#i had this sitting for a while in my inbox and somehow it got very long?

[incandescentia]

[INBOX] @maskednihilism asked:

Sampo's gonna tuck a strand of Seele's hair back behind her ear. "You need to look presentable to people. We can work on approachable later."

unprompted // always accepting!

It's not often that they held a formal party within the Underworld neighