded Steve’s car as they all drove down this dark, winding road that you assumed would lead to Tony Stark’s mansion, “Did you not comprehend a single word I said?” Peter shouted, “Do you want me to get killed?”

“This is my problem,” You said, “Steve will know that you had nothing to do with it, I promise. But tonight is going to go super well so it won’t even matter. Steve is going to see me and realize he’s crazy not to show me off and then we’re going to go to the party and I’m going to charm everyone with my personality which is going to make him a ton of friends and even more money. Everyone wins.”

Peter was shaking his head the entire time as he listened to your rambling,  “Y/N, I understand that you want to be more to Steve and you don’t want to be in the dark but this isn’t the way! This isn��t some charity event or some art gala, these are dangerous people.”

“But Tony Stark-”

“Is as dirty as it gets,” Your heart began to race a bit, “And Steve cannot just let everyone know his biggest weakness, even if they are his allies.”

His biggest weakness. 

Suddenly, your mind was racing with thoughts of moments with Steve. Meeting him, going on your first dates, the hotel meetings, and the passionate kisses that always left you feeling like he felt more about you than he admitted. You never saw yourself as his weakness. 

I want to fall asleep and wake up next to you. 

When you snapped out of your trance, Peter had his walkie-talkie pressed to his chin, “Guys, uhm, we have a stowaway,” You slumped back in your seat, and when the car eventually came to a stop, you wished you were still tucked away in Steve’s bed. You think Peter was calling your name, probably apologizing and telling you how he had to follow orders but, honestly, you had tuned him out, “I-I don’t know …. I thought I checked everything …”

Your dress was adorable too, covered in pastels, while still remaining elegant. You imagined Steve's heart with flutter at the sight of you, instead, he was fuming. He was always so stoic, so full of composure, that the change frightened you. He grabbed you roughly by your upper arm, pulling you from the backseat, and slamming the door shut. Pressed against the car, you looked into those blue-green eyes that were anything except nice. 

“I didn’t mean to for all this,” Was all you could muster up the courage to say, “I just wanted to come with you-”

He shushed you before you got your words out, “We’ll talk about it later.”

You wished he would just yell at you now. He could bend you over right now and you’d prefer that over his silence and the obvious disappointment in his tone, “Later? But-” He pulled you away from the car and you stumbled in your heels as he pulled you along the dark road. 

He brought you towards the last car in the caravan and Sam stepped out from behind it, closing the trunk, before handing something shiny to Steve, “What are you doing?” You asked shakily, the cold wind of the night blowing your dress. 

“Turn around, face the car,” He ordered you and you feared whatever punishment you were about to receive would be worse if you disobeyed him. Slowly, you turned around and he wasted no time grabbing your wrist. You heard the metal click of handcuffs as they tightened around your wrist. You felt his strong hands on your waist and, as he lifted your dress, you assumed the worst. Your panties slipped down and as Steve lowered himself with them. 

“Steve, please talk to me?”

To your surprise, as you stepped out of your underwear, you felt the click of metal around your ankles. When he stood back up, he grabbed your arm again, pulling you back so you were pressed against his chest, “Daddy will deal with you later,” His breath against your ear sent shivers down your spine, “Don’t worry, doll … open your mouth.”

“If you just let me explain-”

You weren’t sure why you even wanted to. He left your brain scrambled and wondering why you even did the things that you did. 

“I won’t ask you again.”

Your lips parted and you realized he was forcing your panties into your mouth. The next thing that you knew, you were lying in the back seat of that car, your wrist hogtied to your ankles. And you thought sitting in the trunk would be uncomfortable. You were struggling and calling out for him and, as you expected, you were ignored. 

“Get her back as fast as you can. I’ll keep things short with Stark,” Were the last words you heard before the door shut close and all your screaming was muffled. 

+

You weren’t sure at which point you’d fallen asleep. As you laid there tied up, you thought a lot about him since there was nothing else to think about. You weren’t sure how he could love you and be so cruel at the same time.  

That next morning, you awoke to sore limbs and makeup staining your pillow. Even though the car ride back was hell, you knew your punishment wasn’t over. You debated even getting out of bed, knowing what was to come. 

You finally mustered the energy to clean yourself up, washing your face, and brushing your teeth. When you stepped back into your room, you were taken aback by what was sitting in the middle of your room. A giant, life-size brown bear was happily perched before your bed, holding balloons and a Tiffany’s gift bag. 

It was exactly the opposite of what you were expecting today. You approached it cautiously, decided to sit and open up the present. You handled the bag carefully, finding an elegant white card sitting inside. 

For my favorite girl on her birthday.

Love, Daddy. 

You sighed, knowing he probably picked all of this out before you betrayed him and probably ruined any sort of trust he had between you. You hadn’t even realized it was your birthday which was probably due to the fact that you had no phone or any contact with the outside world. There was also a jewelry box inside, a gorgeous, rose-gold tennis bracelet inside. 

As you snapped it around your wrist, covering your bruises, you promised not to ask how much it cost. It would probably make you feel even worse about yesterday. 

You finished getting dressed, deciding to head downstairs for breakfast. You found Steve sitting at a table out by the pool, reading through a newspaper like a grandpa. It seemed like he was expecting you because there were pancakes and eggs waiting on the table, “Morning,” You greeted awkwardly. 

“Good morning, doll. Happy Birthday,” He responded, his eyes still focused on the newspaper. 

“Thanks,” Taking a seat in front of him, you instantly moved to grab the syrup, but the rings on his finger caught your attention. Below, you could see his knuckles were red and purple, bruised like he’d been punching something … or someone. “Your hands …” 

He folded his newspaper, taking a look at them himself. It didn’t seem to faze him as he folded them on his stomach, leaning back in his chair, “Your wrist,” He changed the subject and you wondered if he was amused by the fear in your eyes, “Do you like my gift?”

“Yeah, it’s beautiful, I love it … thank you,” Your mind was elsewhere, “What happened to your hands? Is that from last night?”

“Last night is a blur. I was so angry after your little stunt, I had to have a few drinks to even get through the rest of the night.”

“Really?” You tried to hold in your scoff, “You seem very chipper today.”

“Only because I get to see your beautiful face,” He countered, smirking. 

Your eyes narrowed at him, “What did you do?”

“That’s a broad question-”

“Did you hurt him?”

“Him?” Steve raised an eyebrow, “You mean Peter? I thought about it … I’m still thinking about it actually. If he was smarter, yesterday would have never happened but you must’ve been pretty convincing. Poor kid, he probably thought you liked him.”

“None of it was his fault! I-I was just being stupid, I was using him and he was just trying to be a good guy. Steve, please.”

“If I did, you would probably start to actually listen. You’d never try one of those crazy stunts ever again-”

“I will listen! No more stunts, I’ll be an angel from now on,” You stood up from your chair, moving around the table, “I know you’re just trying to protect me. Peter tried to tell me that and I should’ve listened.” You grabbed a hold of his hand, squeezing it tightly. 

“That’s all I want,” He added sincerely and you nodded. 

“I’ll pinky promise,” With your other hand, you held out your pinky. You thought Peter would be your way out but, here you were, begging to stay in order to keep him alive. Your pinkies wrapped around each other and you climbed into his lap. You kissed the sides of his mouth before kissing his lips. 

“Soon, we’ll take a trip together, I know you’re itching to get away.” 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” You kissed his lips again, “Your hands … what actually happened?”

“Punching bag,” He easily explained although you were expecting a tale of horror. Holding his hand, you brought his fist to your lips, kissing them gently, “That probably wouldn’t have happened a year ago … I think you make me more gentle.”

“That’s a lot of pressure, don’t you think? Turning a beast into a prince.”

“For some reason, I have faith in you.”

+

“Peter!” You perked up as soon as he entered the living room, not realizing how grateful to see that he was still in one piece. Sam, Bucky, and Steve seemed to exchange confused glances from their places on the couch. 

Peter seemed baffled as well, “Am I in trouble or something?”

“No, we’re about to watch Coco. Wanna join?”

“There’s popcorn,” Sam added, stuffing his face.

“And cookies,” Bucky chimed in. 

Peter smiled, unsure, as he looked to Steve for permission, “Join us, son.”

“Awesome,” Peter clapped, making his way over to the couch, “This one always makes me cry.”

“Y/N, I thought you said this one wasn’t sad,” Bucky eyed you. You shrugged, snuggling yourself further into Steve’s side. You tried to hide a mischievous smile and act like you weren’t hoping to see three grown men tear up from a Disney movie. 

“Okay, press play,” You tapped Steve’s chest and he raised the remote. 

“Wait,” Steve paused, “Are all three of your nails painted?”

+

i’m thinking maybe i’ll make a christmas themed part 3, we shall see :)

[t0wnspersonb]

Caught (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

ari0425

said:

Hi! Um I was wondering if you could write a Domestic Bakugou where they were doing the do and there two kids caught them? Just wondering😁

~~~~

Word Count: 1,675

Rated: Explicit

Warnings: slight smut, bad language, slight edging

~~~~

Yooooo, I had so much fun writing this lmao. I literally love writing all things Bakugou as a husband! It’s kinda short and it might be shitty lol so I apologize in advance. @ari0425​ I hope I wrote this to your liking!😭😭😭 sorry it’s so late! Obviously requests are open and I’ll try and get to as much of them as I can. I’m so sorry for not being as active with my own content, life has just been super busy for me😭 My best friend is coming over tomorrow to chop off my hair so hopefully that goes well lol, and I will be officially out of my boot (hopefully) in the next week! I’ve honestly been walking on the broken technically since last week since it wasn’t hurting so hopefully I didn’t fuck anything up. Guess I’ll find out in a week! ANYWAY, I hope you guys have a wonderful weekend and don’t be shy about any comments or requests! I literally adore you all so much and I’m so very thankful and happy you guys like reading my shit💕💕💕🤗 stay happy and safe!

~~~~

“Why not?” Bakugou growled, his muscular arms folding across his chest. The sudden movement distracted you for a moment, and you couldn’t help but appreciate your husband’s strength.

 His bulging arm muscles were thick and taut as they rested across his chest, his broad shoulders exposed to your greedy eyes; tank tops were designed with your husband’s physique in mind, you were sure of it. But you were also sure that he knew exactly what he was doing, because a smirk began to tug at his lips.

 “I told you Katsuki, we have a busy day tomorrow with the kids.” You sighed, folding your own arms over your chest, your back leaning against the counter, an eyebrow raised; challenging the large hero before you.

 His smirk dropped, a large scowl now taking its place. “It’s always about the fucking kids.”

 You rolled your eyes at his statement. 

 Despite the rough words, you knew what he meant. Bakugou adored his children, he was a doting father, in his own way; but everyone knew that he would go to the ends of the earth for his children, he would protect them and cherish them no matter what. The minute he knew that you were pregnant, both times, he had never been happier. Bakugou could account for the five happiest times in his life, when you agreed to go out with him, when he became a pro hero, when you married him, and when you gave birth to his beautiful daughter, and then his beautiful son. 

 So, while his children were his pride and joy, sometimes… sometimes… he just wanted them to fucking go away. 

 He couldn’t remember the last time he was able to have you all to himself, and fuck, did he miss you. He craved having all of your undivided attention, being able to be alone with you. It had been far too long.

 “Why can’t they go have a sleepover at Deku’s with his kids?” he huffed angrily. 

 You rolled your eyes again. “We can’t just pawn off our children to Izuku whenever you want to get your dick wet Katsu. Besides, they all hung out last week, when you and Izuku had that call about the hostage situation. I watched all of them.”

 His eyes flashed in annoyance at your statement, his tall frame stalking over to you. You could never get used to how big Bakugou was compared to your small frame, his entire being radiated strength and power, it made you feel safe, secure… and most of all, it made you nervous.

 Not because you were scared of him, far from it, but because it had been a long time since the last time you two were intimate. The physical aspect of your relationship was always there, always important to you, but recently it had just been hard to find the time to be together in that way, especially with how clingy your son started being, and how your daughter was involved in more activities at school that needed attention. 

 You could feel your heart racing as he towered over you, his large arms caging you in as his hands rested against the counter top on either side of your body, forcing you to meet his gaze.

 “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me princess, it’s not just me that wants to get my dick wet. I’m sure you’ve been wanting to use that mouth for other things than just back talking to me.” He said lowly, his voice deep and dark, one of his hands came up to grab at your jaw, the rough pad of his thumb rubbed gently against your lower lip. 

 Your breath hitched in your throat, a familiar ache beginning to settle at the bottom of your stomach.

 How did you get such a gorgeous husband?

 “So, let’s just drop off the shitty kids with the old lady and be together already.” he finished, his fingers sliding down, wrapping themselves easily around your throat. He squeezed his fingers carefully, but there was enough pressure that caused a soft whimper to escape your lips. Bakugou sneered down at you, he knew your body far too well, knew exactly how to touch you to make you bend to his will.

 But when your mind finally registered what he had said, a large scowl covered your lips, the arousal you were feeling simmering down dramatically.

 “Don’t call our kids shitty, and we are not dropping them off with your mom when she just saw them yesterday. You either calm yourself down Katsuki or I’m not going to touch you for an even longer time.” you threatened, your palm resting flat against his muscular chest.

 He growled angrily, stepping back away from you and shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “Why are you denying me so much? You fucking shit, aren’t you supposed to be taking care of your husband?” 

 “Shut up and go set the table Katsuki.” You sighed, turning towards the stove to finish dinner.

 It was silent for a moment, and then his large arms wrapped carefully around your waist, hugging you softly to his muscular body. 

 A soft smile tugged at your lips when you felt his plush lips gently press against your cheek, and then he was gone. You turned to look at him stalk out of the kitchen and into the living room, probably to go round-up the kids.

 Bakugou Katsuki might be rough, but underneath that hard exterior that man was entirely soft when it came to you and his kids.

 ****

 This wasn’t how you imagined this morning going. 

 Soft moans were being muffled by hungry kisses, the sound of ruffling sheets and skin slapping against one another surrounded the quiet room.

 Perfection. 

 That was this was.

 “Fuck, you feel so perfect wrapped around my cock princess.” Bakugou growled, his hips thrusting deep into your core. 

 You whimpered softly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the immense amount of pleasure. He filled you to the brim, your tight heat engulfing him completely. 

 This was what he had been missing, what you had been missing. The pleasure, the intimacy of feeling each other’s bare bodies sliding against one another, it was all too much.

 “Katuski, w-wait…” You panted out, your hands grabbing at his broad shoulders, sliding down to hold onto his forearms, the familiar pressure was beginning to bubble up again, filling you up and aching to break through.

 “Again? This is your third one princess, did you miss my cock that much?” he mocked you, one of his hands reaching down to rub at your clit, ghosting over the bundle of nerves, not quite putting pressure down, but the touch alone was enough to cause your body to arch up off of the bed in pleasure. You could feel tears prickling at your eyes, your body aching for release, except now that Bakugou knew that you were close, he was going to drag it out as much as possible.

 The cruel bastard.

 “Katsuki please,” you cried, his thrusts slowing down, he dragged his member out of your body before pressing back into your tight heat deeply, savoring every second of your begging, of your wet core.

 “Beg harder princess.” he growled out, a sadistic smirk etching itself onto his lips. “I want to hear you beg for it.”

 A whimper tore through your lips at his cruel words and slow pace.

 You ached for release now, no words being able to form in your mouth, which didn’t sit well with Bakugou since he gave a particular hard and deep thrust at your silence.

 His thumb suddenly pressed down hard against your clit, rubbing fast and rough, causing a jolt of pleasure to ripple through your body.

 You felt it then, the wall cracking as your release began to build up and up and…

 “Mama?” 

 You and Bakugou froze, both of your heads snapping over to the small child that stood near the now open door. Your son rubbed at his eyes sleepily, his teddy bear dragged against the ground in his other hand.

 You would’ve thought it was the most adorable sight you had ever seen, except for the fact that your husband was still buried deep inside of you. You silently thanked the universe for the fact that the sheets were still wrapped around your guys’ body, covering you up completely.

 Your son looked at you in confusion for a second, taking in the scene before his little three-year-old eyes and then…

 His face turned angry. He was the spitting image of Bakugou, except for the eyes and his personality, that took after you.

 “Wow really?” your daughter suddenly appeared at the door, looking at you guys in disgust. While your son might look like your husband, your daughter looked just like you, minus the hair and her personality. Those of which she inherited from her father.

 The personality part was a bit unfortunate, especially considering how much she and Bakugou butted heads, especially now that she had just turned nine.

 “Get off my mama!” Your son began to yell. “You are hurting her!” 

 Your eyes widened in surprise and you watched as your son began taking a step towards you guys only for your daughter to grab his hand. 

 “She’s fine.” She said curtly. “Let’s go watch cartoons. Leave mama and shitty papa alone right now.”

 Your lips twitched in amusement at her words, she was definitely Bakugou’s first born, that much was obvious.

 “Oi, you shitty fucking brat what did you just call me!?” Bakugou growled, a tick mark appearing above his head as he looked at his children. 

 “Shitty papa.” Your daughter said simply and closed the door as she walked off with her brother in tow.

 “What the fuck! Who the fuck taught you that word you little shit!?” Bakugou screamed out.

 Laughter bubbled up through your lips, causing Bakugou to scream at you next for laughing. 

 But you couldn’t help it, your heart was entirely full right now. 

[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

Flirting with the intern (1)

Series masterlist

Word count: 1263

Genre: idk, probably a mix of angst of fluff

Pairing: Natasha x fem!reader

Warnings: None (let me know if I need to add any)

Summary: You’re Tony’s new intern and Natasha seems to take an interest in you when you’re bartending at a party.

A/n: Hi so this wasn't a request but a lot of you seemed to like this blurb I wrote and I was bored and had writer's block so I came up with this series, hopefully you like it! I will try to update fairly often but no promises (I also have no idea where I’m going with this so feel free to give me ideas). Also if you aren’t on my regular taglist but would like to be tagged in this series, or you are on my regular taglist but wouldn’t like to be tagged in this series let me know, I will not be offended. Anyways I hope you enjoy!

She gets bored of the conversation, eyes wandering around the huge room until she spots you serving drinks to some of the older gentlemen over by the bar. You’re pretty and she admires the dress you’re wearing, noticing with disdain that the men at the bar are doing the same, not at all subtle in the way they leer. You look uncomfortable but handle the situation gracefully, handing over their drinks before walking away, rolling your eyes.

She doesn’t recognize you which is odd. She makes a point to be able to match everybody’s face to their name, a habit formed by years of not trusting others, and there’s no way she missed anyone, much less a cute girl.

“Who’s that?” she asks Steve suddenly, only noticing after she speaks that she interrupted his conversation with Bruce. Oh well, she muses, it’s not like talking about the differences of desserts now and when Steve was born is a particularly important topic over conversation.

Steve doesn’t frown but his forehead wrinkles a little. “I don’t know. You should ask Tony, he probably knows.” Steve pauses, thinking a second. “Or he has absolutely no clue. Either way you should ask him.”

Natasha nods and looks around the room to find Tony. Luckily he seems sober and is pretty close by, talking to Pepper and Rhodney.

“Hey,” she greets as she walks up.

“Hi red,” Tony responds and Natasha gives him a slight glare at the unwanted nickname, being slightly more lenient than usual because she needs something from him.

“Who is the girl working at the bar?” she asks, getting straight to the point.

Tony waggles his eyebrows. “Why? Do you think she’s cute?”

“No,” Natasha half lies (she does but that’s not the only reason she’s asking), “I like to know the names of everybody so if something goes wrong I know exactly who did it. She is obviously an employee of yours but I’ve never seen her before so I would like to know who she is.”

“Spies,” Tony mutters under his breath before speaking louder. “Her name is Y/n and she’s my new intern.”

“What happened to Sarah?” Natasha asks. Sarah wasn’t extraordinary in any sense but she worked hard and Natasha could admire that.

“Couldn’t handle the pressure and started crying in the labs a few days ago saying it was too hard and she wanted to quit, so I told her she no longer had an internship.” Tony explains.

“Which is why you are going to be more understanding and less hard on Y/n.” Pepper interjects, giving Tony a look. “This is your fourth intern in three months. It doesn’t look good for the press if none of your interns like the program or pass it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony waves his hand around. Natasha has no doubt that if he is unsatisfied with your work he’ll take away your internship as well, without considering Pepper’s words.

“Well thank you for your help Tony, I’m going to go talk to her and see what I can find out now,” she tells him, starting to walk away.

“Spies,” Tony mutters again, shaking his head fondly as he watches her go.

---

“I’ll take a shot of vodka, neat,” a sultry voice says and you spin around to find yourself face to face with the feared assassin and possibly most beautiful woman to ever exist, Natasha Romanoff.

“I-um, er-” She lifts an eyebrow delicately and you fall silent.

“You do know how to do that right?” she asks sarcastically.

“Of course,” you tell her, more confident after taking a breath. You busy yourself with making the drink which doesn’t take long at all.

“Here you go, um-” you flounder, unsure of what to address her as.

“Agent Romanoff,” she says, sticking out her hand for you to shake.

You lean over the counter and shake it. “Y/n.”

She hums thoughtfully. The view as you leaned over the counter was not bad and she wonders if you were showing off on purpose before brushing that idea out of your head. You seemed nervous early and your body language didn’t suggest anything flirty. Still, she couldn’t help but try her luck.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl like you,” she says and you feel heat rise in your cheeks and turn your head away so she can’t see your reaction. It’s useless of course and barely hides you at all but she finds it adorable that you tried and also adorable how flustered you get at one generic pick up line.

“Um, thank you,” you tell her, trying not to stutter. She bites back a smile. Just when she thought you couldn't get any more adorable you do, all cute and shy.

She winks. “Just the truth sweetheart.”

You nearly choke on your own spit when you hear her words. If you didn’t know any better you’d think she was flirting with you. But that is impossible because she is so much better than you that the thought alone is completely ridiculous.

“So how are you finding Stark industries so far?” she asks, switching the subject. As much fun as it’s been flirting with you she can tell she needs to tone it down a little if she doesn’t want you to combust.

You blink a few times at the sudden change before speaking. “It’s been quite an experience so far even though I’ve only been here a few days. Tony is definitely as brilliant and eccentric as everyone says and I think I’ve learned a lot and I’m excited to learn more.”

She laughs, a sound that makes you want to hear more. “Tony definitely is eccentric, but as long as you go along with it he’ll love you. And if you get on Pepper’s good side Tony will be scared to fire you.”

“Thanks for the tips,” you say surprised, “Pepper is definitely scarier than Tony.”

“Oh for sure,” Natasha- Agent Romanoff agrees, “but don’t let him hear you say that.”

“Don’t let who let you say what?” Tony asks, standing beside Natasha and throwing his arm around her. She immediately steps away, brushing him off.

“I was just warning your intern about how utterly stupid you can be sometimes,” she tells him, “I want to prepare her properly so she doesn’t leave or get fired like the others.”

She walks off and you watch her go, not noticing how entranced you are until Tony clears his throat.

“So Natasha huh?” he asks and you look at him wide eyed.

“I’m sorry Mister Stark, I don’t know what you mean.” you play dumb.

He shakes his head. “You’re not the first and you definitely won’t be the last, I can’t say I don’t blame you.”

“Mister Stark?”

He sighs. “Just be careful around her kid, I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

You nod as he leaves the bar as well. The rest of the night you think about the weird exchanges you had with both Tony and Natasha. Everything you had heard about the Black Widow was that she was cold and unfriendly but she seemed pretty nice to you, especially with the weird almost flirting thing she was doing. You know it wasn’t real, you watch as she makes the rounds of the room and has everyone practically falling over her feet, but it felt real and when she smiles in your direction from across the room and makes eye contact you know that you are way too close from catching feelings, which is always a bad idea.

---

next part >>>

Taglist: @fayhar@xxxtwilightaxelxxx@acertainredhead@madamevirgo@megaqueenmaeve@cherryblossomskye@aaron-despair@chickenhavewisdom@emril-osvigne@nyankitty987@agathaharkness-simp@midnight-lestrange@thewidowsghost@nyx-aira@stephanieromanoff@satxnsupreme@likefirenrain@wlwlovesreading@natashadeservedbetter@stop-drop-and-drumroll@peggycarter-steverogers@casperlikej@redswing@mochamoff@king-star@blackbat2020

[donutloverxo]

Spoiled

Kinktober day 5 - Mirror sex

*gif is not mine*

Note - this is a bit of a rushed job. Because while I like August I didn't want to end the year on him lol. It has to be our husband. Thank you so so much for all the support and love all of you have shown me this past year, it's serves as a great motivation for me. I have a resolution of writing 200k in the next year so hopefully there's a lot more hoeness and happiness this coming year for us all. Love y'all❤

This is the last part and sequel to past self and messed up. Dividers by @whimsicalrogers.

Warnings - 18+ only, Smut (m/f), daddy kink, light anal play, hints to threesomes, jealous Steve, cum play, rough sex, general nastiness.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 2k

“I am so tired. I mean time travelling is fun and all but sooo exhausting,” you mumbled into the pillow as you laid face flat on your bed. The soft plush mattress providing some much needed comfort to your sore muscles.

After the snap both you and Steve had moved into a brownstone in Brooklyn, it was much smaller than your quarters in the compound but you never really liked having that much of a distance from him anyway.

Even if you weren’t doing anything, you’d prefer to do nothing with him. Just lounging around on like a couple of couch potatoes.

It was hard for him to not have much to do. With half the world gone and the Avengers broken up he spent most of his days volunteering and leading therapy groups. Telling others to move on, that’s what their loved ones would want for them, while not being able to do so himself. Blaming himself for everything that had happened.

He told you that having all that free time made his mind go to dark places, thinking of his past, of all the lives that he wasn’t able to save. And after years of denying that he needed any, he decided to go to therapy.

They were a tough few years. But everything was fine now. As fine as it could be. His friends were back, you joked about how Bucky and Tony had matching cyborg arms now, he laughed at that but they didn’t. There was still plenty of hostility there, he didn’t exactly expect them to become ‘bffs', as you’d called it, hopefully they’d learn to get along.

He unzipped your boots, pulling them off and massaging your feet, listening to you babble nonsense about all your theories about time travel.

He always called you his sunshine. It was an apt petname for you, you brought light into his life, you were his light at the end of the tunnel. After years of being alone, it was as if he was waiting for you all along.

While you had your share of breakdowns during those five years, lots of fights with him because you wanted to move on and not be stuck in the past. He agreed with you, he didn’t want to be stuck, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t give up on those he loved.

You were always there for him. His only solace during those dark times.

He had changed a lot, when he met you he was still the Captain, then he was on the run, living in shady motels and not knowing who the fuck he was.

He became a bit more melancholic after the snap, the whole world did, a lot needier for you and your attention and love. Because he was so grateful you weren’t gone.

If you had... he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

He knew it annoyed you because even though you loved him, that he didn’t doubt one bit, you also liked your independence. But he’ll always need you way more than you need him.

“Sunshine?” he called for your attention, his hands now moving up to your calves, applying just the little bit of pressure.

You giggled, looking over your shoulder to him as you felt your face heat up, “I swear, Steve, you’re so cheesy.”

“Do you...” he cleared his throat and then shook his head, it was stupid of him to even think something like that much less verbally express it to you.

You turned around, laying flat on your back, “What?”

“It’s silly,” he pressed his lips in a thin line.

“I don’t care, you still have to tell me. Come on,” you lightly kicked your legs which were on his lap.

“Do you ever wish... you were with someone closer to your age.”

He couldn’t look at you, even after all these years of being together he couldn’t be completely vulnerable--a life of rejection making him anticipate the worst.

“Why would you say that?” you sat up, cupping his cheek with your hand.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged.

It wasn’t just that you were younger, almost everyone was younger compared to him, but you had a young soul that would never grow old.

And he... he was no fun sometimes, how long would it take for you to grow tired of him. Did just you like the thrill of being on the run? When he was more edgier and rougher than he is now.

“I could never even imagine being with anyone but you,” you assured him.

He scoffed, “Didn’t seem like that when you were with him.”

“Oh, you mean ‘you'?” you cocked your head to the side, feigning innocence.

You knew how jealous your fawning over his past self’s beard had made him. To be honest, you would lose your shit if he acted that way towards any other woman, even if said woman was a version of you.

He shook his head, “Forget I said anything.”

“Wait,” you cupped his cheek, making him look at you, “You’re so jelly and needy sometimes, daddy.”

He bit the inside of his as you knelt on the floor before him, parting his legs, your hands fumbling with his belt but he stopped you by holding onto your wrists.

“We should get cleaned up...” he half heartedly tried to stop you but you managed to pull all his straps open and take his hardening erection out of his pants.

“We probably should...” you hummed, “But I guess I need to show daddy how much I love him,” peaking out your tongue to circle his leaking tip.

“I know you love me, sweetheart, but I just worry sometimes if I’m too old fashioned for you?” he wondered, letting out a shuddering moan as you took him in your mouth, looking up at him with your wide innocent eyes--always so full of life.

You swallowed around him, moaning at the familiar taste and scent of him, taking him deeper till he hit the back of your throat.

Steve being old fashioned did bother you a little at times. Not the part where he was an absolute gentleman, always holding the door open for you, paying for your dates. But where he always wanted to be the one protecting you. Taking care of you. Which was good, but he needs some loving too.

“Swallow it all, honey,” he instructed as he held your head down, his spend coating the back of your throat as you followed his command like a good girl.

Opening your mouth and holding out your tongue, “I did it, daddy,” you proclaimed proudly.

He prodded at your mouth with his fingers, under your tongue, to make sure that you got all of it, “Good girl,” he smiled as you suckled on his fingers, “you always need to have your mouth stuffed, honey, don’t you?”

You only nodded, letting out a pathetic whine when he pulled his fingers out with a loud pop.

“Let’s go shower, honey,” he said but then frowned when you shook your head.

“Are you done already? That’s it?” Don't say it, don’t... “Got another one in ya?”

You knew you were digging your own grave, of Steve wanted you he could literally fuck you for days, you had tried to ‘test' that on your honeymoon. To see who would give out first, your poor pussy or his unyielding supersoldier stamina.

Obviously he won and you were never able to complete your little experiment.

He gave you a fake sweet smile, dripping with--so much malice which was so not Steve. Gripping your hair he yanked you back to bare your neck to him, his other hand tracing your pulse point before wrapping around your neck, applying the slightest bit of pressure - because you were precious, he’d never want to actually hurt you, “I was going to make love to you in the shower, sweetheart.” he squeezed tighter as you choked, wrapping your tiny hands around his wrist, “But then you had to go and say that. What should we do with you?” he mused.

“Fuck me?” you sassed, while making love sounded nice, you would much rather have a good dicking down.

“No, you have to learn your lesson, honey. I maybe older but it only makes me better. I’ll have to show you I guess,” he tutted.

Hauling you up, with his hands under your arms, he manhandled you till you both stood before the dressing mirror you had gotten a few months ago, pressing your cheek against its cool surface as he worked on the seams of your cat suit.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” he confessed, ever since you had bought the large mirror, he liked to watch you as he took you apart in it, sometimes making you look, somehow that seemed to suck all your sass and feistiness and you’d just turn into a shy flustered mess in his arms, refusing to look at the mirror or at him.

Which would only fuel his lust, because he still had the ability to surprise you, even after he’d seen all of you. Felt all of your caverns, and you, intimately and knew them like the back of his hand.

“Never really got the opportunity to, now’s good a time as any, wouldn’t you agree?” he nibbled at the shell of your ear, smirking as you weakly nodded.

“You’re so good at doing what you’re told.” He pressed a kiss to your hair, kneeling behind you to rid you of your tight pants before burying his head between your legs.

Nudging your intimate lips apart with the lip of his tongue, “You’re already soaked, honey,” he observed, licking his lips to savor your taste before prodding at your second hole with his tongue, just so he could hear you gasp.

“Steve!” you exclaimed, not expecting that. While Steve was more of an ass man, he never wanted to fuck you or even touch you there. But after a lot of course convincing from your side he had to give in.

He bit the flesh of your buttocks before speaking against it, “Since you like having all your holes stuffed, maybe I should call Bucky to help me out sometime...”

“Really?!” you perked up, looking down at him over your shoulder.

He didn’t give you an answer, instead fucking you with his tongue tillyou were quivering around him, crying out loud, as the mirror fogged up.

“Bucky’s nice...” you mumbled incoherently as he rose to his feet, his nails digging into your hips as he picked you up till you were standing on your top toes to meet his height. Sheathing his hard length inside you in one firm thrusts as he stayed still to let you get used to him.

“Hm. Am I not nice?” you saw him frown behind in his reflection, “I buy you whatever you want. Give you whatever you want, don’t I? Apparently it’s not enough for you. You’re getting too spoiled, I need to start saying no,” he drove each word home with hard thrusts, his tip kissing your cervix, his warm breath brushing the back of your neck.

“NOOO,” you whined, tears streaming down your face at such an outrageous prospect. Steve never said no to you. Not even when you literally asked for a threesome with his past self. “I was saying...” You tried to say but moaned as he pinched your clit, trying to jerk away from him but his firm hold on you made it impossible. “That he’s nice...” you panted, “Slow down, please!”

He hummed to make a show of thinking about it but then fastened his pace, twisting your clit between his fingers as he watched your face in the mirror.

“No.”

“He’s nice.... but he’s not you,” you wailed, clenching around him as your climax washed over you.

He had to hold onto your waist, so you wouldn’t collapse on your shaky leg, he smiled, “That’s very touching, doll.” He said.

“’is the truth.”

“I wouldn’t mind sharing it with Bucky though. He knows you’re mine.” Unlike a certain someone who was dumb enough to think he had any claim on you, “Can you hold for me?” he asked as you nodded.

Planting your hands against the mirror you braced yourself as he fucked you from behind, filling you up to the brim with his warmth.

“Okay then. You wouldn’t find me kicking him out of my bed...” you giggled.

[seongsangi]

just catching up

YOOO this is the first smut im posting... lemme know how yall feel pls

pairing: jaehyun x reader

summary: you’ve had a small crush on jaehyun since high school but haven’t seen him in three years. you guys reconnect at a party and things go from there...

word count: 7.4k+

genre: smut bro just smut

warnings: drinking and smoking (PLEASE be responsible when doing either/or)

In the back of your mind, you've always had a little thing for Jaehyun. You first met him in high school, where you had a few classes together over the years. You and him never developed into anything other than classmates, as he hung out with a different crowd than you did. Not a bad crowd, just not the same friend group. You usually stuck to your own circle of friends in high school, and so did he. In class, you would gravitate towards each other for group projects or help each other with assignments and homework, but you both never went beyond that. It's not like you had an undying love for him, but you couldn't deny that he was smart, funny, always willing to help when you were confused, always managed to make you laugh or put a smile on your face when class got boring, and was extremely attractive as a bonus. Outside of class, you'd only see him in passing; maybe you wanted to get to know him a little better, but you weren't sure if he felt the same way, so you never acted on it. After graduation, you both went to different colleges. You stayed in the same state whereas he moved away, and your small crush eventually faded.

It is now your junior year in college, and you still kept in contact with some of your friends from high school. It's winter break and they wanted to go to a New Years Eve party tonight to ring in the new decade. You were excited, you wanted to go out and have a little fun, maybe get a little drunk to celebrate acing the long finals you had to take. As you made your way into the house, your friends scattered around, saying hey to people they haven't seen since graduation. You headed straight for the kitchen to make yourself a drink, no time to waste. You wanted to start off light before getting too fucked up, and you were so glad you weren't the designated driver tonight.

Drink in hand, you walk around the house and recognize so many faces from high school. You never really talked to these people, but your graduating class wasn't that big so you didn't have to really know them to know them. The party was in your hometown, where you all graduated and people came home from college for winter break. There actually weren't very many people you didn't recognize. You exchanged greetings with a few and chatted with them just to pass the time, but the music was so loud you couldn't really hear much of what they were saying.

A few mixed drinks in, you found a spot in the corner of the living room, looking around for your friends to make sure they were okay. Parties weren't really your thing since you were still a bit awkward around people and didn't socialize as much as the rest of your friends. Being alone wasn't that bad either, as long as you had something to keep your mind buzzing. As you scanned the room, the front door opened and the party got even louder as people began greeting the crowd that just walked in. Jaehyun and his friends seemed to steal the show, and you couldn't keep your eyes off him. Clad in an all black outfit, you could tell he got much taller and more muscular since the last time you saw him. He walked in with four other guys you recognize as part of his friend group, but his smile alone lights up the room, at least to you. You suddenly feel a bit shy, but you don't know why. He hasn't even said a word to you and you feel butterflies in your stomach. Three years doesn't seem like a long time, but he definitely looks even more attractive than before and you start to wonder what he would look like without his clothes ­ — wait, what the fuck? 

Why were you thinking of him in that way? He literally just walked through the door and you're already fantasizing about him. You make your way through the crowd, away from Jaehyun and out to the patio where you can calm yourself down a bit. You try to talk yourself through it, yes he's good looking, so good looking, but you haven't talked to each other in a while and there's no telling if he's even the same person from high school. You shouldn't be thinking of him in that way without even having a proper conversation with him. It was just a simple crush, so why did your mind jump so far ahead into getting in bed with him and letting him have his way —

"Y/N?" The sound of your friend calling your name brings you back to your senses. "We're about to take shots, do you wanna come back inside?"

You shrug the indecent thoughts you're having about Jaehyun off and down the rest of the drink in your hand before hurriedly following her back inside to the kitchen. You're definitely tipsy by now, but you're in the mood for more. There are several shot glasses laid out, all filled with Henny to the brim for the taking. It burns every time you drink it, but it's a good burn and hits quick. You grab a glass off the counter and turn to face your friend when you almost collide with the person behind you. You realize it's Jaehyun, and he's beaming down at you with that perfect smile that makes your heart race a bit.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were behind me," you say, taking a step back.

"Y/N? Hey, it's been so long!" he replies, grabbing his own glass and raising it to yours. You clink glasses and take the shot; without fail, it burns like it always does. You wish you had something to chase it with. He offers you his can of Coke, noticing the way you grimace. You gladly take it without thinking and hand it back to him, throat feeling much better after.

"How have you been? How's school going?" he asks, leading you away from the kitchen and back out to the patio where only a few other people are hanging out. You look around for your friend, but she's already made her way in the opposite direction. You weren't sure if you wanted to be alone with him so soon. Your mind was already racing with thoughts you couldn't seem to control.

"I've been good, my classes were kind of hard this semester and I'm just so tired of school but at least we're on break right now, it's much needed. What about you?"

"Tell me about it, I couldn't wait to come to this party. I've pretty much just been staying at home with my family since I haven't been home in a while." You and Jaehyun continue the conversation, talking about your majors and what classes were the hardest for you both this semester. You can feel the alcohol kicking in the longer you talk to him, your head starts to get heavy and you're smiling at everything he says, not that you can help it. You catch him staring at you as you talk about the class you enjoyed the most, listening intently while at the same time you could swear he was checking you out, eyeing you up and down with a look you couldn't decipher. You sit on the edge of the table behind you, hands gripping the edge to help you balance yourself. You're a bit wobbly now that the drinks have taken effect. He notices you're tipsy and chuckles, asking if you feel okay.

"I feel great," you say a bit too happily, making you both laugh. "Actually... I kinda wanna take another shot." He raises an eyebrow at you, seeing as how your legs stumble a bit as you start walking, but doesn't stop you as you make your way to the kitchen and take one of the glasses left on the counter. You pour yourself another shot, turning to look back at him and nodding your head for him to take one too. "Only if you want," not trying to pressure him. He smiles and raises the glass so you can pour him one. A few mixed drinks and two shots in and you feel unstoppable. You've always been kind of a lightweight compared to your friends, so you decide to chill out with the alcohol for now, not being the best at holding it down in the end anyway.

The music is much louder inside than it is outside. Jaehyun steps closer to you and leans down. "I don't know if you smoke, but I figured I'd ask anyway. Wanna go upstairs?" He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of rillos, trying to be discreet from others so they don't ask him to share.

"What, just me and you?" You say with a little tease, leaning on the counter obviously enjoying where this is going. You haven't smoked in a while, but you can definitely handle your weed better than alcohol. Granted, you don't need either of them to have a good time, but you surely do when you have both, so why not spice things up a bit?

"Yeah, just me and you," he replies with a smirk of his own. "I was gonna use this on my own when I could find a time to get away from my friends, but I think I'd have more fun with you."

You can't help but feel a little giddy, was it the alcohol making you feel this way or was it the fact that you're about to spend time with him in a way you never have before? Maybe it's the way he's looking at you so intensely like he could eat you up right here in this kitchen with all these people around? Maybe you were just imagining things, but you could feel the mutual attraction you both have for each other. You decide not to get too ahead of yourself and just go with the flow. You push yourself off the counter, sauntering through the kitchen, looking behind you and waiting for him to follow with a playful smile. You don't even know the layout of this house, but you head for the stairs where you think there would be less people. Jaehyun stops and talks to someone for a bit, presumably asking if he could go upstairs. You wait at the steps, taking in his figure and the way the black shirt he's wearing hugs his chest and arms so perfectly. He's definitely been putting in work at the gym, you note to yourself. He glances at you as you're waiting for him to finish his conversation. You're getting a bit impatient and mouth for him to hurry up, which makes him boast a chuckle, finally finishing the conversation and following you up the stairs.

"Someone's eager," he says as he leads you to the room at the end of the hallway.

"You have no idea," you reply, a bit under your breath but you know he heard it.

The room you walk into has a bed sitting in the middle, with two huge windows on either side of it and a desk in front of the window on the right. Neither of you reach to turn on the light, seeing as the room is still pretty lit with the moonlight shining through the windows. You don't know whose room it is but you're glad they let you come up here. You felt more comfortable not being around a bunch of people you didn't really talk to in the first place. There's a bathroom to the left, which reminds you that you need to break the seal.

"Hold on, I gotta use the bathroom first." Jaehyun turns on the fan in the room and sits in the chair at the desk, cracking the window open and pulling the blunt and lighter from his pocket.

You check yourself out in the mirror, admiring the way your hair and makeup looks tonight. You wipe your lipstick off, not wanting to get it all over the blunt you were about to smoke with Jaehyun. The reality of the situation hits you. All of a sudden, you're alone with him in this room and you're about to get high with him? How did things move so fast? Not that you were complaining, but you sure did feel very nervous. You felt even more intense butterflies in your stomach, looking towards the bathroom door knowing he would be out there waiting for you. You take a deep breath to try to calm your nerves. You remind yourself you came here to have a good time tonight, you weren't about to ruin the night for yourself.

When you walk out of the bathroom, you notice the way the light is shining on him from the window. He looks so damn good right now and he's not even doing anything, how does he do that? He looks up at you and puts his phone in his pocket, grabbing the blunt and holding it out for you to light it. You realize the bed is too far away from the desk for you to pass the blunt back and forth, so you have no idea where to sit. He makes a move to stand up and let you sit in the chair but you stop him.

"No, it's okay, you can sit there," you assure him. You sit on the edge of the desk, glad that it's big enough so you're not too close to him. You're in a very intimate situation with him already, but you don't know if you could handle being any closer to him than you have to be. You take the first few hits, letting the smoke fill your lungs before it becomes too much. You start coughing, it really has been a while and your throat is getting dry already. He hands you a water bottle - where did that even come from? You pass the blunt to him as you take a sip and he chuckles. "You've smoked before right?" he asks as he takes a long hit.

"Yeah, it's just been a while. I stopped cause I started nursing school."

"Oh shit, should you even be smoking right now? What if they drug test you?" he asks, worried you might get in trouble.

You laugh, thinking it's cute that he's worried about you. "No, they don't do random tests, just once before you start the program." He nods, handing it back to you. You feel like it's too quiet with just the two of you and grab your phone to start playing some music. As the minutes pass by, your head starts to feel lighter and lighter, just the way you like it. Your eyes get droopy and you're staring at him for a bit longer than you should be in between hits. He hasn't noticed yet, but you can't keep your eyes off him. You don't know what's coming over you, he hasn't made a move or come on to you in a way that would make you think he's into you, but you can't help but let your mind wander about the things you'd let him do to you. You let your eyes trail across his body, watching the way he leans on the desk, muscles flexed perfectly in that shirt. He blows smoke out the window and leans back in the chair, facing you with his hand outstretched, handing you the blunt. In that moment, your eyes move to his thighs, spread out and looking like they're inviting you to come sit in his lap. You squeeze your legs together, trying to ignore the urge to take him up on the invitation you imagined he was giving you.

He clears his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts, but the way you're looking at him with those hooded and lust filled eyes doesn't go unnoticed. You try to shake the thoughts away and take the blunt from him, which has gotten a lot smaller and harder to hold. You can't bring yourself to make eye contact with him any more, way too shy to do so after he caught you staring at him, so you stare out the window, watching as a few people leave the party.

Jaehyun takes the opportunity to look at you - really look at you since you've been together in the room. He can't deny that he's been attracted to you, even before he saw you at the party tonight. Sure, you went to school together and didn't talk much outside of class, but he was excited to see you everyday in the period you had together. You were smart, one of the smartest in the entire graduating class and always on top of your work. It was something he admired about you, being so hardworking and studious. He would choose you as his partner every time there was a group project, not because he knew you would do a good job but because he wanted to spend as much time with you as he could. You always looked so cute when you were confused on an assignment, but you never noticed the way he would look at you. You didn't hang out with the same friend group, but he'd catch himself looking for you in the hallways or in the cafeteria. He wanted to catch a glimpse of that beautiful smile on your face, undoubtedly his favorite thing about you. He didn't know if you felt the same way about him so he never said anything and just let the years pass by.

He didn't expect to see you at the party, but as soon as he did he knew his crush for you had never really gone away. He saw you standing by yourself out on the patio, wondering if he should go out there and say hey. But before he could, your friend called you back inside to take a few shots and he took the chance to "bump" into you. He wasn't going to let the opportunity get away from him again.

And now here you are, sitting on the edge of the desk looking absolutely gorgeous. Doing nothing but doing everything to him at the same time. You were wearing a short black skirt that hugged your figure in all the right ways, which definitely became more voluptuous since the last time he saw you. The low cut crop top you wore had him imagining all the marks and hickeys he would leave if he had the chance. He couldn't keep his eyes off you, taking in the way your thighs were splayed out on the desk, ready for him to kneel down and spread them open, making you feel so good you wouldn't want him to stop. The thought of taking you right here made him clench his jaw and he could feel that his pants were getting too tight. He didn't want to rush anything in case you weren't feeling the same way.

But when he caught you looking at him in the same way he devoured you with his eyes, he knew the feeling was mutual. The words were unspoken, but the look told him everything he needed to know. You were both hesitating, trying to control yourselves, unsure if the next step should be taken just yet.

"Jaehyun," you call out to him, trying to get his attention. "I think it's out."

"Just put it here in the ash tray, I'll throw it away later." He watches as you step off the desk, stretching your whole body after sitting for so long. His eyes trail over your lower body, loving the way the skirt you're wearing rides up as you stretch. Such a simple act starts to get him riled up, and he's thinking about what you'd look like if the pesky little skirt wasn't in the way.

"How do you feel?" he asks, knowing you're already pretty high by the way your eyes are red and hooded.

"I feel great," you reply, and you can't help but laugh out loud, both of you knowing you're already gone.

"That's good, I'm glad you're having fun. You know, I'd rather be here with you than with everyone else downstairs."

You don't know what he means by that - does he want to stay up here? With you? Just the two of you? Your body starts to burn up, indecent thoughts making their way back into your mind. You don't know if he means it in that way or if he just doesn't really enjoy the party, but you're afraid to ask.

"I think it's nice to get away from everyone for a bit. It can get overwhelming. I know my friends are gonna be here for a while so I guess we can stay here for a bit..." you trail, not wanting to sound too desperate to be here with him for a little longer.

You sit back on the desk as he leans back in the chair again, silently inviting you like he did before. You don't know if he's doing this on purpose or if he's really that oblivious, but you wish he would just get the hint that you're feeling him. But you don't know if he wants you like you want him. You both stare at each other intently, waiting for the other person to do something, anything, make a move and let it be known.

He's looking at you with an unreadable look and you're afraid that he doesn't really want to be with you, just that he wants to get away from the party. You can't keep the staring contest going with him, so you grab your phone to change the music.

Suddenly, he leans forward and takes your phone out of your hand and throws it on the bed behind you, leaving you stunned. He gets out of the chair and stands right in front of you, looking down at you as you crane your head to look at him. When did he get so fucking tall? You feel tiny under his glare, looking at him innocently, not sure where things are headed but you sure as hell don't want it to stop. He rests his hands on the edge of the desk, trapping you in between his arms. You tense up, noticing how close his hands are to your thighs and you want nothing more than for him to touch you.

"You're a tease, you know that?" he says with a smirk.

"A what?" you reply nervously. His hands slowly slide up and down your thighs, bringing out the goosebumps from how cold his hands are on your warm skin. Your body is on fire now and your heart starts to race. It's harder to keep eye contact with him now under his smoldering gaze but you can't look away.

"You heard what I said. You're a tease. I see the way you look at me, but you haven't done anything. It's making me crazy watching you hold yourself back." His hands firmly grip your thighs now, pushing them apart so he can stand properly between them. This is the closest he's ever been to you and you don't know what to do or how to react.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you lie, looking anywhere but at his face with that stupid smirk he's got on. He knows you're lying, and you know he knows, but you're too shy to admit it.

He steps away from you, "Okay, I won't push you if you don't want to." He makes a move to head out but you're panicking now - did you just ruin it? Of course you want him, you've wanted him since he stepped inside the door tonight. Now you know he wants you, so why aren't you reciprocating?

You grab his hand before he gets too far away, pulling him back to face you. "I didn't know if you felt the same... so I didn't say anything..." you say, scared that he'll actually leave you hanging.

He resumes his position between your thighs. "Look at me," he says, voice much deeper than it's been all night. You're trying to read his expression, and you can tell he's been holding back too. You take a deep breath - it's now or never.

"Do you .. want me?" you say, holding your breath in case for some reason he doesn't and has just been toying with you.

"I thought you'd never ask," as he crashes his lips onto yours, holding you by the waist and deepening the kiss before you could catch your breath. You can't keep up with him, he's fighting for dominance and all you can do is give in. Your hands grip his shirt as your lips mold together, your neck starting to hurt from craning up so much. His hands move from your waist to your neck, supporting you while wrapping one hand in your hair. He tugs at your bottom lip, before pulling away slowly, lips barely touching as you stare at each other. You're breathing hard, trying to make sense of what just happened. He's still got that damn smirk on his face and you can only look at him, eyes begging for more.

His hand is still wrapped in your hair but he decides to test the waters a bit. He tugs a bit, earning a small sound from you.

"Do you like getting your hair pulled?" he says against your lips. You feebly nod, his grip now much firmer. You're pulling him further and further under your spell, and he loves it. His lips move down and he tugs your head to the left so he can place warm kisses on your neck. His free hand rests on your thigh, squeezing you so close to where you want him most. His lips feel like fire on your neck, his fingers are teasing the hem of your skirt and you can feel your panties getting uncomfortably soaked by his small actions.

His lips trail further down your neck, spreading hot open-mouthed kisses across your chest. He lets go of your hair and pulls your shirt down, exposing a part of your black lace bra. He kisses the top of your breast but doesn't quite reach where you want his lips to be. He's left plenty of marks across your chest already and leaves a dark hickey on your breast before putting your shirt back the way it was.

"Who's the tease now?" You're frustrated at this point. He pulls back a bit to look at the marks he left on your chest and neck, obviously proud of himself. He's going too slow for your liking, so you feel brave enough to take your shirt off yourself, loving the way he's eyeing you as you unhook your bra, letting the straps fall off your shoulders but still holding the bra up. You spread your legs even further apart and Jaehyun swears he could throw you on the bed right now and have his way with you. But he wants to take it slow and make you beg for it. He wants to see you writhing with pleasure underneath him, needy for his touch,

"Take your shirt off, Jae" you fake pout at him, knowing he's just as eager to get the real party started.

"You take it off for me," he says, knowing you'll have to let go of your bra to take his shirt off. He wants to see all of you and he wants to see it now. You reach for him and run your hands underneath his shirt, caressing his toned abs and reveling in the way they feel under your fingers. Your bra falls completely off at this point and you throw it on the desk, pulling Jaehyun's shirt off soon after. If you thought he looked good underneath the moonlight before, he manages to look even better now. You can't believe this is actually happening. You tug on the waistband of his pants, pulling him closer and wrapping your legs around him.

"You're so pretty, baby" he says, looking into your eyes before he kisses you again. You grab his face and deepen the kiss, taking charge this time, wanting him to know how much you want and need him. He suddenly hoists you up and you yelp, holding onto him by his neck. He throws you on the bed, knocking the wind out of you. He grabs your ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed, kneeling on the floor. You sit up on your elbows, watching Jaehyun as he tugs on your skirt, silently asking if he can take it off.

"Do whatever you want to me, Jaehyun." You don't know where this bold statement came from, but you've got this playful look in your eyes and Jaehyun is ready to make you regret saying that.

"Fuck, you're so hot. You don't know what you do to me." He takes your skirt off, leaving your panties on. He spreads your legs and starts kissing your inner thighs, sending tingles up your spine. He maintains eye contact with you, inching closer to your core, making sure you watch his every move. His large hands keep a hard grip on your thighs and you're getting wetter with each second. Your hand slides down your body, squeezing your breast as a little tease for him, rolling your nipple between your fingers. He continues to leave kisses on your thighs, ignoring where you want him most. You slide your hand under your panties, making sure Jaehyun is watching you this time.

"This is what you do to me," you tease. You're so wet, you can hear the slick as you rub your clit, making Jaehyun growl, listening to you pleasure yourself. If he wasn't going to do anything, you'd just have to do it yourself. Your other hand pulls your panties to the side, exposing your dripping core to him. His eyes become darker as he watches you slide two fingers in with ease. You're so riled up and wet, you don't even need to be prepared. You finger yourself as he watches in between your thighs, giving him a show you know he can't resist. It makes you feel good, knowing he's watching you get off to him. You close your eyes and imagine it's his fingers in you, touching you instead. Better yet, you imagine he's pounding into you nice and slow. You can't wait for him to stop teasing you and to touch you where you need him.

As you're imagining him fucking you, you bite your lip and moan his name softly, trying to turn him on even more. Jaehyun loves the way you look right now. Legs spread, panties to the side, marks all over your neck, chest rising as you breathe hard imagining him inside you right now. He watches your fingers move in and out of your core, your juices coating your fingers and your sex. He thought he could tease you, but you're doing a better job at it than he is. He can't wait any more.

While you're lost in your thoughts, Jaehyun quickly removes your hand from your core and brings it to his lips. He licks everything off your fingers, loving the way you look at him with those innocent eyes. His own eyes roam every inch of your body before he kneels back down. He decides not to take your panties off - there's something so sexy to him about keeping them on. He pulls them to the side and replaces your fingers with his own.

You can't help but let out a loud gasp when he pushes two fingers in. They're much bigger and longer than your own, reaching your sweet spot better than you can. He curls them in a 'come hither' motion as he pumps them in and out, making you buck your hips up from the pleasure. Your elbows are about to give out from sitting up for so long. Suddenly, his lips attack your clit and you fall back on the bed, unable to keep yourself up any longer. Your thighs close in response to him licking and sucking your clit.

"Spread your legs baby, I wanna make you feel good." You don't know if you can keep them open, but you try to do what he says. As he continues pleasuring you with his fingers and his sinful tongue, you let out soft moans and whimpers.

"Fuck, Jae you're so good," you say breathlessly. Your hands are gripping the bedsheets so tightly, needing something to hold on to. When he slips a third finger in, you moan even louder, feeling so full.

"Does that feel good?" You can only whimper as a response, too immersed in the pleasure he's giving you to get your words out. He pulls his fingers out and licks long stripes up your core, spreading your juices all over his tongue and chin. He's watching you intently from between your thighs, seeing the way you can't control yourself and noticing how hard you're gripping the sheets. You say something he can't really make out, and he stops his ministrations for a bit, asking you to repeat what you said. He loves how he's only finger fucked you and ate you for a bit, but you're a mess for him already. 

"I want you," you say louder, opening your eyes to look at him. He knows what you mean but he wants you to really beg for it.

"What do you mean baby? What more do you want? You have to tell me." Fuck, how's he gonna call you a tease when he acts like this? He stands up, wiping your wetness from his chin but keeping his fingers on your clit, rubbing in circles. The pleasure on your clit is too much and you let out another loud moan.

"You sound so good moaning for me, I love it." "You're killing me Jae," you cry, so frustrated that he won't get the hint.

You grab his hand, pulling it away from your clit. You move to get on all fours, facing him at the edge of the bed and pulling his fingers into your mouth. You taste yourself on him and lick every inch of him clean, moaning when you see the way he's looking down at you. You look so sexy and so fucked out when he hasn't even properly fucked you yet.

He pulls his hand away from your mouth and caresses your cheek, thinking of all the ways he wants to ruin you. You nuzzle your cheek into his hand, enjoying the soft touch of his palm. The soft touch doesn't last long before he's gripping your hair again and pulling you up to look at him.

"I wasn't done with you yet. You're so impatient baby girl." You whimper when his grip on your hair tightens, but your pussy clenches, loving the way he's talking to you and being rough with you. You reach for him, palming him through his pants. He's so hard but he's been focusing on pleasuring you, you just want to return the favor.

"But I want to make you feel good too," you bat your lashes at him, unbuttoning his pants slowly. He doesn't stop you, so you keep going, pushing his pants and boxers down, his dick springing forward. He's bigger than you imagined and you lick your lips, ready to take him in your mouth. You grab him from the base, slowly pumping your hand up and down his member. You stick your tongue out for him and slap his dick against your tongue, showing him how needy you are to suck him off, and he can't say no to that. He moans softly when your warm mouth wraps around his tip, sliding down his length until you can't take any more. You can only take half of his dick, so your hand continues to pump and you bob your head up and down, trying to make him feel as good as he did with you.

He's lost in the way your mouth wraps around him, sucking him like no one has ever done before. Your pretty lips wrapped around his dick, leaving a trail of spit is definitely a sight to see and he wishes he could keep this image of you on your knees for him forever. He doesn't want you to stop but he wants to finally be inside you, giving you what you've both been craving for.

"I'm gonna cum in your mouth if you keep going baby," he throws his head back and closes his eyes, hands gripping your hair harder and guiding you up and down. You pull him out of your mouth with a pop, slapping his dick against your tongue again and looking at him with doe eyes.

"Are you gonna fuck me now?" You can't hide the playful tone and excitement in your voice.

Jaehyun loves how eager you are for him, and he wants you just as bad. He pushes you back onto the bed, climbing on top of you and kisses you. You wiggle your panties off, both of you now naked and turned on beyond belief. He trails more kisses along your chest and breasts, finally taking a nipple into his mouth. He sucks and plays with both breasts, biting down and making you yelp.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard baby, you won't want me to stop. But I wanna hear you beg for it first." You can't believe he's still teasing you, he's insufferable.

To make it any more obvious you want him, you spread your legs wide, letting him get a good view of your wet core. You touch yourself again, rubbing your clit as he watches you incredulously.

"Fuck me please, Jae? I want you so bad baby," you say in your best sultry voice.

He moans, going crazier for you and enjoying the way you're begging for him. He pushes your legs towards your chest and slides himself along your slit, gathering your juices before he pushes in slowly. You both let out a sigh of pleasure as he continues to ease in.

"Oh fuck, you're so big," you cry out, not used to him being in you yet.

"You're so fucking tight," he moans, holding himself back in case he hurts you. He makes slow, shallow thrusts, trying to take it slow and enjoy the way your core grips him perfectly.

"Harder," you whisper, but he heard it loud and clear. He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head, pulling out to the tip and pushing back in quickly. His hips snap against your thighs quickly, making you moan loudly, the hard thrusts making you see stars. You bite your lip, trying to quiet yourself before someone hears. But with the way Jaehyun is fucking you, that seems almost impossible to do.

"You like that baby?" he says above you, knowing you absolutely love it. He watches as he moves in and out of your core, slick with your juices and making it easier to slide in and out of you, giving it to you just the way you like it.

He slaps your thigh and you whimper. "I asked you a question."

"Fuck, yes I love it," you moan, feeding his ego and making him fuck you even harder just to hear you cry out for him. He watches you as you squirm underneath him, hips meeting his own thrusts. He leans down and sucks your nipple, biting a little less than gently, shooting even more pleasure through your body. His hands grip the back of your thighs tightly, pushing them towards your chest to keep you wide open for him.

"You're such a little slut for me, aren't you?" He whispers in your ear, your moans sounding like music to him.

Instead of answering his question, you grab one of his hands and place it over your throat, begging him with your eyes. He smirks and gets the hint, gripping your throat to give you the pleasure you wanted. Your hand holds onto his wrist as your mouth falls open and moans pour out, loving the way his hand is pressing against your throat. He pushes his thumb into your mouth and you suck on it without thinking, giving him your best bedroom eyes.

"You're driving me crazy, I can't get enough of you."

He pulls out quickly and grabs your hips, flipping you onto your stomach. He pulls your ass up, making an almost painful arch in your back and you rest on your elbows as he slides back in.

He fucks you relentlessly, making your eyes roll back. The new position has him hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, and you can't stop telling him how good he feels and how you love it when he fucks you. He grabs a handful of your hair and pulls your body up, hips still snapping into you roughly. The grip he has on your waist is sure to leave marks but you're too fucked out to care.

"This pussy was made for me wasn't it? You're taking me so well baby girl," his grip on your hair is painfully delicious, and you turn your head to look at him. He's sweaty, brows furrowed, eyes full of lust as he watches the way your ass bounces with every thrust he makes.

"Anything for you daddy," you say with a playful smile. Something snaps in Jaehyun, and he pushes you back down onto the bed, fucking you even harder than he has been. You didn't think it was possible, but he's proving you wrong. You're on the verge of crying from how hard he's pounding into you, the pleasure getting too much as he brings you close to your high.

"You can take it right? You're my good girl," he leans down, pressing kisses to your back.

"Make me take it," you say without missing a beat. He feels so good in you and you don't want him to stop. He slaps your ass hard, and you're caught off guard, letting out a loud moan. He can tell you like it, so he does it again, even harder this time. That's definitely gonna leave a mark.

"I'm close baby," he moans, feeling the way you tighten around him, signaling that you're close too. He flips you onto your back again, sliding back in and rubbing your clit. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear, trying to coax your high out of you. A few seconds later, you feel an intense orgasm rush over you as Jaehyun continues to fuck you. The overstimulation on your clit has you bucking your hips up, unable to take the sensivitity.

"Ah fuck, I'm gonna cum, your pussy feels so good."

"Cum on my face," you tell him, biting your lip at the thought.

"Get on your knees," he demands as he pulls out, waiting for you to sit on your knees at the edge of the bed. He steps down from the bed onto the floor and pumps himself quickly, saving a mental image of you with your tongue out, waiting for his cum like the good girl you are.

He closes his eyes and moans loudly as he reaches his high, his release streaming down your face and some landing in your mouth. He watches as you swallow what you can, in disbelief of how perfect you are.

"You look so pretty with my cum on your face," he says, taking in your fucked out state and that beautiful smile you give him.

As you both clean up and get dressed, you hear a knock on the door.

"Y/N? Are you in there?" You can tell it's one of your friends and you're dreading what she might say when she sees you in the room with Jaehyun. He gives you a quick smack on your ass before you open the door.

"What were you doing?" She asks, eyeing both of you up and down.

You and Jaehyun look at each other and smile as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him.

"Nothing much, just catching up."

[bqstqnbruin]

Always be my plus one - part 3

Ok, look, it's 4 am, there are going to be typos, and we're just going to have to deal with it. I also tried to find a gif that was Tyson and Cale but I couldn't find one in the gif insert thing on here so I just went with this one (it feels weird to change it up but like, oops)

I make no promises that you aren't going to be mad at me for this part so have fun !

This is shorter than the last part, coming in at around 5k words.

The only warnings I have here are implied sex.

Translations for the Italian in here: "tu sei uno stronzo" - you're an ass(hole)

stronzino - little asshole

Also want to thank @justjosty @zinka8 @hockeylvr59 @hockeywocs anons and I'm sure I'm forgetting people for helping me write this part but ily all I'm just dumb and tired

Read the previous part here!

Series masterlist

____________________

Valentine’s Day

The Feast Day of St. Valentine is traditionally celebrated in the Western Catholic Church on February 14, to honor the patron saint of love. Though not traditionally celebrated as a Catholic holiday, millions of people celebrate the day of love with those who mean the most to them. While pessimists of the day say it’s a ‘holiday made up by greeting card companies,’ approximately 190 million Valentine’s Day cards are sent in the United States alone, not including cards given by school children to their classmates. Couples enjoy the holiday with a romantic night out, presents, flowers, chocolates, etc., while those who don’t have someone or don’t care do whatever they want without the pressure of living up to a holiday that doesn’t mean very much in the grand scheme of things.

=============

February 12, 2022

“Where are you going tonight?” Matthew’s voice came through his younger sister’s phone. He had called early in the week to see if Anne could babysit Harper so he and Stephanie could do something for Valentine’s Day without having to shell out an extravagant amount of money on a sitter.

“I’m, uh,” Anne hesitates, “going out with Tyson. Sorry.” She hears Matthew let out a sigh on the other end. “Hey, stronzo, why don’t you ask Lucy? Her and Jason never do anything on Valentine’s Day.”

Matthew starts talking about how the last time he asked Lucy last minute to watch his daughter, despite their girls being best friends, she ended up going on a fifteen-minute rant. While Anne gets her heels on, staring at herself in the mirror and admiring the floor-length, red dress she had on the slit going up the side for no one but herself, Matthew continues to tell her about how his twin goes on and on about needing a schedule at all times, how she can’t just drop everything in a moment’s notice because he wants to do something with his wife.

“Hey, Matthew,” she cuts him off, trying to shrug her coat on, “Why didn’t you ask Lucy or Sebby after I said no earlier this week?”

“Because I didn’t think you actually had plans.”

“Again, tu sei uno stronzo.”

“I am not an ass!” he detests.

“Fine, you’re a stronzino, happy?” Anne hears him stammer again, not letting him get a word in, “I have to go, I’ll talk to you later, ok? Ask Ma, Dad’s off in Florida right now so she would probably love to have Harper for the night.”

He lets out another sigh, Stephanie’s voice coming through in the background despite Anne’s inability to understand what she was saying. “Fine. Have fun with Tyson. I don’t need another niece or nephew around Halloween, though, ok?”

“Don’t be gross,” she says, hanging up and finally heading out the door.

Her cousin Adriana was getting married to her soon-to-be wife, Izzy. Her family had no idea that she was the only one who still talked to them, her mother having a fight with her brother after their parents died when Anne and her siblings were younger and vowing to never talk to him again. So far, the stubbornness that seems to run through her mom’s blood going strong since it had been over a decade since she had last seen her brother. Anne was invited to Uncle Frankie’s daughter’s wedding, but no one else in her family.

Adriana and Izzy had this Valentine’s Day-themed wedding, everyone asked to wear red or pink in theme with the holiday, Anne not doubting that there would be paper hearts and cut-out cupids as the decor. The wedding gift she bought them, one of the first things she found on their registry that Anne could afford, was shipped to the apartment they already shared two weeks ago, Anne just needing to remember the card.

She was fully prepared to just sit in the corner with a bunch of people she didn’t know and watch as her cousin got married to the love of her life. Anne wasn’t sure that that side of her family would recognize her after how many years, guaranteeing her to spend her time on the sideline.

Anne slips into the back of the church, seeing no one she knew or recognized to even go up to and sit with them. Everyone was dressed in red, pink, and black. A bit too much for her own taste, but at least she looked good in red and would have worn the color anyway. ‘Note to self, no themed weddings,’ Anne thinks, not particularly fond of the lack of color or real choice that everyone had in figuring out what to wear.

A blonde boy in a red suit walks by her, too far past her to get a good look at him. There was something about him that caught her attention. Anne knew that walk, but she had no idea where she knew it from. It didn’t stop her from admiring him from afar, though, the short blonde hair and the obviously fit physique under the suit captivated her for whatever reason, leaving her practically unable to pay attention to the ceremony in front of her. Not that she cared, at this point she was just there to enjoy the free food she knew would be good at the reception later.

Anne sat at the table against the wall, her cousin not bothering to make a seating chart and just leaving it up to the guests to sit where they pleased. That meant she didn’t have to talk to anyone she didn’t want to, being virtually left alone at a wedding where she knew no one.

“Anne?” a familiar voice snaps her out of the trance she fell into watching Ana’s sister and brother-in-law, Catie and Danny dancing with their two daughters, remembering seeing their pictures on Facebook when they were born, not realizing how much they had grown.

She turns to the man in the red suit who had her attention throughout the ceremony. “Cale?” she smiles at him, not sure how the two had missed they would be at the same wedding this weekend. Since New Year's Eve, the two of them had been texting, calling, FaceTiming, they had hung out, spent the night with each other, Cale insisting he buy her dinner at least once a week. The only reason they weren’t dating each other was because neither of them had said they were. They both said they were busy this weekend, but who would have thought they would end up at the same place. “What are you doing here?”

“Izzy’s brother and I grew up playing hockey together. I grew up with her. What are you doing?” he asks her, taking the seat next to her.

“Ana’s my cousin. Her dad is my mom’s older brother.”

Cale smiles at her, Anne’s heart racing at the sight of it. “So I get to meet your family?”

Anne shakes her head. “I’m the only one here,” she tells him, explaining the family drama that went on between Frankie and Teresa.

Cale looks down at his lap, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his suit jacket. The red bowtie, red pants, red jacket even against the black shirt were so much Anne couldn’t tell if his cheeks were red because of the reflection of his clothes or for another reason. “Tyson’s met your family, hasn’t he?”

She nods, taking his hand in hers. “I told you, Tyson and I are just friends. I needed someone to come with me to a family thing, so he came with me.” Cale nods, not entirely sure that something wasn’t up with her and Tyson. Something was off, there was something he was sure Anne was leaving out, but he wasn’t sure. “Hey, I’ve seen Tyson, what, three times since New Year's? All of them when I was with you. I like you, Cale.”

Cale leans over for a kiss, his hand grazing Anne’s thigh, sending a shiver down her spine. “How about we dance like we did on New Year's?” he asks, standing from the seat, shrugging off the red jacket before he extended his hand out to her.

She rolls her eyes, getting up with him anyway. “I told you then, too, that I don’t like dancing.”

“And yet,” he says, pulling her close, his hand finding the small of her back while he presses his forehead against hers, gazing into her eyes, “you danced with me all night then, and you got up to dance with me tonight.”

Anne laughs, knowing he was right, burying her face in his shoulder, swearing she heard some camera’s clicking, probably the wedding photographer hanging around somewhere and taking pictures of the guests dancing.

“I know I have to say this about the brides when they come in,” Cale whispers in her ear, “but you are the most beautiful girl here.”

Anne could feel herself blushing, her mind flashing back to New Year’s Eve when Tyson told her she looked beautiful. He seemed so genuine saying it, Anne thinking back and not sure if he meant it or was actually pretending. But with Cale, she knew. Cale meant it. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she tells him, ghosting his lips before kissing him.

Being with Cale felt fine. Not perfect, but fine. It was right, but not correct, and Anne couldn’t figure out why.

Everyone starts clearing off the dance floor, the bridal party getting ready to come in. Cale takes Anne’s hand and leads her back to the table where he left his jacket, some other people finding their home base at the same table. Cale knew one of the men at the table, probably from their little hockey group that involved Izzy’s brother. The bridesmaids and bridesmen, as the DJ put it, started coming in, Cale leaning back with his arm slung around the back of Anne’s chair. She leaned back into him, his fingertips dancing up and down her arm as they watched everyone come in.

They watched Ana and Izzy dance their first one as wives, Anne’s stomach starting to make noise as they waited for the food to come.

Cale leans over, nervous about what he was about to whisper in her ear. “Are you hungry for food or maybe something more?”

Anne felt her entire body go numb at his words. They had been seeing each other for a month and a half already, so was what he was insinuating really that strange of an idea? “That depends.”

“On?” he asks, nibbling on her ear before kissing the skin right behind it, losing any sense of care over who at their table was potentially watching.

“On how long you think we need to wait before we can slip out without it being rude?”

Cale inhaled sharply, wishing he could say right now. “At least until they cut the cake. Unless,” he says, his hand moving up her thigh, slowly in case she decided she wanted it to stop, “Unless you wanted to try to find somewhere to sneak away to now.”

“Not for our first time,” she tells him, reaching up to cup his cheek. “And not with my family around,” she laughs.

“I’m fine with that,” he tells her, kissing her. “Your place or mine, though?”

“Well, I drove myself here.”

“And I got a ride.”

Anne smiles, crossing her legs in hopes that whatever she felt would be stifled by that simple action. “So it looks like it’s going to be mine.”

They spent the rest of the night waiting for the moment the cake was cut so they could leave as planned, Cale’s hand never leaving her leg unless he really needed both hands to do something.

Anne could feel her heart racing as she watched Ana and Izzy smash their cake in each other’s face, Anne looking over to Cale and smiling. “You wanna go?” she asks, her keys already out of her bag and in her hand.

Cale drags her out without saying a word, Anne leading him to her car. He walks over to the driver’s side, his arms wrapped around her waist with her back pressed against her car. “You’re sure about this?” he asks her, his eyes flicking between hers and her lips.

“Yeah,” she says, kissing him before he opens the door for her. She couldn’t wait to get home, sure she broke a few traffic laws as she sped back to her apartment with Cale sitting next to her in the passenger seat, his leg shaking the entire time.

They got to the elevator, Cale leaning against her against the wall with his lips pressed against hers, Anne’s hands already working to unbutton his shirt. Cale’s kisses trailed down her jaw to her collarbone, his grip tightening on her waist.

Anne pulled away to lead him down the hallway, practically running, partially due to anticipation for what they were about to do, and because Anne could feel a breeze on her back, indicating that Cale had already unzipped her dress. That, coupled with the fact that Cale’s shirt was already open, his jacket in his free hand, Anne had no desire for any of her neighbors to be given the chance to see her and however Cale was to her already getting naked before closing the door.

As soon as she unlocked her door, Cale had her turned back around, kicking the door closed as he carried her to her bedroom, Anne able to feel everything about him against her body. Cale laid her down on her bed, his lips never leaving hers as he positioned himself over her, sliding her dress off while she did the same with his shirt. Anne’s breath hitched at the sight of him, his body perfect while he stared her down, the first time she saw the typically innocent boy she had been seeing with a mischievous grin covering his face, his eyes darkening at the thought of doing what they had both been wanting to do all night.

“You’re sure about this?” he asks one more time.

Anne nods, taking his face in her hands. “Yes, Cale. I’m sure.”

=============

February 13, 2022

Anne woke up the next morning, the events of the night before rushing back despite finding the space he had occupied in her bed empty. Her dress was on the floor, Cale’s red bowtie somehow having ended up on her night stand. Maybe he left it there as an excuse to see her again, making a mental note to put it in the living room so she would remember it the next time she saw him.

He had slipped out at some point that morning, Anne playing the voicemail that he left her while she slipped on a t-shirt to cover herself. “Hey, Anne. Sorry, I couldn’t stay, but morning skate was calling. I,” she hears him sigh, knowing he had a stupid grin on his face for whatever it was he was about to say, “I can’t wait to have another night like last night with you.”

It was her turn to have the stupid smile on her face as Cale continues, “Um, anyway, I’ve got something going on with JT and some of the other guys tomorrow for Valentine’s Day, a, uh, charity thing? I think? So would you be free this weekend for a proper date for the holiday? You know, not as crowded, not as much pressure, ideally the same outcome, if you’ll allow it? Oh, hey Tyson,” she hears him say, figuring that he was calling her on the way into the rink despite her being unable to hear Tyson. “Yeah, I’m planning Valentine’s Day with Anne. No, not tomorrow night, this weekend. Uh, Anne, I’ve gotta go, but let me know about, say, Friday night? Alright, talk to you later. Bye.”

Valentine’s Day date with Cale? Part two, more like, but still. Anne liked the sound of that.

“So, uh,” Tyson starts, already dreading what he was about to hear from his teammate given what he had heard him say into his phone. “You and Anne?��

“Yeah,” Cale breathes out, chuckling at the thought of what happened last night. “We, um,” Cale couldn’t even get a full sentence out, acting like a child who just got the toy he had been begging his parents for on Christmas morning. He couldn’t remember the last time he was that happy. “We spent the night together last night. I left from her place this morning.”

More of their teammates were filtering into the locker room, looking at Cale’s face turn bright red while Tyson stood there with him looking like he just about wanted to die. “Ok, but did you spend the night, or spend the night?” Ryan asks.

Cale started to stammer out nonsense, not really wanting to divulge the private details of his and Anne’s night despite the guys teasing him and congratulating him for what he wasn’t saying.

“Guys, keep it civil. Anne wouldn’t want us talking about any of this,” Tyson pipes in, Cale letting out a sigh of relief as the guys disperse to get ready for morning skate.

“Thanks,” Cale tells him, going off on his own to get his gear on.

JT appears by Tyson’s side, a stupid smirk on his face. “Would Anne not want us talking about anything, or would you not want us talking about anything?”

“Well, Anne definitely wouldn’t.”

“Oh, come on, we both know Cale would never.”

“Doesn’t mean I want him to have the chance.”

“You’re treading in deep water, dude,” JT sighs.

Tyson looks at him, hating that he knew what he meant. He had barely seen Anne, despite her brother’s texts from the night before asking if Anne really couldn’t watch Harper because of the two of them going out, Tyson going along with the lie just in case. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“It seems like you don’t know what you want from Anne, either,” JT shrugs. “But Cale does, and he got it.”

=============

February 14, 2022

12 hour shifts were the only shifts Anne knew. And they were the shifts that Anne detested the most. She was fine the first ten hours, but the last two always seemed to suck more than anything, leaving her exhausted for the rest of the day, into the night, depending on when she got home in the first place.

All she wanted to do was order dinner from the Thai place down the street, having it delivered despite her really not needing to since it was within walking distance, plop herself on her couch and watch whatever reality TV Lucy had texted her that she thought Anne would like. Anne knew she would turn it off after a single episode and switch to Food Network, but at least she could tell her sister she tried.

Anne walks to her apartment, dragging her feet to her door when she sees someone sitting on the ground, his head down looking at his phone. “Tyson?”

He gets up, grabbing the two bags he had with him as the smell of food filled her nose. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my fake girlfriend,” he says, raising the bags while Anne opens the door to let him in.

“I’m confused,” she tells him as he sets everything down.

“Well, Matthew called me on Saturday asking if the two of us were sure we couldn’t watch his daughter, and I figured he might as well have some sort of photographic evidence as proof of us spending Valentine’s Day together,” Tyson explains. “So, I figured I’d go all out: flowers, dinner, and a present. You know, really convince them that we’re together.”

Anne stares at him for a second, not sure why her heart was racing at the thought of him going out of his way to keep up this facade with her family. “I don’t think I like that you and Matthew are so ‘buddy-buddy.’ Or that fact that he didn’t believe me the first two times I told him I was busy on Saturday night. And I thought that you guys had a charity thing tonight?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Tyson asks, handing her the container of food as she joined him on the couch, the Thai food she was planning on ordering right in front of her. “We have a groupchat. Yeah, it’s me, Sebby, Lucy, and Matthew.”

Anne scoffs, rolling her eyes at his failed attempt at a joke. “And let me guess: you gossip about me the entire time.”

“Actually,” he says, his mouth full of food, “you never come up. They think of me as the fourth sibling. The name Anne means nothing.”

Anne laughs, Tyson admiring the way her eyes closed as her smile grew. God, he wished he had gotten to her before Cale did. Why did he have to leave her alone at all on New Year’s Eve? If he were by her side the entire night like he had wanted to be, then he wouldn’t have to pretend to be her boyfriend, he could actually be getting somewhere with her.

“Hm,” Anne hums, swallowing her mouthful of food. “You said flowers and a present. When do I get those?”

“You can get them now on the condition that I can take a video to send to your siblings,” he offers, pulling out his phone and pushing the bag with the flowers and gift behind him. Anne rolls her eyes, smiling and nodding while he starts the video. He hands her the card first. “Read it.”

Anne pulls it out of the envelope, glitter getting everywhere and making her cringe, knowing that it would be impossible to get off her scrubs later on. It was covered with roses and hearts, bringing her right back to the wedding that weekend. “No one has ever made me feel like this. To the woman I love: Happy Valentine’s Day,” Anne reads, feeling a lump forming in her throat. The card was so corny, a little too corny for her taste, but coming from Tyson, she didn’t know why she loved it. She shakes her head, laughing at Tyson. “I love you, too,” she lies.

Tyson swallows hard at her words, wishing she meant them, pulling out the flowers from the bag and handing them to her. She looks down at the flowers, trying to figure out what they are before looking up at him. “Queen Anne’s Lace?”

“Queen Anne’s Lace for my Queen, Anne,” he tells her, cringing at his own words.

Anne giggles, placing them in her lap. “And my favorite flowers, anyway. Thank you, Tyson.”

“Wait, I have one more thing,” he says, hoping that the camera wasn’t shaking too much while he reached for the gift he bought her.

He hands it to her, a small red box wrapped with a gold bow. She unties it carefully, opening the box and gasping at the sight of it. A golden necklace with a white enamel heart as the charm, a golden pattern outlining the heart. “Tyson, it’s,” she starts, unable to find the words, “it’s beautiful.”

He stops the recording, figuring he had enough to hit send to his ‘girlfriend's' siblings. “Let me put it on you,” he says, Anne turning around and moving her hair out of the way. “I thought you would like it.”

Anne studies his face, the smile plastered on it despite her knowing that he didn’t mean it. “You didn’t have to do this.”

He shrugs, grabbing his food off the table and staring at it now in his lap. “It was fun. I’ve never had a girlfriend who I could buy presents like this for. I mean, I still don’t, but I have you.”

“Oh, come on. You, Tyson Jost, have never had a girlfriend? Look at you,” she says, praying that she was careful with the words she chose. “You’re gorgeous, you’re sweet, you’re funny, you get along with everyone you meet.”

Tyson hated hearing Anne go on about him, knowing that she was just saying it as a friend instead of something more. He scoffs, trying to save face from whatever pain or other emotion he was feeling. “Come on,” he says, not believing her anyway.

“I’m serious!” she insists, reaching up and starting to fidget with her new necklace. “Any girl would be lucky to have you as her boyfriend. I’m lucky to even have you as a fake boyfriend.”

Tyson nods, turning his body to face the TV instead of Anne. “So what are we watching?” he asks, changing the subject and putting his feet up on the table, Anne doing the same.

“Whatever’s on Food Network?” she suggests, holding the remote in the air pointed at the TV.

The two of them settle in, Tyson not paying attention to the show she had turned on. “Hey, what’s that?” Tyson asks, racing over to the red fabric that was on Anne’s coffee table.

“Oh,” Anne blushes, taking it from Tyson. “This is Cale’s. He, um, let it the other night,” she explains, Tyson watching her turn his teammates bowtie over in her hands.

“So you and Cale are doing pretty well?” he asks. Anne looks at him, not sure if she really wanted to tell him about it. “Come on, we’re friends. You can talk to me about anything.”

“I mean,” she says, putting down the bowtie on the table, not taking her eyes off of it. “We’re together? I think?” Tyson already hated that he even offered to listen to her talk about her and his teammate. “I like him. A lot. And I know he likes me, but,” Anne lets out a sigh, not sure where to even take her sentence.

“But, what?” Tyson asks.

“I don’t know,” she shakes her head, looking confused. “Everything is great, but it’s, I,” she stammers. “Something is off, and I can’t figure out what.”

Tyson stares at her for a second, trying to figure out what to say. “It’s probably just that it’s new,” he shrugs. “Everything seems weird when you’re still figuring it out. You and Cale will be ok,” he tells her, hating hearing those words come out of his mouth.

=============

February 19, 2022

Anne stared at herself in the mirror, the black turtleneck she borrowed from her sister coupled with a beige skirt and black tights on her as she got ready for her date with Cale. He was bound to show up any minute, promising each other they weren’t going to do gifts due to a general lack of time on both ends. She didn’t believe that he wasn’t going to get her a gift, however, sneaking out to the bakery down the street and buying some pastries that the two of them would like, giving them an excuse to both show up back at her apartment. And if he didn’t give her a gift, then she got the pastries all to herself.

If not, she could share them with Tyson, who had been showing up at her place or asking her to go to his place any free chance they both had.

She heard Cale knocking at her door, Anne rushing as fast as she could in her heels to answer. Cale was standing there, a black crewneck similar to her own turtleneck, paired with dark jeans, black boots, and a grey coat. Cale kisses her hello, one hand behind his back with the other resting on her hip. “Every time I see you I don’t think you could get more beautiful, and yet, you do.”

“You’re cheesy,” she jokes as he kisses her forehead, Cale laughing against her skin. “But you,” Anne says, resting her hands on his chest, “get more handsome every time I see you, too. And, you’re hiding a present behind your back, aren’t you, even though we said no presents.”

Cale laughs, closing the door behind him. “Maybe I saw this and had to get it for you,” he admits, kissing her again and holding up the bag near her head.

“Should I open it now or should I do it later when we come back here?” she flirts, holding the bag in her hand.

“Oh, we’re coming back here?” he teases her, trailing kisses down her neck.

“I might have gotten some dessert for us so we had an excuse to relive last Saturday. Plus, you left your bowtie here,” she gestures to it, still sitting on her table, “And I was thinking maybe you wear that tonight instead of keeping it off?”

Cale raises his eyebrow at her, a silly smile on his face. “And what else would I be wearing?”

Anne shrugs, pretending to act innocent. “I was thinking only the bowtie,” she tells him, feeling his grip around her tighten at the thought.

Cale kisses her again, unable to keep his hands off the girl in front of him. If he could, he would forget dinner altogether and just go straight to dessert, but he knew Anne wasn’t that kind of girl, and he wasn’t about to force her into anything she didn’t want. “Hey, I like that necklace you’re wearing,” he says, twirling the charm around in his fingers. “The heart is perfect for Valentine’s Day.”

She reaches up and takes his hand in hers. “Thanks. My sister got it for me a few years ago for my birthday,” she lies. She couldn’t tell him that Tyson had gotten it for her for Valentine’s Day.

[chickwiththepurpleguitar]

congrats on 500!!! 🥳

can i request boggie (romantic or platonic) and “can i hold your hand?” 🥺

Thanks bestie!! This is my longest prompt fill so far lol, it kind of got away from me. This is my very first time writing Boggie, and my first time writing in Reggie’s POV, so have fun. Also you asked for sensory overload Bobby but I didn’t think I could do that justice so I did migraine Bobby instead. This technically takes place in my headcanon universe of my longfic, but you don’t need to have read that to understand this. Hope you like it!

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Bobby’s gone.

Reggie doesn’t think anyone but him has noticed yet. Luke and Alex are too busy arguing with each other (good-naturedly, with no real anger or malice; Reggie can always tell the difference, without even having to pay attention to what they’re arguing about, though this time he’s pretty sure it has something to do with which color m&m is superior).

But anyway, Luke and Alex aren’t paying attention to anything but each other, and Bobby slipped out twenty minutes ago with a pained expression and a mumbled excuse and he hasn’t come back yet, and apparently only Reggie has noticed.

He’s not sure what he should do about it, though. Reggie likes Bobby—he’s a great guitar player, and his movie collection is unparalleled, and one time when Reggie showed up at school with a black eye, Bobby got suspended for two weeks because he decked a guy who tried to make fun of Reggie for it—but as much as Reggie would like him and Bobby to be friends, it can’t be denied that Bobby is… well… Luke’s. And not just because Luke is even more touchy-feely with Bobby than he is with everyone else, or because Luke spends every other night sharing Bobby’s bed because he has nightmares (something Reggie doesn’t think he’s actually supposed to know), or because whenever Luke and Bobby are in a room together, they can’t stop looking at each other. But also because the only reason Bobby joined the band in the first place was because he was there for Luke when Reggie and Alex weren’t. He was Luke’s best friend when Reggie failed to be.

And Reggie hates to take sides (especially because Luke once got really mad at him and literally accused him of taking sides), but if Luke is on Bobby’s and Alex is sorta vaguely not, Reggie feels like he’s kind of statistically obligated to balance it out. So as much as they’re all a band, and as much as Luke will always be Reggie’s first and best friend, and as much as Reggie would love to get closer to their rhythm guitarist, sometimes they just can’t help pairing off, and when they do, Sunset Curve becomes, well, Luke and Bobby—Reggie and Alex. 

But anyway. Reggie checks his watch. Bobby has now been gone twenty-five minutes, and Luke and Alex have moved on to discussing which animated m&m from the commercials they would date if given the option, and Reggie’s starting to get a little worried.

“Hey, guys?” he says, putting aside the bass he’d been sort of plucking at. “Can you shut up for a second?”

Luke and Alex immediately stop their bickering and turn to look at him, faces lit with matching concern. “Yeah, Reg?” Alex says gently.

“You okay, bro?”

Reggie manages a smile. They both know him so well. He gives a quick shake of his head to assure them he’s fine, their arguing wasn’t too much (later, once he’s sure Bobby’s okay, he might even put his two cents in, since the answer to both debates is obviously Green). “Do you know where Bobby went? He hasn’t come back yet.”

Alex frowns, and Luke looks around the studio as if he’s just then realizing that Bobby’s not still sitting on the couch next to him where he was half an hour ago.

“Where’d he go?” Luke gets up off the couch and clambers over the coffee table to cross the studio, past Reggie and Alex. He hauls open one of the doors and peers out into the driveway, then frowns back over his shoulder at them. “I don’t see him. He must’ve gone into the house.” A flash of something crosses his expression and he glances nervously from Reggie to Alex and back again. “I—I’d go look for him, but I don’t know if his parents are home, the car’s here.”

“I’ll go,” Reggie offers before it can become a thing, the fact that Bobby is Luke’s but Luke can’t even go after him when he leaves the studio because Luke is a missing person who Bobby’s parents don’t know lives in their garage.

“Thanks, Reg,” Luke says, and Reggie gives him a comforting pat on the shoulder as he passes.

Reggie doesn’t have to go far. He follows the path up from the driveway and catches sight of Bobby right away, sitting on his front porch with his face buried in his knees and his arms wrapped protectively around his head.

“Hey, there you are!” Reggie calls out without thinking, and then regrets it when Bobby’s head snaps up and he flinches with his whole body, a tiny whimper escaping his mouth just loud enough for Reggie to hear across the garden. Bobby’s face is so pale it’s almost green, and his eyes are hidden behind these thick dark sunglasses Reggie’s never seen him wear before.

Reggie’s heart lurches, and he hurries up the rest of the path. He sinks gently onto the porch step next to Bobby and asks as quietly as he can, “Bobby, what’s wrong?”

Bobby shoots him a shaky, unconvincing smile and whips his shades off. “Nothing, Reg, I’m—fuck.” Reggie gets half a glimpse of Bobby’s eyes—squinty and dull and full of so much pain—before Bobby goes another shade whiter, shoves his sunglasses back on, and presses his face into his lap with a groan.

Reggie’s concern spikes. He hovers a hand over Bobby’s shoulder, wanting to help but not sure if touching him when he’s like this will only make things worse. “Bobby? What—what’s going on with you, man? You’re scaring me.”

Bobby gives a miniscule shake of his head, still hidden in his folded arms. “I—it’s just… headache,” he mumbles, the words slow and slurred and muffled like even just opening his mouth too wide hurts him. He breathes heavily for a moment or two, then adds, “Really bad headache.”

“Oh.” Somehow, that’s… not what Reggie thought was happening here. Part of him relaxes some, even though his worry doesn’t lessen.

If Bobby were having a panic attack, like Alex gets sometimes, or one of those everything’s too much feelings that make it physically impossible for Luke to wear sleeves most days, then Reggie wouldn’t know what to do, how to help. Stuff like that is too personal, too individualized, and Reggie doesn’t know Bobby that well. But pain—physical pain—that, Reggie can deal with. That, Reggie knows all too well.

“Can I get you anything? What do you need?”

Bobby’s quiet for a moment, then: “Dark. Cold. Quiet… Maybe some medicine if I can keep it down.”

Reggie nods, even though he knows Bobby can’t see him. “We can do that. Is there a reason you were sitting out here in the first place? Probably easier to get dark and cold and quiet in your room, don’t you think?” He cranes his neck to see Bobby’s window above the porch roof. Reggie’s only been in there a handful of times, but if Bobby gets these headaches often, the blackout curtains on Bobby’s bedroom window suddenly make a lot more sense.

(Though, Reggie can’t help but wonder, if Bobby gets these headaches often, how has Reggie never noticed before?)

“Dizzy,” Bobby mumbles, and Reggie cuts his gaze sharply back to him. It takes a second to register that Bobby’s answering Reggie’s question and not necessarily describing how he feels now. “Couldn’t… stairs.” A pause thick enough for Reggie to get the sense there’s more, and then Bobby admits, his voice smaller than Reggie’s ever heard it, “Tried to ignore it too long. Been kinda coming on all day, but I didn’t wanna ruin rehearsal.”

Reggie’s heart gives a pang of sympathy. He makes a mental note to give Bobby a talk later, when he’s feeling better, about hiding stuff like this—and then maybe he’ll give Luke and Alex (and himself) a talk about whatever they did to make Bobby feel like he has to.

But all that can wait. For now, his only priority is getting Bobby settled in bed with all the lights off and an icepack on his head. “Okay, Bobby, I’m gonna get you inside so you can rest, okay? But can I try something first?”

Bobby stiffens. “Try what?”

Reggie’s heart’s beating a little too fast, though he’s not sure why. He swallows, tries to ignore the fact that he’s definitely blushing, and says, “Can I hold your hand?”

Bobby’s silent and still for so long that Reggie starts to worry he’s overstepped. But before he can figure out how to backtrack, Bobby grumbles something unintelligible into his lap and flops a hand in Reggie’s face. Reggie grabs it, hoping his own hands aren’t too sweaty, and expertly applies pressure to the point between the base of Bobby’s thumb and index finger.

The effect is almost instantaneous: Bobby shudders, and his muscles relax like a ripple going through him, and he slowly sits up and raises his head. Reggie can’t really read his expression with the sunglasses still on, but what he can see of Bobby’s face looks less pinched, less pained, and he’s gotten some of the color back in his cheeks.

He stares at Reggie, mouth hanging open, and breathes, “Whoa.”

Reggie blushes, self-conscious, but doesn’t stop gently massaging Bobby’s hand. “Better?”

Bobby nods. “How—how did you know how to do that?”

Reggie manages a sheepish smile. “My mom gets migraines. And, well, hangovers. So I’ve kinda picked up some tricks. Coffee really helps her, too, if you can stomach it.”

Bobby’s still staring at him, and Reggie swallows, his stomach giving a weird little flip that’s not exactly unpleasant. Finally, Bobby looks away and gingerly pulls his hand out of Reggie’s to rub at his temples. “Well, thanks, Reg, that really helped. I’m gonna go inside before it gets worse again. Can you, uh—”

“Yeah, yeah, no, I’ll—tell the guys… something.”

Bobby gives him a shy, grateful smile, and then slowly pushes himself to his feet.

When the front door closes behind Bobby, Reggie lets out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He feels jittery and out of breath, like he just drank seven sodas or ran a marathon or something. His hands are tingly where they’d touched Bobby’s, and he can’t get the image of that last little smile out of his head.

Bobby doesn’t smile very often, and when he does, it’s not like that.

(And if it is, it’s not at Reggie.)

Reggie mutters a curse and copies Bobby’s earlier position, his face hidden in his hands. Because he thinks he might like Bobby.

But Bobby is Luke’s.

sorry bestie

Send me a pairing and a prompt to celebrate my 500th follower!

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[liam-93-productions]

Liam’s full interview with Tings Magazine - Part 1

Note: the interview was recorded in may 2020.

Justin Campbell: What is the weirdest YouTube/Instagram trend hole that you’ve fallen into? Liam: One that always gets me is putting Mentos in Pepsi or Coke. We all know what happens, but we have to watch the ending. I’ve seen it about fifty times, and it doesn’t change. But it’s weird finding out what things are interesting when you’re stuck inside. It’s a crazy ride watching the world react to this. It’s almost like everybody’s become a street performer. You see these people on the street who have a special skill like magic and the internet is now the place for that and everybody does it. 

Do you feel pressured to participate? Is there currency in that? Does that keep you relevant? I think artists have had to change a lot to fit in. There used to be mystery where you didn’t know too much about their lives, whereas we are in my living room now for all the world to see. I think that’s the biggest change of these newer platforms. I think you have to join in if you want to stay relevant. If you look at someone like Jason Derulo, he has 19 million followers on TikTok and he just started. His old songs are re-charting because of the TikTok chart. So, you can’t just make music and expect it to go well anymore. There has to be a personality and a story. It’s not quite the same anymore. 

There’s so many differente avenues to keep up with. There’s Instagram, YouTube, TikTok. It used to be you did radio, tours and late-night television. Now there seem to be a dozen things to do.  It’s crazy, this last promo schedule for me, having to do it indoors. I had to learn how to do a bunch of different jobs for the people that couldn’t be here. We put up a green screen in my lounge. We moved all the sofas, me and the camera guy that is staying with me set up the green screen and then you have to film it as well. It’s just crazy the amount of different things that you have to get involved in right now to stay relevant. And that’s all it is. The majority of the stuff isn’t really doing anything, but it’s doing loads at the same time if that makes sense. It’s a difficult thing to get used. And also, things have gotten jovial. So, you have to learn to make fun of ourselves. You can’t be Mr. Serious pop-star anymore. People aren’t really attracted to that anymore. People like the fun side of you, your personality and your humor come through on these things. It’s crazy. I thought about when I joined TikTok the other week, there’s a pressure to film something fun. But then if you are not having fun filming it, you’re not going to film a fun video. And I didn’t want to live my life every day thinking I got to film a video or nobody is going to care. I spent an hour trying to think of stuff and I don’t want to live my life like this. I enjoy then. I like going on TikTok and getting lost in a little TikTok rabbit hole, we all do, but I don’t know if I’m that way inclined mentally. 

With the need to share more, to share a comedic side or a vulnerable side, where do you draw the line? When do you stop sharing? How much of it is constructed sharing and how much of it is authentic sharing? It’s difficult. I’m very prone to enjoy a moment rather than take my camera out and film it. I’m always one of those people who take a picture of a sunset and then never look at it and say why did I bother taking the picture. I’d rather enjoy the moment. We live in a day and age where the camera phone is people’s first thought for things. And I’m just not one of those people. Humorous stuff will happen and it will be off the cuff, but we didn’t film it. And it will be like “aw, should we recreate it?” But we don’t want to recreate it. It just feels stupid. It always feels forced in that sense. So for me, I definitely struggle with sharing moments.  And you have those people out there, who are literally willing to do anything. There’s a trend for people who are shaving their eyebrows off at the moment. I’m not going to shave my eyebrows off so people will care a little more. That just doesn’t register with me. You have Jake and Logan Paul, who do a lot of crazy, crazy things to get noticed. And it’s like where do you draw the line. 

These platforms make it challenging to carve out a private life. People expect more and more of celebrities’ lives to be shared. They feel they have ownership of every aspect of people’s lives. What are your thoughts on that? From the start of this lockdown, the first James Corden TV performance was filmed in the lounge and we went through my whole house. I can remember back in the day when a newspaper sent out the photos of my house. I don’t like people knowing where I sleep because it’s a security problem for me. I had a big complaint about that. Now fast forward 5-6 years and the world has changed to where nothing is really a private or intimate moment. It’s strange. As One Direction, we were in an era on the rise of Twitter. I think Twitter helped us a lot. It was the way we trended on Twitter that actually made us famous. But being on the cusp of that internet stardom, we didn’t really care about how many followers [we had].  Now, it’s become a currency. I just struggle to take those things seriously, that it is part of the job because it feels so foreign. When we had apps as kids, there was no way to becoming MSN famous. Now kids want to be an Instagrammer or a TikTokker. It’s crazy. We never had that. 

You said something about people chasing the currency of liked and follows. Kids are thinking about that validation when they are creating content. How much of that are you thinking about it when you create music or social media/video content? I think, for me, I don’t often pay attention to how many likes thing gets. As a pop star, you have to have an average amount per post. We have to have meetings now where people will go through posts, and tell you why this works. Which for me, it seems insane, but you have this persona that you have to keep up online. And definitely, when posting certain things, you are gauging whether it’s going to get a reaction or there’s no point in posting it. And that’s always been the problem for me. I’m hoping for a big reaction for stuff which limits the amount you post because you think there’s no point posting this.  Often the people who do the best in these scenarios are the people that didn’t mean for it to happen. Someone makes a little challenge like The Ice Bucket Challenge. Someone thought I’ll do this. It will be fun for us to film and because they are having fun, everyone is like we will get involved. If you think about it too much, it will overtake you. For the longest time, I didn’t post a lot. I got off of Twitter because of the backlash and the fact that you are always going to annoy someone with a post. I was like, I can’t deal with it. I might as well keep it to myself. There’s no disappointment. 

I think that’s part of the condition of being an artist. You crave a certain amount of validation.  When it’s work, you can take that some people won’t get it. But because everything has become so personal now like it’s about you. You sell your personality to people. It’s like if someone asks you “what five things do you want people to know about you”. And everyone goes, well, I’d like to be... You suddenly think, what we are doing every day online is trying to sell ourselves.  It’s a difficult balance. You have to have the right amount of humor and humility and the right amount of this. It’s so difficult to find that person. And you see people who become caricatures of themselves online. They overdo it. You don’t know what works any why it works. The internet is such an untested experiment. The public decides. It’s so crazy.

You just said that it can feel so personal, which I think is such an honest statement because when you are putting yourself out there, it is hard to celebrate the work and you. When people don’t like something, it can feel like they are personally attacking you.  It genuinely scares me sometimes. Even to post a selfie, because you just don’t know what the recipe is. I’m not trying to impress anyone. I’m just trying to stay around if that makes sense. I don’t know, it’s difficult. The fact that you just let it go and it’s gone and people either take it or leave it. It’s like jumping on stage every time you post, which scares me anyway. 

You’ve spoken pretty openly about dealing with depression and anxiety. How does this level of exposure impact your ability to manage your anxiety? Before all of this started, the first day of school would probably be when you are your most anxious. Or it’s your own clothes day and you don’t know what to wear. That feels like what everyone is going through every single day online. It’s like the teen generation has so many more questions to answer that we had. I know as a kid I was quite stressed. I can’t imagine how these kids feel these days.  The only way I can relate is by how I feel in this scenario. Obviously, being a little bit older, you are a little wiser with it. I thinks it’s a different kind of pressure these days. It’s a worldwide pressure. The fact that anyone can become a superstar overnight or also the most embarrassing thing in the world and the line is that thin. I can’t imagine what is like for kids growing up in that scenario. For me, it’s raised a lot of questions about my mental health and having to deal with these things. I’ve been running a pilot with someone for people in my position, people who struggle with fame, with the position that they get themselves. You don’t really realize the playbook you’re pressing. Once you’re in it, you’re in it.  I started from 14-16, were my two start years. And the only answer that people had for you was that you’ve got have thick skin. But I don’t think that’s really the point because once you are here, you have to find out if your skin is thick enough. You have to learn. For the longest time, if somebody wrote something about me in the press, I’d rise back up and bring back up. I didn’t realize they were trying to bait me out because they knew I’d do that. Then they’d write three more articles about the scenario that I didn’t want them to write about. You can only know that with years of experience. If something comes out now, I just leave it to die and go away and that’s it. I just think it’s difficult when people say the only answer is that you have to have thick skin to do this. 

That’s not really a solution. That’s just saying you asked for this. This is just part of it, which I don’t think is fair. Is fame something that you struggle with a lot? For me, there’s different periods, severe highs with different things and a lot of questions about stuff. I’ve been going at this now for ten years, which seems insane. I’m only 26 as well, which is quite a long time to be doing anything. And to be in this pressure cooker for that long is quite difficult, but I say I’ve learned to deal with it better now. Age and time are wonderful things. And we were buffered as teens. We had each other in the band. When I look at someone like Justin Bieber, I think no wonder he went completely mental at some point because there is no one in the world that knows what is like to be Justin Bieber, but Justin Bieber. He had no one to share it with. We had each other to share it with, to remember it with and be reminded how to behave, how to act. You shouldn’t do that. It was tough at some points, but for the most part it was helpful growing up in that team exercise rather than be let off on your own and you’re the most famous person in the world. It must have been pretty crazy for him. 

[issabangtanfic]

[Jungkook] The Windmill House (Chapter 11)

Synopsis: When your stereotypical Christian Grey meets his not so stereotypical Anna

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

A/N: Feel free to submit a cover! Tell me what you think in my inbox! Enjoy!

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It's been years since I’ve been left with that much energy after a day at work. I have minimal oiliness on my face by the time I check my mirror in my car. I actually feel like I could run a mental marathon, which is good considering my next stop. Tonight, I’m seeing the flirtatious Mr.Jeon so he can finally give me the brief for the windmill house. I have to admit, I’ve kind of been looking forward to it, not only because the house is amazing, but also because I find some fun in declining his straightforward yet quite funny advances. I drive my Mini out of London, to the secluded green space where Mr.Jeon’s house is. I stifle a smile walking up the crackled stairs. I almost fell on it the first time I came here. I remember almost losing my shit when he caught me. I don’t think I’d be that phased if it were to happen today. I’ve had him way closer to me since then, and that has been something too.

I park my car at the end of the dirt road at the bottom of the hill, and hike up the stairs that lead to the house. When I get there, I notice a black wooden door with mouldings has been installed. It's better than the sad plank that was there before, and it actually kind of fits the architecture. I knock on the door, and a few moments later, Mr Jeon opens it.

“Miss Fair.” He greets, smiling at me, all grey suit and white shirt, his tie gone, three of his buttons undone. I stop my eyes from moving further down, not wanting to check him out too obviously.

“Good Evening, Mr.Jeon.” I murmur, returning the smile. He always looks so yummy.

“Good evening.” He replies, stepping aside to let me in. “Please, come in.”

Step into the house, the floorboards creaking under my heels as I make my way in, and he closes the door behind me. 

“How was your day?” He asks as I walk into the living room, myeyes immediately going to the immense, 3 to 4 meter high bookshelf  I saw last time. The house is as pretty as I remember it. 

“Busy.” I reply evasively, my eyes wandering up to the ceiling, and the dome where the roof opens up onto the sky.

“Have you eaten yet?” He asks, pulling my attention back to him. I turn to him, and he's leaning against the kitchen counter, hands shoved in his pockets. I narrow my eyes at him.

“Are you going to try and turn this into a date?” I ask warily. Of course he's trying to make this a dinner date. He chuckles ,taking a few steps towards me.

“I’m worried about your blood sugar.” He counters, and I roll my eyes to the heavens. My blood pressure is what is really worrying. 

“I am fine, thank you.” I decline politely. This is a business meeting, Maya. I turn back around, venturing further in the living space. The couches are still covered by white sheets, except for one old brown leather armchair that I will one hundred percent stay in the house.

“Where should we start?” He prompts as I set my bag down onto the pretty arm chair.

“We can go from room to room and you tell me whatever you want to be done." I explain, sliding my coat off of my shoulders. I set it down on the back rest of the chair and start gathering my equipment. "I can also give you my ideas. I’ll snap a few pictures so I can remember how everything looks.” I say, pulling my tablet, camera and notepad out of my bag. 

“Then, I’ll draw sketches and I’ll come back to you for your approval.”  I conclude.

“Okay.”

“I'll also need the blueprints of the house.” I add before I forget.

“I’ll send them to you.” 

“Okay.” I turn around , glancing at the stairs that lead up to the star-azing platform..

“I really want to start up there.” I informed him. I have been thinking about this part of the house ever sincethe first time I came here. The sun has set, and I'm not sure what I'll be able to see but I'm curious.

“Sure.” He concedes, walking me up to the stairs. He lets me go first while he stays down under the staircase to turn the crank that lifts the blinds from the roof.

On the platform there is what I'm guessing is a telescope covered by a white sheet pointed at the ceiling.

After he gets to work the panels slowly go up, unveiling a dark sky with a few sparkles, and an almost full moon clearly visible.

“Oh, wow.” I whisper. This isn't the starriest sky I've seen in my life, but it's pretty bright for something just 45 minutes away from London. I guess the light pollution doesn't hit as much here.

A few seconds later, Mr.Jeon climbs the stairs and comes up behind me. This  space has so much potential. It's so unique, I don't think I've ever seen anything like that before. 

“So your grandfather designed this?” I ask him, unable to detach my eyes from the spectacle in front of me.

“Yes. I’d like to keep it like this of course, but I want this space to have seats.” He explains, pulling my attention back to the platform I'm standing on. The stairs and floor are metal, which gives it a very industrial feel, but doesn't match the warmth we're trying to give the house. Imagine laying on a comfy fatboy and just staring up at the sky for hours.

“Like a star-gazing station?” I ask him.

“Exactly.” He concurs. “I think it’d be nice if you were able to lay down too.”

“I agree.” I nod. 

"I think," Mr.Jeon trails off, stepping in front of me and reading the calendar stuck on the wall right next to the covered telescope. "Venus should be visible tonight." He says as he checks the time on his watch. Venus?

"Really?" My eyes widen in excitement as he uncovers the telescope. It's dark green and kind of rusty, defenitely an old piece of equipement. I bet this belonged to his gandfather. It's not dusty though, meaning he probably uses it frequently. 

"I mean it is visible during the day too, it's one of the brightest objects in the sky." He explains, unscewing the lense cover and the eye piece. Oh, I'm about to see a planet for the first time! I'm still surprised a man like him has this kind of interest. It's really not common.

"But it might be too low now." He muses, and I watch as he twists and turns the telescope that is almost his height, following an integrated compass with coordnates. He looks into the telescope in silence, and I'm fascinated by how easy he makes it look. This businessman has hobbies that don't consist in golf. 

"There she is." He says once he's found his target, and steps back from the telescope. "Take a look." He invites me. I take his place and look  through the lense, to see white bright disc in the center of my vision.

"It's so bright." I observe. I'm only seeing a bright disc of light, I wonder what it would look from up close.

"It's atmosphere is mainly thick clouds which makes it really reflective." I hear him explain behind me. 

"You sound so nerdy." I remark, turning around to look at him. He crosses his arms.

"I wouldn't be building rockets if I wasn't a nerd." He retorts. True. I take another look at the planet thoufh the telescope. It's amazing to see, but I'm really curious about how it would look if I were on the surface. It's kinda sad that I'll probably never know. 

"This is a really cool place to have in a house." I muse, looking back at him. He has his very own small scale observatory. "I've never seen anything quite like this."

"It's pretty nice." He agrees. I pull out my camera and snap a few picturs of the space, and we move on with the rest of the tour. After coming back down into the livingroom, we both agree to keep the massive bookshelf. That was a given; this is another huge piece of the house that never in a million years I would have considered removing even if he asked me to.

He tells me his grandfather has read evey single one of the books in there, and has even written some of them. He throws some ideas for the arrangement of the space ,and I snap e few more pictures. Then we tour the rest of the house; the dinning room, the two bedrooms upstairs, the bathroom, and the backyard. It takes us almost an hour to complete, and we're back in the living room, where I put down all my tools and start to pack up.

“Wine?"

I turn around to find him behind the kitchen ocunter, holding an expensive-looking bottle of red wine. He's trying to make me drink again!  I give him a dissaproving stare.

“I bought this bottle for the occasion.” He tells me. 

“What occasion?”

"Any day I get to see you is worth celebrating to me.” He coos. Oh please!  “Considering how you’re always avoiding me.” He adds. Oh, I know where this is going. 

“I am not going to sleep with you tonight.” I articulate, trying to sound convinving despite my amused tone.

“I’m just offering you a drink.” 

“You’re trying to get me drunk.”

“Maya, you’re way smarter than this.” He tilts his head to the side.

“Excuse me?” I mimick him, crossing my arms under my chest.

“You wouldn’t be here if you really thought I was going to try to take advantage of you like that.” He points out. True. But still. 

“It’s Italian wine.” He adds when I don't answer. “I think you’ll love it.”

How does he know what I like already?! 

“Just one glass.” I give in. One tiny glass. I'm driving anyways so I'm not about to go crazy tonight.

“Okay.” He agrees before pulling two wine glasses from under the counter. He pours me half a glass, before serving himself.

I thim and we clink our glasses before taking a sip each. An boy this man knows his wine. I love sweet reds. Before I can even comment on the taste, there's a loud knock on the front door.

"Just in time." He comments, droping his class and walking over to the door. Who is he expecting? I hear the door open.

"Thank you Jimin." Mr Jeon says. Jimin? Isn't that his assistant? I remember his name from the time I went to the purple mansion. The door closes and Mr.Jeon reappears.

“I hope you like sushi." He announces, holding two plastic bags in his hands. Sushi?

"You ordered food?" I gasp, my face a mix of confusion and glee. "I figured you wouldn't have had time to eat." He answers, walking over to me. I watch, mesmerised as he drops the food on the counter. My eyes follow as he pulls out one, then a second, then a third plate of colorful sushi. There’s makis too, salmon, tuna, sea breaam sushi- a lot f very good stuff. I’m salivating, my eyes hugging the food close. "Hungry?" I look up and see him smirking at me. I love sushi, and I don’t know if I can refuse this offer. This is better than sex. "Well, I wouldn't want to waste." I shrug a shoulder, making him chuckle. He then pulls out the sauces, disposable chopsticks and napkins.  Little white makis catch my attention. "What are these?" I ask, pointing at my first preys. "Cheese makis.” "Cheese?" I repeat. Has there been a kind I haven’t tried yet? It’s time to update the sushi-pedia. "Have bite.” Mr.Jeon proposes, splitting a pair of chopsticks. He picks one of the cheese sushi and brings it over to my face. At this moment, I don’t even feel like pointing out how inappropriate it is, this man just won’t stop. I bite the sushi off, surprised by the creaminess of the cheese. I hum appreciatively. Sushi can never go wrong, even with cheese in it. This is amazing. "Right?" He concurs, smiling softly. "It's good." I agree once I’ve swallowed. Mr. Jeon hands me another pair of chopsticks, and I dive into the colorful maki rolls. "I'm going to be honest," I trail off after the first two bites. "You have found my weak spot." I mumble. "Sushi?" He says, amused. I nod vigorously. I would have declined any other type of food he would have proposed, but not sushi. He was spot on, and I'm not ashamed for giving in. "Any physical weak spot you want to tell me about?" When I look back at him, he’s turned his body so he’s facing me. Elbow propped onto the counter, he’s giving me all his attention. Oh you wish, Mr.Hotbuttocks. "I'll let you in on a secret." I announce, twisting so I’m facing him as well. "I'm all ears."  He murmurs. Feeling brave, I lean closer to him, prompting him to bend his neck and quite literally give me his ear. A distant, unused and forbidden part of my brain wants to bite his earlobe just to see his reaction. But I refrain. "I'm not having sex with you." I whisper, making him chuckle. He pulls back, shaking his head at me. I catch another sushi. "There was a time when you wouldn't say that." He says to me, eyes playful. "I was drunk." I retort. "Just tipsy." He counters. Ha! "There's not much difference." I mumble. "Let me put it another way.” He prompts, and I don’t like the smirk he’s giving me. I narrow my eyes at him. "Are you attracted to me?" He asks, but I’m not sure it’s a question. He’s looking at me dead in the eyes, probably watching my pupils dilate. I don’t think I can ever say no to that question, now that Iiterally have drunk-dialed him asking for sex. But I’m not going to admit it either. "Does it really matter?" Is the best I come up with, and he laughs at me in a short snort. I know he knows that was a lame attempt, but he ignores it. "Well, you know the feeling is mutual." He murmurs, and it makes my insides fuzzy. Such a handsome man being attracted to me physically is a confidence booster, but I also know the fact that I don’t take shit from him also plays a role in it. He likes that I'm not giving in. "You're only attracted to me because I resist you." I reply. He raises an eyebrow. "Is that why you're resisting me? So you can have me chasing you?” He asks, leaning closer to me and propping his chin on his fist. I am more phased by his words than his proximity. Am I enjoying the chase? I mean the only reason I’m not throwing myself at him is because I know when he finally gets me it’ll be over. Is that what's stopping me? Knowing there probably won't be a second time? Or is it the fact that I'll just be another rebelious woman he'd managed to tame?

“No.” I shake my head after thinking about it for too long. I mimic him, resting my head on the palm of my hand, my elbow right next to his. “Well, I’m not attracted to you because you resist me." He murmurs, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Sure.” “Let me get to my point." He prompts. Oh, whatever. 

"You're submissive, right?" He asks out of the blue, taking me by surprise. Excuse me? Rude!

 I immediately feel exposed, because I know he knows the answer to that question. I feel my face heat up. Where is he going with this? "Maybe." I reply, trying my hardest not to betray my panic. But I can’t bring myself to lie looking into his eyes, so I look away, earning another heartfelt chuckle. "Maybe, alright." He repeats. He sees right through me .To be fair, I am not putting the best act. I'm too easily read. I blush, I frown, I fidget, I play with my hair - I have the most telling body language and it hasn't helped me once in life. “What is your point, Mr.Jeon?” I ask, wanting to end the torture. "So when you find someone attractive, you tend to let them take control and bring you pleasure." He trails off. I nod in agreement, still unsure where this is going.  "But it doesn't mean you're weak or dependent. You chose to be in that position because that's what brings you the most pleasure. In fact outside the bedroom you're a very opinionated woman and you get your way quite often." He adds. I'm still following at this point, but I know he's trying to get me somewhere I don't want to be. I repeat his words in my head a second time. I feel like I’m about to get tricked. "True." I agree reluctantly, knowing I probably shouldn't.  “See, you think I'm all about the challenge and keeping women who challenge me submissive and obedient, but I work differently." He explains. Oh, I’m sure he does. "Just like you being submissive doesn't mean you're dependent and passive, me wanting to pin you against a wall and do things to you has nothing to do with my respect for you or women in general." He murmurs. Pin me against a wall and do things to me?! I take a discreet but deep breath, watching as the corner of his mouth turns into a smirk when he realises I’m already imagining things. "What I'm trying to say is," He trails off, and I think I catch his pupils dilating as our eyes meet. "When I find someone attractive, I tend to hold down..." He says, his tone lower, his voice so seductive it sounds like a purr. "And bite..." He adds, bringing the tip of his index finger just under my ear. "And kiss..." I hold his gaze while he slowly runs it down the side of my neck, barely brushing my skin but letting me feel plenty. "And lick..." He stops at the  spot where my neck and shoulder connect, my hairs standing alert in the wake of his touch. His eyes don’t leave mine, intense and blazing. My libido is through the roof. I want him to do that again. Biting and kissing and licking... I’m not learning anything new here. I’ve always known this man was dominant and kinky. I’m not surprised, but he’s just so sexy. He oozes sex, he smells like sex, he looks like sex, it’s intoxicating. "Because that's what gives me the most pleasure." He adds, his voice feeling like butter. "But I also always have my partner's pleasure in mind. Sometimes more than my own." He says, barely hiding the promise in his words. He leans back as if to mark the ending of his monologue, and that’s when I realise I had stopped breathing. 

I feel dizzy and my cheeks are burning. "Well,”I sigh, reaching for my wine. “Your next conquest should consider herself lucky." I say, raising my glass in his honor, before throwing the entire thing back. I feel thirsty, and hot and bothered. "Yeah, you should." He retorts, making me splutter and almost choke on my wine. He laughs at me, his laugh loud and boyish, while I try not to spit wine all over myself. “You have no shame.” I say in wonder, shaking my head at his mirth. "What should I be ashamed of? Being attracted to you?" He retorts. "Being inappropriate." I reply, narrowing my eyes at him. What a tease. "You're smiling." He counters.  "It's better than you running from me." He murmurs, his words heavier than what he wants me to think. I don't think I'm running away as much as I used to. I went to dinner with him, and I'm here today. I'm still aware of the majo red flags he waved at me when we first met though. "You give me reasons to run." I argue. This man smells like trouble, and I'm hovering over a dangerous line but I'm confident in my capacity to protect myself. His gaze turns to playful to a little bit more serious. He looks pensive. "I was hoping it wasn't the case anymore." He says quietly, and he almost sounds disappointed by my answer. "I wouldn't be here if it was." I say to reassure him a little bit. "I'm glad to hear that." He smiles softly. Part of me doesn't want to make him too happy, but I guess I'll give him that.

"There's something I wanted to talk to you about." He prompts, and I feel him getting even more serious than before.  

"We've never really talked about what happened with my brother." He trails off. Oh... 

Way to kill the mood. I feel myself stiffen instantly as the few memories I have of that night flash back to me.

"And again, I'm sorry for what happened." He says to me. He has told me before that his brother got the "wrong impression". And I would like, in order to start contemplating the idea of forgiving me, to know how in the hell he got that wrong impression. Because to me it is unjustifiable. Was it my dress? Nope. No matter how short it could have been, and it wasn't even short. My body language? Nah. The mere fact that we were drinking? Hell to the no.

"I have always wondered how he could possibly have thought I was going to have sex with him. That still doesn't sit right with me." I tell him honestly, because if he's asking me to forgive him for thinking anything I did led him on, I'll be gone before he even finishes his sentence. 

"He could tell I was attracted to you, and he knows I usually don't mind sharing." He explains to me. He doesn't mind sharing? Sharing women with his brother?!

 "And he was drunk." He adds while I try to precess this information. My face is a knot of confusion. He had threesomes with his brother? Why do I feel like there's something very incestuous about it? I'm effectively grossed out.

"You share your sexual partners with him?" I utter, unable to hide the judgment in my voice. He doesn't seem fazed by the horror on my face."If they both want each other I usually don't have a problem with it." He shurgs a shoulder. How is he so cool about this? Is it normal nowadays? Am I weird for finding it weird. I mean; obviously him and Eliott aren't blood brothers, and I don't think they have sex together per say, but they both participate in a sexual act at the same time! 

"So you-"

"Not threesomes, no." He cuts me off. Oh thank god! 

"Huh." I exhale.

Okay, so he just doesn't mind sleeping with the same woman as his brother. 

"So, hypothetically," I traill off. "If we were to sleep together- which we won't- you wouldn't -"

"I would be extremely possessive of you." He cuts me off, looking into my eyes with intent.

"Why?" I frown. He mimicks me, scrunching his eyebrows togetehr in a pensive manner. He's actually thinking about it.

"I'm not sure." He murmurs.  "I guess I just don't like the thought of anyone else bringing you pleasure." 

Okay? 

After processing this, a tiny part of my brain thinks this means something? That maybe I'm different? I shouldn't believe him that easily though, but if that's true, then I'm confused.

"Interesting..." I muse. I don't feel like elaborating on that. The implications are way too heavy for what I want this whole thing to be.

"But okay, let's say he thought you and I were having sex." I prompt, because his explaination isn't very satisfying yet. "What made him think I'd have sex with him?"

Mr.Jeon inhales deeply, visibly a little bit embarassed to speak. 

"His dumb ass thought bringing you over was what I meant by cheering him up after his breakup." He explains, and it dawns on me.

"He thought I was a bloody hooker." I conclude. He makes a face.

"Not quite. He did drink a lot before you came over too." He counters. Okay, his drunk ass thought I was a bloody hooker.

"Anyways. I hope you'll be able to forgive him one day. He's not a bad guy, just really dumb." He finishes. 

"Okay." I nod. I've heard him, but I don't knwo about forgiving his brother. Not because I'm still mad or anything, but because I can't this of an istance where I'll ever have too see him again. It's not liek he was about to become my brother-in-law.

"Thank you for explaining." I say before glancing at my wtach. I have been here for nearly two hours.

"But I do have to go now, Mr.Jeon." I declare. It's getting really late. “Oh, what a shame.” I hear him complain as I slide off my stool. "Thank you for the sushi." I murmur, looking up at him. "You're most welcome, Miss Fair." He replies, standing up I as well. I gather my stuff, putting my camera and sketchbook back in my bag and throwing my coat on. "I will make plans and sketches and get back to you to schedule another meeting." I explain to him once I'm ready to leave. "How long will that take?" "I think I'll be done in a week or two." "That's a long time without seeing each other." He mutters, scratching his chin in a pensive manner. I raise a curious eyebrow. "Now I'm thinking we're only doing this so you can talk me into sleeping with you." I reply, crossing my arms over my chest. "Miss Fair, I would never." He gasps dramatically. Yes you would. I narrow my eyes at him. "No, seriously. This house means a lot to me, and I don't share this part of my life with that many people." He says more seriously, but I still think he could be doing this to get his dick wet. "Would you mind if I made you sign a contract, then?" I propose. He's all about NDA's and shit, right? "A contract?" "Yes." I concur. "So I'm guaranteed to get my fifteen percent." I explain. I don't want to dive into this and then leave the project like last time. If he ever fucks up to the point where I don't want to see him, we can still do everything via e-mail. Hott buttocks aside, this project is really exciting. He frowns down at me for a second, but is quick to shrug a shoulder. "As you wish." He concedes. "I should make you sign it before I actually start putting in the work." I muse. "I'll be out of town for a few days, I leave on Wednesday." He warns. "I'll e-mail it to you." "Or we could meet up and read it through together." He proposes. Of course he'd want that. "You're funny." I chuckle. "I'm not signing anything via e-mail." He declares. "Why?" I frown. "Don't know how that technology works." He shrugs. Now he's playing the age card? "How old are you?" I ask, realizing I still don't know how old he is. "I'm 21." He says. He keeps adding a year every time I ask him!  "But you build rockets." I deadpan. He smirks- fucking smirks at me. He's so handsome it's angering. "Then I'm not designing anything for you." I retort. "Is seeing me that much of a torture?" He asks with feigned disappointment. I take a moment to think. "Not anymore." I reply. "Not anymore?" He repeats, eyebrows meeting his hairline. "But still." "But still?" He frowns, looking offended. I giggle at his reaction. "I can throw food in the mix, we can meet during our lunch break." He proposes. "Our offices are very close." Oh, god. "I'll see what I'll do tomorrow." I concede, feeling like a straight no would be too mean of me. And I actually don't know I want to say no or not. I enjoy his company. "Just remember you have the power to make a man's day by saying yes." He murmurs, stepping closer to me, hands in his pockets. He looks yummy. "I'll keep that in mind." I murmur, looking up at him. "Good." He says quietly, holding my gaze. The hairs on the back of my neck rise in alert. Why am I still wearing clothes again? "Let me walk you back." He proposes after a beat. I accept, and Mr. Jeon escorts me out of the house. "We'll have to fix these stairs as well." I mumble, looking out for any rogue piece of rock about to make me fall. "You have carte blanche for the outside. I trust you." He replies. I don't think the outside -or at least the pathway, needs a lot of work. Just some brand new steps and green grass.

"Can't wait to get to it." I reply. He walks me down the stairs and back to my car.

"Thank you for your time, Ms Fair." He says as I stand next to my Mini, ready to unlock it.

"It was a pleasure." I reply, smiling at him. I open my door and slide into my seat.

"I'll be waiting for your text." He says, leaning down to my window, eyes small and playful. I giggle.

"I'm sure you will." I tease. "Goodbye, Mr. Jeon." 

"Goodbye, Miss.Fair."

[incorrectzutaraquotes]

let’s talk racial micro aggressions, because i’ve been seeing a lot of them being used online toward people speaking out about racism and even in fandoms unfortunately, so i think it’s time we have a talk. this is gonna be a semi long one, so buckle up.

just for reference, im asian american. because of that i’ve gone my entire life experiencing racism and discrimination simple because im not white. of course, i have definitely had it better than a lot of people, but that doesn’t take away from my experiences at all. i grew up hating the way i looked, trying to fix myself because i genuinely thought something was wrong with me. this led to years and years of insecurity and self hatred. something i had to go through alone, because my family was white and i was too afraid to tell them how i felt. i was afraid they wouldn’t understand. it’s still something i struggle with, though it’s gotten better.

growing up, as stated before, i was around white people. growing up in a very white town, i unfortunately wasn’t formally educated on racism or what micro aggressions were, i just knew that certain comments made me uneasy and uncomfortable, and hurt my feelings. it wasn’t until i was older, when i started using social media that i really came to understand what all of this was. 

a lot of you who have white privilege are using it to uplift bipoc voices, and i think that’s great. however it’s also important to acknowledge that many people who are actively anti racist still have implicit biases, which can lead to microaggressions.

first of all, what are microaggressions? you may or may not be familiar with the term. if you’re not, that’s okay! you can use this post to educate yourself and make sure you don’t make these mistakes in the future. microaggressions are defined as brief and commonplace daily verbal, behavioural, or environmental indignities, whether intentional or unintentional, that communicate hostile, derogatory, or negative prejudicial slights and insults toward any group, particularly culturally marginalized groups.

basically, intentional or unintentional derogatory and prejudice behaviors directed towards marginalized groups.

these are very harmful to marginalized groups, mostly because they’re not as blatant as outright racism, misogyny, homophobia, etc. this makes it often hard to detect, and you may have found yourself using micro aggressions at some point in your life. that’s not important though, what’s important is that, if you have used them in the past, you understand what you said or did was wrong, and that you learn from it.

now, what are specific racial micro aggressions? i’ve compiled a list of them under the cut, and explained why these are insulting and harmful to poc.

“where are you really from” – this insinuates that we will always be seen as foreigners, and not citizens to our own country. it brings on a feeling of not being good enough and that we will not be accepted. 

“not everything’s about race” – if you’re white stop telling bipoc how to feel about race. we are tired of it. please don’t speak over us when we are expressing our discomfort. if poc people are telling you something is racist, it’s racist. stop trying to argue with us, as you are not the ones being affected by it. 

“your food is so weird” – it’s only weird to you because it hasn’t been westernized or americanized. insisting that foreign foods are weird or gross because you aren’t used to it, is hurtful. it’s insulting. 

“all asians look the same” – by saying this, you’re taking away our individuality. asia is a huge continent, not all of us follow the same traditions and not all of us look the same. it’s not a funny joke, and it never has been. 

“you’re pretty for a *insert any race here*” – this is just such a backhanded compliment. it implies that we are not typically or conventionally pretty. it has the same negative connotations as saying “you’re really good...for a girl”. that’s misogynistic for the same reasons saying this is racist. 

“i don’t see color” – again, you’re basically erasing our individuality and culture and telling us we shouldn’t embrace it. many pocs even completely distance themselves from their cultures to seek white validation, which is in every sense of the word, upsetting. people want to fit in so bad that they’re willing to leave behind their entire culture. something that sucks about being adopted at such a young age from a white family, is that i have never had a connection with my culture. i know nothing about it, and that hurts. i rationalized in my head that the reason i didn’t learn about it sooner was because i was happy, but that was a lie i told myself for years. the sad thing is, is that because i wasn’t connected to my culture at all, i fit in better and had an easier time making friends then other pocs in my school. 

assuming all asian people are smart or good at math – stop. it’s not funny. never has been. the stereotype that all asians are smart is not a compliment, and puts a lot of pressure on us as individuals. it objectifies us, assuming we are more like machines and not actual people. long story short, it’s dehumanizing. 

“im not/cant be racist i have black friends” – contrary to popular belief, yes you can be. you can still have a racial bias while being friends with bipoc people. being associated with poc people doesn’t suddenly mean you’re not racist. you may even make racist jokes and think it’s okay because they don’t tell you to stop. just because they are seemingly unbothered does not mean it’s not still racist. a lot of times we are uncomfortable in situations like that, but are too afraid to speak up in fear of our feelings being invalidated or being told to lighten up because it’s just a joke. saying we’re too sensitive when it comes to making mockeries of our races and cultures, is also a micro aggression. 

saying “you people” or “y’all” when talking, usually negatively, about a person of a specific race – you’re generalizing an entire group because of one bad experience which is just contributing to the stereotypes and racism we face daily. one or a few bad interactions with a person of a different race does not speak for an entire population.

clutching your bag tight when a poc person, usually black or latinx, stands next to you or following them in the store – the way i still have to explain this one in 2020. they are not criminals, but by doing this, you’re contributing to the stereotype that they are all criminals and thugs, which simply isn’t true. this stereotype is very damaging and harmful, as it also contributes to the systematic oppression of those people. 

assuming someone only got a certain job or position because they’re bipoc – this insinuates that we did not work hard to get where we are, and that we did not deserve what we got. we simply got it because we aren’t white. affirmative action comes up a lot in this conversation. all affirmative action does is help decide between equally qualified people by favoring the ones who suffer from discrimination in society, but it does not reserve spots for them.

assuming someone knows how to speak mandarin because they’re asian – asia is a large continent with A LOT of languages and cultures. not everyone is chinese. not everyone speaks the same language. it’s insulting and adds to the already hurtful stereotype that all asians look the same.

“you speak english really well” or “how did you learn to speak english so well” – it’s called practicing because people have been making fun of those with accents for years, simply because they are not used to it. being surprised when a poc speaks english well implies that you may think because they’re not white, they are less educated. we’ve simply assimilated because our cultures are constantly rejected and mocked by white people and even other pocs. this also contributes to the notion that westerners are more “civilized” or that they are better, because they(generally speaking this obviously doesn’t apply to everyone)make no effort to learn our cultures, but we have to learn theirs in order to be seen as “acceptable”.

“but *insert race* are racist too” or pointing out immoral things other countries do when people of that race speak up about racism - you’re redirecting the conversation to avoid responsibility. you don’t actually care about those issues, you just want to invalidate our struggles by pointing out that a place many of us have not been to in a long time, or ever, is very flawed. we have no say in what that government chooses to do. not all places are a democracy, and many democracies around the world are flawed.

something important to remember is that anyone can be guilty of implicit bias and micro aggressions. this is not selective to one race. 

if you have anymore of these, please feel free to add on. also, if you’re a poc and something i wrote made you uncomfortable, please tell me. i want to make sure im being truthful with what i said. i did do research for some of these, and some were based on personal experiences, but if you want to add to something or you want me to change or delete something do not hesitate to call me out. 

unfortunately they and other racial stereotypes are very prevalent in american media, which has normalized it in our society. this post is solely meant to educate if you weren’t previously aware of the dangers micro aggressions have on minorities. i started the list because i was tired of seeing so much normalized racism online, but i hope you learned something useful with this. if you stuck around this long, thank you for listening. i appreciate it a lot. 

as for my zutara fans, i apologize for making so many rant posts rather than posting incorrect quotes. i just feel like im able to reach a larger audience with the platform i have on this account than any other one. 

anyway, that’s all. thank you again for listening :) 

[lloyd-needs-therapy]

Random thought but when I was rewatching season 6, I just realized that it actually shows that Lloyd knows how to pick locks. When they were arrested he breaks them out of the hole by picking his lock with a fork. So have this oneshot...

Picking Locks

They think they can make fun of him, he is Lloyd Garmadon for heaven's sake. He is so fed up with them not calling him evil. So if everyone says he not evil well hes gonna show them how wrong they are.

He needs a plan something big. Pranks won't work thats to basic. He could try get good grades, if he got good grades then it shows how good he is at being bad. Yeh thats the plan, soon everyone is going to regret being mean to him.

***

"Okay class today, you're going to be picking locks, as you can see you each have a standard lock on your desk. The instructions are on the board, you have ten minuits. If you fail to unlock it in the time given you will be punished. You may start."

Okay Lloyd c'mon you can do this. It's simple all the instructions are on the board. He can't fail at this, because if he fails, he'll be punished and those punishments hurt. Okay if he jigles it this way he should feel a light click. Ughh why can't he feel a click. All he needs to do is push the pins on the inside of lock up and put a little bit of pressure on it with the paper clip and it will unlock, simple. Although it's not simple, its hard.

"One minuit left" the teacher anounced. Only a handful of people had theirs done.

Wait he nearly has it just click there...

"10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5,"

Click, he's done! With 5 seconds to spare. He can't believe it! He thought for sure he was going to fail.

"1, Locks down everyone if I see a single hand on thier lock i swear... Anyways the people who didn't finish will meet me here after school for their punishment and trust me I know who didn't get there's finished. Okay now leave you little brats before I make you."

Everyone packed up there things and started leaving when the teacher came over to Lloyd.

"Cutting it close there Garmadon. This is the first time i've ever seen you succed at anything you worthless brat. Keep this work up and you might make it."

"Yes Mrs"

And with that Lloyd took off to his next class.

***

"All you need to do is kill it!" His teacher next to him told him with frustration over Lloyd's hesitance, in his voice.

In Lloyd's hand was a little mouse, it was a very small one, with white fur and big adorable eyes that seem to be staring into his soul, begging him to let it live. It was like it was mocking him. He needed to kill it for him to pass this class. Lloyd so desparetly wanted to kill it so he could prove to everyone that he was evil like his father. So far he was acctually doing good at his classes, but when it came to hurting anyone or in this case anything, he just couldn't.

A small part of him, that he has tried to burry for so long, kept coming up and it would remind him that everything about this place is wrong. It almost buzzed like it was alive, but that was just his imagination.

He just couldn't get rid off it the only time the buzzing stop was when he did something good but he couldn't do good because he was born to be evil.

"Hurry up"

Lloyd was to scared to speak back so he started to squeze his hands shut. The little mouse let out a sqeek when he started to squeze harder, It looked up at him with big eyes and Lloyd finally broke, dropping the mouse.

"I- i" Lloyd felt like his throat was closing up the more he tried to speak.

"Save it, your a disappointment to the Garmadon name, we noticed the way you care for others but we had hope to snuff the light out of you."

"B-but I do g-good in my other c-classes."

"That is true but for all of your other classes to matter you need to be cold hearted or else you won't survive in this world"

"Y-yes sir"

***

Those memories feel like ages ago or like they happened in another life. After he was kicked out he spent a good time on the streets then he met the ninja and his life changed for the better. But now he was in jail because the stupid djinn framed them. He is so sick of being in jail, Wait!He can just grab a fork from the cafeteria and pick the locks, ughhh he so stupid, he could off done this alot sooner.

Well he got the fork but now there in this thing called the hole, oh well they're getting out of here either way.

After they broke out he really forgot that he didn't tell anyone he knew how to pick locks. So obviously that was a convorsation starter with his big sis, while the other were talking to Captin Soto.

"Lloyd you never told me that you could pick locks." Nya exclaimed.

"Well yeah I guess it never really came up" Lloyd shrugged

"When did you learn to pick locks, thats not something any of us taught you"

"Well I did go to a school where they taught you how to be evil, I learned alot of other things too, but I don't think any off them really go with the whole 'saviour of ninjago' thing" laughed Lloyd

"Yeh I suppose so".

Nya remebered reading Lloyd's file from darkly's with the other ninja. It said that he was a good student, but got kicked out because he was to good and kind. In there words 'he did not have the moral ambition to be one of tomorrows master minds' or thats what Lloyd told them anyways.

***

Its been a few days since his father had taken over ninjago and to be honest he wasn't faring well. Not like ninjago was doing any better with buildings collapsing, people getting hunted down, people dying and the list goes on and on. He was currently over looking the city from the roof of there hide out.

Just his luck his family was dead, he was being hunted down by his newly resurrected, deranged father, who had put him in a coma and disowned him all in one night, and Harumi his psychotic ex? Were they even together? he really dosn't know. All he knows is he had been too trusting and too good and what had that gotten him? Destiny had set him up to fail before he was even born. He probably has a good few bets resting on him up in cloud kingdom. There was a sound of the rooftop door opening but Lloyd kept starring off into the sky.

"I knew I would find you up here"Nya said softly.

Lloyd didn't reply, he didn't trust himself not to breakdown right there. Altough there wouldn't be much tears. Lloyd thought bitterly, another thing darkly's forced out of him. After what felt like an eternity of silence he spoke.

"You know when I was little I wanted so bad to follow in my Dad's shoes" Lloyd laughed shallowly.

"Lloyd, this man isn't truely your father, your father is the father that loved you and would never even think about hurting you"

"Did I ever tell you why exactly I got kicked out of darkly's?"

"You said something about 'lacking ambition'" Nya recalled

"Well they told me I wasn't cold enough, that I needed to be cold hearted to survive in this world, after I couldn't kill a mouse. I guess they were right, I opened up my heart and now look what thats done." Lloyd motioned at the city.

"Lloyd you're caring, loyal, trusting, a great leader, an amazing baby brother and so many more. Don't let this stop you, I promise we will rise above all this and when that time comes you can laugh at all the people who told you any different."

[onlyhereforangst]

WWR

The Talk™️

lololol just kidding sorry Laura I love you here’s the real thing just in time 😘😘

We start with Ellie being veeeeery sus 👀 checking out Eastern Europe and the various countries, I mean yes there are plenty of nice, beautiful places there but this is a procedural aka obviously that area can only be shady. I also love that Nick came up silently and waited, watched what she was doing very intently, before announcing his presence. Almost like he’s been suspecting something is up with her for a little while now and seized on this perfect opportunity to do a little digging. But at the same time he doesn’t let it go on too long, and he almost gives her an out- he doesn’t accuse her of being shady AF, instead he’s like oh clearly she’s planning a trip because she’s always talked about loving Eastern Europe not the Bahamas like we’d just gotten jealous over a year ago…right, Ellie? A trip? And then her response ooo girl. She starts to get uber defensive and then realizes that oh wait, he handed me an out on a silver platter so yeah let me take it real quick. AND HE DOESN’T CALL HER ON IT. That’s the real good stuff in this scene- he’s a trained federal agent with years of undercover work, he can tell when someone is outright lying *especially* when that someone is Ellie. So he takes her defensive hesitation and than blatant lie and rolls with it. Beeeecause he trusts her. He trusts her to tell him when she’s ready. He saw how hurt she got when he kept bothering her after the kidnapping, and also saw her tell him once she was ready to. So yeah, he gets it now. He may be seriously concerned for her underneath that joking exterior, but he trusts her to tell him when the time is right, and also likely feels she wouldn’t keep anything huge huge from him. *cue getting ready for heartbreak in the finale it’s fine everything is fine*

Of course we move on to the flirty stuff because we avoid serious talk here 🙄 Ellie still sus though don’t get it wrong, shutting that laptop real quick when he rounds the corner taking no further chances. And her crossing her arms while he offends her choice of “vacation” hahaha she’s so obvious, honey you got the hots for him it’s ok. Little middle school flirting like oh yeah you can do better? Prove it jerk. And Niiiiiick 🥵 I wish you could see the screenshot I’m paused on right now after he says it depends on who he’s going with before he asks her who she’s going with because DAMN that look. He can think of one (1) person and one person only who he’d go on a trip with. Her little smirk back before she decides to throw all pretense to the wayside and says fuck it I don’t care that we’re in the bullpen out in the open lemme flirt with you ~*Agent Torres*~ AND HE’S LIKE TWO CAN PLAY AGENT BISHOP PLEASE INVITE ME ON YOUR TRIP THAT I KNOW DOESN’T EXIST BUT I’D LIKE TO KNOW I’D BE INVITED IF IT DID. And please her giddy smile afterwards and then she goes from leaning back in her chair to leaning forward towards him because these two are absolutely drawn to each other bitches and I can’t get enough of them and their little playful smiles and body language. AND NEITHER CAN JIMMY. 

Jimmy is the ellick fandom. Because yes, keep going this is ✨just delightful✨ and I never want it to stop unless you’re kissing. Thank you. And pleeeeease them stumbling over their words when they realized they’ve been caught I CANT. They both look *so* uncomfortable and it’s hilarious, and then Ellie can’t help but laugh at Nick’s dumb joke making fun of Jimmy because it’s her man and he’s so *funny*. 

Bring us to Jimmy redeeming himself. But also yes this just confirms to me that he told Nick what he needed to hear back when he said zero chemistry. And now Jimmy’s observed silently, see where Nick has come in the last year and everything the two have been through and knows he ready to hear it for real. Well Jimmy was ready a while ago for them to move it along so yeah he’s like where’s my spoon I’m gonna STIR THIS POT. And then it is born, the slogan of the episode, the point of the WWR (please don’t have PTSD Laura), The Talk™️. Nick’s face oooo man, he initially tries to deflect like no we aren’t talking about that cozy scene nuh uh and then it turns into his worst nightmare- being called out by James Palmer of all people with Ellie literally five feet away. (ALSO MCGEE IS LITERALLY A FOOT BEHIND THEM. He 1000% heard this entire conversation if Ellie heard it. Bro better not try to deny a single thing later I’m watching you sir 👀) Nick’s expression is screaming what the fuck shut UP Jimmy this can’t possibly be happening so let me try to joke and deflect again (small smile because it was still a little funny) and then back to what the fuck he’s undeterred shit shit shit oh thank god McGee has started talking yes we have a goddamn huge problem autopsy gremlin won’t take the damn hint. 

And woooooow the first time I’ve seen Nick at his desk in a while 👀👀 he said shit people are on to me let me put ✨space✨ in between us for like five seconds while we still shoot each other cute smiles. 

Oooooooh now we here for the evisceration. The Here Lies James Palmer moment of the episode. Catch me dYING in the club, not crying. Because holy shit Ellie this was not only brutal and Brian absolutely killed it during this scene with his reactions to Ellie ripping him apart. His “oh…Oh…oooh.” Had me cackling. And Ellie you are the poster child of defensive, pulling out all the stops. Let me deny everything, let me then be a slight hypocrite because people shouldn’t be talking about me (because I’m terrified about considering broaching that topic too) but I can talk about Gibbs and Sloane previously, and then also like sort of admitting to it by asking Jimmy what people think is going on because that’s the question she would *love* to know the answer to but hasn’t gotten yet. All the while cue me laughing hysterically at jimmy, top tier scene right here lets be honest. Because then Kasie comes in and it’s just perfect 🤣🤣🤣 this was his sister, Painful. Couldn’t have said it better myself Kasie 😭💀

Lol at McGee telling Ellie not to tell Nick he was right about it being a coincidence 😂

HOW CLOSE DO WE NEED TO STAND TOGETHER Y’ALL. HOW CLOSE. THERE’S A WHOLE GODDAMN BULLPEN. Remember when I said Nick wanted space for 5 whole seconds, yeah this is why. They’re straight magnets - drawn together indubitably 👀

Quick detour for the continued storyline of sus!Ellie and it makes me even more and more excited for the finaleeeeee. Because honey why do you know it takes 10 pounds of pressure to rip a trachea out and yes we all know it’s Odette and I can’t wait for the aaaaaangst. Also Kasie always coming in clutch with the humor, I live for it. “No you right I got nothing” 🤣🤣

Once again, Nick forgot about his desk, it was short-lived wasn’t it? 😅 

Now to another fun scene, and I feel like there’s a little double meaning to when Nick talks to Ellie about Phineas going through a lot this year, “more than most of us, which is saying a lot this year” - obviously covid but also maybe a callback to the kidnapping/jail cell stuff they dealt with?? Maybe?? Anyways, them being so awkward cute together because there’s a slight lull in the case so they revert back to their middle school selves, “so” “so…” I can’t with them omg. And then, and THEN of the two to bring it up, it’s Nick!!!! Yes!!! The GROWTH. This man used to be so emotionally closed off and now he, HE is bringing up The Talk™️ and he almost chickens out, he almost says haha you’re right we don’t have to have The Talk™️ after Ellie has a minor freakout because good god this girl is on *edge*. Her mind has probably been going a mile a minute the second she heard Jimmy call them out at the crime scene because she’s been living in blissful ignorance the past months/year whatever and now everything is smacking her in the face. But Nick, ugh I love the growth. He brushes it off and then has a moment where his face is like, no, no I’m not a wuss and he admits that yes he’s thought about it (the way he pauses when he says “not that it hasn’t been on my mind…us…” and I’m like yeah you two as a couple has been on your mind hasn’t it Nick 👀) and yes I want to have The Talk™️ with you Ellie Bishop. And not only does he admit this he’s also the one that’s like ok yeah cool BUT WHEN. Let’s nail this down please, I need it in my planner asap. And then she gets all giggly again “I don’t know when do *you* think?” Like omg I’m literally in middle school again. They’re so fucking cute and awkward it’s precious. Especially when they have to end their conversation and suddenly act normal when talking to McGee 😅😍 then they go separate ways and the look Ellie shoots Nick ahhhhhhh it’s almost like a let’s table this but also shit we really did half open that can of worms in the middle of a work day. Nick sighs and looks briefly to the sky like shit what did I do in a good way and bad way haha. 

Back to Kasie with the ✨iconic✨ lines I love herrrr. Ellie being sus again with being resistant to change. I can’t decide if she’s not only talking about the possibility of dating Nick (once again defensive because Kasie about came for her throat hahahah) but also maybe about whatever is going to go down with Odette 👀👀

HERE WE ARE. THE MOMENT WE’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR. Back to being cute little awkward idiots in love that need to have The Talk™️. I mean come on they’re trying so hard to avoid the actual talk and just dancing around it “so” “so” “talk a roo” “talk a reeno” excuse me what the fuck are you saying just SAY IT. And Nick is still ready and rearing to go but also wants to respect Ellie and give her space if needed so he offers to just agree The Talk™️ needs to be had. And of course she counters with “need is a strong word” because damn this girl is spiraling. She’s so terrified of the outcome of this talk she wants to deny it needs to exist but still she can’t help it at the end of the day. And Nick is still like ok BUT WHEN. I WANT TO TELL YOU I LOVE YOU AFTER YOU TELL ME YOU LOVE ME. SO LIKE WHEN ELLIE WHEN. And he once again plays off her deflection (a theme of this episode) with yeah yeah they’re super tired not at all wired just thinking about this talk that is at the tip of his tongue. At least Ellie is finally seeing the light and realizes that they should promise to have The Talk™️ but as she sits there staring at the elevator in front of her she’s like oh fuck, it can’t be soon can it. Fuck fuck fuck I can’t hold this in longer, we can’t keep dancing around it. fuck. So when Nick once again tries to press her to nail down a time she’s like well fuck it let’s do this shit now. Then she can’t realized that shit I actually said it, I actually said that. I said we should have The Talk™️ now. And Nick’s genuine surprise mirrors hers because she’s been the one half-denying The Talk™️ all day and now she wants to do this right here right now??? But at the same time he’s got a little smile to his face because he loves the idea of her being on board and finally getting this done. Finally getting to hear how she feels. 

So they walk into the elevator with a MUCH better vibe than the last time they walked in all serious at night (looking at you dumb Nick with Elena) but I guess the Elena Elevator Talk walked so the Ellie Elevator Talk could run 👀

And Nick while yes he’s ready for this shit to finally happen he’s still vulnerable, still terrified of opening himself up because he’s seen his dad (recently) and how commitment and relationships run in the family 🙄 plus this is all very new to him outside of Sofia and this is definitely not new to Ellie (Jake, qasim). He needs to hear she’s all-in too, needs to know he hasn’t built something up in his head for something serious when she views it as just a flirtation between friends. So he nervously says ladies first and while Ellie gives him a look of protest and wtf man, I think deep down she knows this is all so difficult for him despite how much he’s pushed it over the course of the day plus SHE is ready to get this out in the open. The moment she decided to stop denying and spiraling she went full force head on let’s talk about us. She hedges for a second and Nick continues to be nervous as she’s clearly building up her own nerve. Then she says probably the exact same moment he’s thinking of- or at least one of them- the jail cell. The defining, triggering moment that set this thing at full speed. He can’t believe she’s really saying the words, about to hear what he hopes is his feeling of that jail cell reciprocated in her words and his head turns quickly to look at her, unable to believe his ears that what he’s been dying for all along is going to happen. The Talk™️ is happening and damn it seems like it’s happening in the right direction. 

Of course we have no damn clue what was said and I’m jaded and don’t think they’ll ever tell us- RIP the note. BUT I’m so glad it actually happened (and the cinematographic parallels of course), a STEP towards canon!Ellick I’m fine. 

Now to see where they take this from here in the last two episodes and I can only hope an angst filled canon!Ellick because duh. 

[absinthemind3d]

Bend and Snap

Written for @jurdannetrevels​ Jurdan Smut Week Day 3: Orgasm Delay/Begging/Overstimulation. My first fic in at least six years. Also posted on AO3 here. Snippet: I had been watching him at these events too, saw him trying not to look at me too frequently so his silk pants wouldn’t betray his thoughts. I had been watching, and I had been planning. Tonight, I intended to make the High King of Elfhame beg. 

Content Warning: E for there is some e x p l i c i t stuff

Word count: 3583

🗡--I’ll show you how a real queen behaves--🗡

“Jude.” Cardan snaps my name like a command—and a caress. Despite my feigned boredom, a shiver runs through me. 

“Cardan.” I answer back, arching an eyebrow as I toy with the knots of wood in my twisting, high-backed chair. 

“My darling queen,” he leans toward me, looking for all the world like a doting husband, “You’re being rude.” 

“And you—” I draw closer to him, hand flying instinctively to the dagger on my thigh. Are being a tease. I hated sitting through the hours of feasting, restrained to sitting by my husband’s side when all I really wanted was to fuck him for hours instead. Leaning back in my chair, I let loose a repressed sigh, smiling for the crowd around us and muttering instead, “—Know how good you look tonight, don’t you?” 

I hated it, this wanting—it came at the most damnedly inconvenient of times. Worse still was that I had to wait to satisfy my desires—not that I would ask. Even though I knew he loved waiting for me to beg. My hands shake imperceptibly, I hope, as I bring one to his cheek and the other to my own lips. They still feel bruised from his ministrations the night prior; what I wouldn’t give to be back in that moment… 

“Sweet Jude,” Cardan chuckles; noting the hand on his cheek had moved from where my knife was hidden, he gives me an infinitesimal eyebrow raise before continuing, turning his head so his lips brush my palm, “When don’t I look like a feast in my own right?” Leaning closer again, forcing myself to press my skull against the back of my chair, he whispers, “You know very well how this night will go if you refuse to play along.” He smirks, and I redden despite myself. I knew he watched me at events such as this, like a snake waiting to strike, waiting for any sign of weakness, that I might give in. That I might ask. 

He hadn’t bothered to factor in that I might not need to ask. 

I had been watching him at these events too, saw him trying not to look at me too frequently so his silk pants wouldn’t betray his thoughts. I had been watching, and I had been planning. Tonight, I intended to make the High King of Elfhame beg.

Fairies were, as a rule, less conservative than mortals. I had seen Cardan lose himself in such revels, drunk, lips and skin glittering with sweat and the nectar of various imbibements. Yet, as High King, he has been showing restraint. He touched me as we danced, of course, and there was the odd leg squeeze under the table, but he’d never let go with me the way he had before. Perhaps it was because he was High King now. Perhaps it was because he didn’t want to share me. Or—and this was an idea I was very curious to entertain—perhaps he didn’t want anyone to see how absolutely wild I could drive him. I was getting braver, sexually, to put it bluntly, and tonight—Oh, I would have fun tonight. 

He doesn’t expect an answer, and he begins to draw back, threading his hand through mine as it drops from his cheek. I pull him back with that hand, perhaps with more force than necessary. “And you,” I whisper in response, “Have no idea how this night is going to go, whether I play along or not.” 

He raises his eyebrows obviously now and shock flits, briefly, across his face. He knows I am brazen, but this is new. Unexpected. Good. I don’t want him thinking he knows everything I am capable of.

“High King,” I place each of my hands on either arm of my chair and cross my legs casually, refusing to let him know I am already burning, “Let us enjoy the night’s festivities.” He leans back when I do, and as he crosses his ankle over one knee I can imagine we make a formidable looking pair, observing those who have already given over to the drinking and dancing portion of the evening. I can spot Nicasia with her admirers, and it seems a long time ago that she saw me as a threat. I am far away from those petty power struggles; I have something much grander in mind right now, anyway.

I can feel Cardan giving me a sidelong glance, but I do not move my gaze from those dancing. I will not give him the satisfaction of learning what I have planned before I choose to reveal it. Once again, I slip a mask of boredom onto my face and reach forward to take my goblet into my left hand. As I do so, I slide my right over Cardan’s thigh. This is nothing new for us, though it is usually he who instigates such affections beneath the feast table; they are also usually quick, passing, perhaps enough to arouse for a moment. He remains very still beneath my hand, and I resist the urge to laugh. Less than thirty seconds after my initial graze across his thigh, I lean back with the goblet in my hand and allow gravity to pull my hand squarely into his lap. I am silently grateful our chairs are close enough for me to accomplish this, my first task of the evening. 

A sharp intake of breath from beside me. I arrange my skirts, kicking at them with my crossed leg until most of their bulk is on my right side, shielding half of my arm from view so to any passersby it might appear my hand is resting anywhere innocently on my husband’s leg. Again, fairies need not have such actions concealed, but I am not a fairy, and the clandestine element is crucial to my plan. The mix of public and so, so private thrills me in a way I haven’t yet fully allowed myself to contemplate. “Is this not,” I trill, a bit unnaturally, glancing at the High King, “The most delightful of our recent celebrations?” As I speak, I apply the barest amount of pressure, running my thumb up his length. His cock, already hardening under my touch, reacts instantly. Soon, I have him halfway to where I want him, but I am still expecting an answer. My hand stills, waiting, and his bent knee smacks the underside of the table, rattling his own goblet and spilling some of the wine in it. 

Recovering quickly, he snatches up his goblet and runs his finger idly around the rim, then looks directly at me and licks his finger in such a way that has my core threatening to betray me. I clench my thighs together harder. “It is the most… surprising one as of late, my dearest weapon.”

“Well I grow tired of only observing,” I sigh, probably too dramatically, as I resume my strokes. Then I smile brightly and stand, moving my hand to linger on his arm just as he becomes fully erect. “Shall we partake of the dancing?” 

He looks at me as though I’ve struck him, then manages to splutter “Jude” before raising his glass to his lips. I gaze down at his lap and smirk at how little the thin fabric there hides. I chuckle, perhaps a little darkly, but I am deeply enjoying this new thrum of power humming in my veins. I drink deeply and set my glass down, never taking my eyes from his even as I lean forward and place the goblet. My loose hair brushes against his hand, then his arm, and as my body moves I sink my lips to his ear and whisper, “Or is there anything else you require, my king?” The knuckles of his free hand turn stark white as he grips his chair, though his face has recovered and betrays nothing.

I glance around nonchalantly, as if curious. No one is paying us particular attention; everyone knows the king and queen will soon make their way from the dais and join the throng. At this stage in the night, we meld with our subjects—Cardan maintaining more control than he did as prince, but still playing the part of spontaneous host to a tee. Tonight, I am more grateful than most that his demeanour as ruler allows folk to relax at such events. This next phase requires that fine balance. I smile at Cardan once again, and allow the thrill of my previous action to course through my body, still fresh. I turn as if to walk away from my chair, my hand once again moving to the dagger on my thigh. With my back to him, through my dress I flick open the final buckle holding the weapon in place and it clangs to my feet. I kick it behind me, under the table, and turn on my heel. 

“Oh!” I exclaim, simultaneously aware I am a poor actress yet not caring a whit. For a moment I am reminded of the mortal movie Vivi made us watch recently, something about a lawyer. “That’s my favourite dagger,” I mutter as I move swiftly to duck under the table. Cardan’s face is agape and he hasn’t moved a muscle. Good.

Now on my knees, I pick up the knife and sheath it—it is my favourite, and I will not lose it—before turning my attention to the task at hand. Slowly, I take Cardan’s leg, the one crossed over the other, and gently lower his boot to the floor. Idly I wonder if he has any idea what I am about to do. I chance a look up his body, taking a moment to appreciate the view before reaching his face. He’s staring right at me, and when we lock eyes his breath hitches. Realization dawns on his face as I make short work of unlacing his pants, eyes locked with his the entire time. A slow smile makes its way across his lips and he looks away from me, lifting his chin and suddenly finding what is left of the fare on the table extremely interesting. A dare, then. I knew he would take this as a challenge—to maintain control as I pleasure him. I laugh softly despite myself.

Taking his length in my hands, I raise it to my lips and barely kiss it, running my tongue over his head with deliberate slowness. His left ankle jerks beside me and I hear a soft clatter from above, as though he has idly discarded a piece of cutlery on the table. Oh, he was going to put on a good show. I lower one hand to the base of his erection, savouring both the warmth and the size of it. When I take all of him into my mouth, I can feel a similar thrum of pleasure winding through his veins that matches my own. My free hand makes its way to his hip, pressing him back into his chair as I begin a rhythm. I’m savouring this feeling of complete control; his hips are threatening to buck upward off the chair, begging me to increase the pace. But I will not. Instead, I slow as his hands fly to my hair, another desperate attempt to get what he wants. Just as I’ve restrained his hip, he has my head locked squarely in his lap, but that doesn’t mean I am forced to provide complete satisfaction.

Slowly, painfully slowly, I move my mouth up and down his cock and move both of my hands to the base of it, devoting all that is in my power to driving him wild. I let his hips thrust upward and match the increased pace, relishing the way I can feel his body react to my actions. 

Deliciously, I feel pleasure pulse up his length, and I know he’s close. Much as I am enjoying this display of my newfound talents, I’m not done with him yet. I slow my hands and mouth and sit back on my heels; the silver and quartz threaded through the train of my dress now dig into my ass. If any break, it will be a small price to pay. As soon as I sit back, I hear a sharp intake of breath from above, and his hands fall from my head, pulling strands of my hair through his fingers as he moves them to his knees. His knuckles are still standing out, pale as bone. Then, “Jude,” he announces loudly, bending sideways to stare right at me under the table, “Did you find your dagger, my sweet villain?” His voice is like honey, and his finger swirls gently over a strand of my hair that still floats over his knee, but his eyes—were I someone else, in another lifetime, I would have shrank back from that stare. 

But I am High Queen of Elfhame, and I have not finished my quest. Resting one hand idly on my thigh, I stare right back at his black eyes as I reply, “My mortal eyes made the task difficult, but it is right here, my king.” 

“I’m surprised you found it at all,” he mutters, voice dripping venom now, “Since you seem so terrible at finishing what you start.” 

“If you knew me at all, darling Cardan,” I shoot back, voice equally poisonous as I attempt to gracefully rise, dusting off my knees conspicuously, “You would know that once I am committed to a task, I see it through.” 

His face is a delightful mixture of pain, desire, and shock, and I can tell he is trying very, very hard not to take me in his lap and fuck me here. If he wants me, he will have to be on his best behaviour now. I take my seat beside him, thrill and arousal still coursing through me. Weaving my hand through his own, I raise it to my lips and smile over our clasped fingers, being sure he has noted my thoroughly smeared lipstick before I swipe it off my chin with a napkin. “What,” he grinds out, stabbing an errant piece of fruit with his fork, “the fuck,” he spits, running a hand through his hair, knocking his crown further askew, “was that?”

“That,” I spear a grape with my knife and bring it to my lips, running my tongue over my teeth before I take it into my mouth, “was only the appetizer.”

I can feel his knees pressing together and his feet pushing into the floor in his attempts to not carry through with his desires, yet I school my features to appear unmoved. I suddenly become very interested in the candles lining the table, watching the wax drip down their columns… 

I swallow hard; perhaps candles weren’t the most benign of objects to coolly observe. I glance sideways at my husband, and see he is trying hard to stay in his chair. I’m good at action. I’m not so skilled at this: the slow dance between pleasure and release. And, I find as I stand and begin to walk away from the table, sure he will follow, I want to finish him off. My feet threaten to once again turn and take my back under the table, but the finale to this evening relies on Cardan being as riled as possible.

I make sure to swing my hips so that the crystals throughout the fabric in my dress glitter to the movement, drawing attention to my curves. I glance around as I walk: some folk incline their heads toward me as I pass, but most are too lost to their own pleasures to acknowledge even their queen, as I’d expected. As I’d hoped. I cross the dance floor deliberately slowly, refusing to turn and look back at Cardan, though I can feel his eyes boring holes in my exposed back. I arrive at my target: a dark alcove with a single green velvet chair. It is too dark for my human eyes to know it is green, of course; I had it placed there earlier today. Another deep ripple of pleasure runs up my spine, and I lick my bottom lip, envisioning, as I had hours before, my plans for that chair.

I turn as slowly as I dare, stepping back so I am against the wall, which curves inward toward the chair. I have chosen this alcove as it offers the most privacy in the entire room, even away from immortal eyes, yet it amplifies the volume of the crowd. My delicious mix of public and private.

As I suspected, his eyes are piercing through the crowd right to me. He maintains that laser focus as he walks, also slowly, towards me. I am still against the wall when he reaches me; I glance down as he approaches, making sure he knows I am looking him over. His arousal is still evident, at least to me, and he moves to kiss me but I step quickly to the side, gesturing instead at the chair. He looks murderous, but acquiesces and sits in a flurry of black fabric. His tail catches my wrist and begins to snake its way up my arm. I move closer, knowing that is what he wants, and hitch my skirts. 

As I do so, his breath hitches, and I smile fiendishly before turning my back on him. His tail drops from my arm and I move, heart hammering in my chest. Holding my skirts in one hand, I sit back onto his legs and wind my other hand up his thigh. Slowly, I find one end of the tie keeping me from his cock—which I note he has hastily strung together after my last attentions—and tug; soon, his hand is on my hip and he is eagerly helping me as I move to ride him. I gasp as he enters me; from this position, I can feel everything—including his breath, hot on my neck as he pulls my hair away from us, keeping some of it bunched in his fingers. “Jude,” he pants against my back as he runs kisses down my spine, and I move experimentally, pleased when he gasps in reply, “Jude, you have orchestrated my undoing.” I smile smugly at that and gaze at him over my shoulder, rocking a bit, splaying a hand on his knee as I do so.

Through it all, the music plays, the folk dance, and the divine mixture of pleasure and power now pulse at their highest in my veins. There is something in me that loves chaos, that thrives on the inexplicable high I am experiencing from this most private of pleasures and this most public of venues. I feel as though I have never felt power such as this, never had such control during such sensation.

Yet still, I do not move as much as I could. I am still waiting. 

“And how,” I purr, still watching him over my shoulder, “would you like to be undone, Cardan?” 

At his name, I rock faster, and the hand on my hip threatens to rip my gown. I know I am driving him crazy, but I need him to show me just how crazy he can be. I arch my back and begin moving my hips in circles, mimicking my earlier work with my tongue. I know I have him in a position where he can’t control the pace, and I know, after what I have put him through, that this will madden him. I am waiting until he cannot take it any longer, but as I move, I get caught up in my own pleasure.

The heat spreading through my core and down my legs is threatening to be my undoing, and I begin to increase my pace as I find myself teetering on the edge of release. I am lost in what I can feel: Cardan’s hand in my hair, Cardan’s hand on my hip, Cardan’s lips against my neck, Cardan’s length sweetly, deliciously filling me so much so that I can’t think or feel anything that is not this moment.

I am so lost in this that the moment I was waiting for, the moment Cardan begs—”Jude, please, Jude, fuck, Jude”—falls away like all the rest and becomes a background chorus to the main verse as we both gasp our release, as the torrent of pleasure spills over for us both and we both whisper each other’s names as we come.

My eyes slowly flutter open and I lean back into my husband, sounds of the revel around us returning to my ears. No one has noticed their monarchs in this corner, slipping out of reality and into each other, at least as far as I can tell. “Learning new tricks, have we been?” Cardan whispers into my ear, nipping the lobe for emphasis. 

“All the time,” I toss my hair over one shoulder and press my lips to his cheek. 

“You can lose your knife under the table anytime,” he murmurs, voice gravelly. Gently, he lifts me enough so he can string his pants back together. I settle myself onto the edge of his lap. “And Jude,” he catches my wrist with his hand this time as I move to stand, his eyes glittering with conspiratorial delight, “Let’s make this chair a permanent fixture here, shall we?”

[neverdoingmuch]

hello! I just wanted to ask, which do you think in the mdzs novel has the most questionable morality? like they have done more bad things but they still had kindness in them somehow (?)

oh!! this is a hard one for me anon! i’m always bad at ranking characters but i’ll do my best!  i’m not sure if you were hoping for like a quick answer or a long one but i’m gonna go with a long one bc that’s always fun and i’ll do a tldr if you don’t want to read through all that? yeah that seems like it’ll work because holy shit i didnt mean for it to get so long (and kind of away from the point of your ask too so sorry about that!)

okay! So, the three main contenders for morally dubious characters are, as far as I’ve seen, Xue Yang, Jin Guangyao, and Wei Wuxian. Not a big surprise, I’m sure. While they’re the more obvious options, they do have a lot of parallels and exhibit a lot of the themes and ideas that MXTX was getting at. I mean, I love looking at Jin Guangyao and Wei Wuxian as foils, and even other combinations of the three, so my answer will probably be heavy on the comparisons. I do think it’s worth touching on Jiang Cheng as well though. Also, I’ll try to stay as unbiased as I can because there’s a few characters on this list that I just don’t like … like at all.

Jiang Cheng tends to get brushed over a lot when it comes to some of the horrible things he’s done. From promising to protect Wei Wuxian from dogs only to immediately use them as a threat whenever he wants to to leading a siege on a group of people he knows are completely innocent of any crimes to torturing and killing people for thirteen years, he’s definitely not a good person. His concerns lie first and foremost with himself and his. That doesn’t seem like a horrible thing at first – he should owe his loyalty to himself, his family, and his sect – but it does mean that when the Xuanwu’s cave situation happened, his response was to get mad that Wei Wuxian helped Jin Zixuan and Lan Wangji. (And that’s why Jiang Fengmian got mad at him!). Later on, when pressure comes from the sects regarding Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng chooses not to stand with him, which, while understandable, isn’t exactly a kind move to someone who called Jiang Cheng his family and was trying to repay the debt the two of them owed Wen Qing. There’s no denying that he does care about Wei Wuxian, but when forced to make hard choices, he picks what’s easiest for himself. In general, I’d say that his sense of morality is selfish and somewhat flighty, but not necessarily questionable, so I’ll move on!

For the usual suspects, I’ll start with Xue Yang because I’m just going to immediately eliminate him from the running. I’ve seen people interpret his character sympathetically or try to justify some of his actions or the way he turned out, but I honestly just can’t. While you could feel sympathetic towards him because of his childhood, we have Wei Wuxian as a direct contrast to Xue Yang, as well as, to a certain degree, Jin Guangyao. Both Xue Yang and Wei Wuxian were street kids who had a horrible time in their youth, but Wei Wuxian was able to leave that behind him. That’s a lot easier to do when you’ve been adopted into a major sect and afforded comforts above your station (and also have terrible coping mechanisms), but even Jin Guangyao’s revenge isn’t quite as wide-spread and malicious. I know it may seem a bit obvious, anon, but some people really do try and treat Xue Yang like he’s morally dubious which confuses me a lot because how?? Even if we do say that he has suitable cause, one of the messages of the novel is that your past experiences don’t justify your future actions, so even within the context of the novel – a novel which is concerned with highlighting the grey areas of morality – Xue Yang isn’t afforded any sympathy. So, there’s really no way to construe him in a positive light. His only moments of kindness come with his time spent in Yi City with Xiao Xingchen, where Xue Yang doesn’t change much – he may have cared for Xiao Xingchen, but Xue Yang still tortured him as he did so. I never quite read that arc as Xue Yang learning to care or being allowed to be kind again so I’d just say that he lacks both morals and kindness. On that basis we can boot him from this competition. 

Jin Guangyao may have been one of the antagonists of the novel, but he wasn't a completely bad person or like The Worst. His main crimes involved getting revenge for slights against him or his mother – being from Nie Mingjue, Jin Guangshan, or any number of other cultivators. I think that, to an extent, his actions are justifiable. While you can contrast this to the way Wei Wuxian gets called a servant's son, they do differ in the fact that Wei Wuxian is afforded a higher level of protection due to him being favoured by Jiang Fengmian. Additionally, when Wei Wuxian does have his birth used against him, he's usually the person who acted out first anyway. Jin Guangyao was insulted for doing little more than exist and was never the person to act out first, yet still faced a near constant onslaught of insults. I'm not saying his actions were justified by any means, but the reasoning behind his actions is sound. The one thing I will note is that he doesn't let go of his grudges – even when everything is all done and dusted and he has everything that he could possibly want from life, he still holds onto that hatred. I remember seeing a post where someone mentioned that characters who were able to move on and change for the better were able to get their happy ending in MDZS, which isn't relevant here but definitely applies to Jin Guangyao when thinking about why he got the ending he did. I don't agree with the degree to which he enacted his revenge against certain characters and I loathe the whole Qin Su situation. I don't care how much he cries about it, he could've at least told her, but I mainly just pretend that part didn't exist. So, he has suitable cause for at least some of his actions, and his other victims can just be classified as necessary collateral rather than being intentional innocent targets, if that makes sense, but he's definitely vindictive and spiteful.

On the other hand, he did a lot of good, too. He's a side character for the most part so Jin Guangyao didn't get the most screen-time, but we do hear of some of the good things he's done. The main example would probably be the watchtowers. One of the interesting things about Jin Guangyao and Wei Wuxian is that while both of them are capable of kindness, the breadth and scope of Jin Guangyao's is much broader – the watchtowers are an idea that not only showcase how Jin Guangyao's upbringing allows him to see flaws in the cultivation world that the other privileged cultivators can't, but also show how he does care about the people. I've seen a few people try and play it as a spying technique but I don’t really believe that in the slightest. I mean, the point of the towers is to cover the areas where the sects aren't, so I have no idea what Jin Guangyao's people would even be spying on. Anyway, setting up those watchtowers really didn't benefit him any specific way – unless you consider him endearing himself to Lan Xichen and garnering a good reputation with the common folk something that outweighs the absolute nightmare it would have been to make the sects participate in the project to begin with. In a more specific case, Jin Ling's dog was given to him by Jin Guangyao. It's interesting that, despite Jin Ling spending the novel being trailed by Jiang Cheng, the gift that he obviously cares for deeply is from Jin Guangyao. In the Guanyin Temple scene I definitely got the sense that Jin Ling had loved and trusted Jin Guangyao before the truth came out so I'm firmly convinced that he would've been a wonderful and conscientious uncle to him and just generally good to the people who worked for him and/or the commoners.

Okay, now Wei Wuxian!! As far as I've seen, people are relatively good at staying true to his questionable sense of morality. Like with Jin Guangyao, we know that he can be vindictive and pretty excessive when it comes to getting his revenge, but I'm not going to deny that I was definitely rooting for him when he went after Wen Chao and his little gang. The main issue with Wei Wuxian is probably the demonic cultivation – the stigma against it tends to get reduced to it being bad for the user and their temperament etc. etc., but there's more to it than that. I'm no expert on Daoism by any means, but from my understanding desecration of corpses and disturbing the dead is a significant cultural taboo. This isn't just Wei Wuxian doing something no one else can do (though it certainly is true), it's also him doing something no one else should do. I've seen the massacre at Nightless City being added as another tally to his list of crimes, but I honestly think that that isn’t a crime worth adding – he needed to defend himself so he did, simple as that. 

As I mentioned above, Wei Wuxian's kindness is a bit more specific – where Jin Guangyao cares for the people, Wei Wuxian cares for individuals. We see his kindness more clearly, be it because he's the main character or be it because actions are clearer and stronger when it's for a single person or a small group. It's a bit easier, in my opinion, to care about people when you don't have to live with them and face them every day, but Wei Wuxian does. Even though Wei Wuxian led a lot more comfortable life than Jin Guangyao, we never really see Jin Guangyao get his hands dirty in the same way Wei Wuxian does. When a sacrifice needs to be made, Wei Wuxian’s the one who makes it. He doesn't relegate, he does it himself. We know that he would do absolutely anything for those he cares about and that's why he's able to commit a lot of the atrocities he does.

When it comes to deciding between Jin Guangyao and Wei Wuxian for most questionable morality, I think we need to look at the reasons behind their actions. Wei Wuxian’s sense of morality is definitely nowhere near that of the Lans but he has always been driven by his sense of justice and his love for those around him. In that sense, I've always read him as having a flexible sense of morality rather than a questionable one. I'm not sure how much of it ties in with his sense of duty, but it's definitely a lot. Wei Wuxian is, and always will, fill the role that is required of him – be it the childish and sweet younger brother, the talented but flippant older brother, the monster that wins the war, or the fierce protector that gives his all, Wei Wuxian will twist himself into whatever position he's needed in at that moment. Obviously, he went after Wen Chao for his own benefit, and the corrupting influence of the resentful energy does need to be factored into this, but at his core, Wei Wuxian will always value his duty (to his sect, family, friends, and innocents) and doing what is right over anything else. He may have stumbled along the way, but he did manage to form his own path to uphold all the values that he wanted to. Jin Guangyao, on the other hand, is similar to Jiang Cheng in how he's driven by his own motivations for betterment and revenge, albeit with more grace and intelligence. Jin Guangyao may masquerade as being motivated by any number of causes but he will never do anything at his own risk, and he will always be his top priority. So, while it's a close call between Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao, I'm going to have to go with Jin Guangyao on this one!

tldr; the fandom favourites for questionable morality are xy, jgy, and wwx so i mainly looked at them. I included jc as well but neither xy or jc demonstrate the dichotomy needed so they got eliminated from the running. Jgy and wwx both commit and are willing to commit horrible crimes as well as being capable of caring for others and being kind. but, where wwx is driven by his sense of justice and love for others, jgy is driven by his own motivations for betterment and revenge, making for a more questionable morality (as compared to wwx's more flexible morality).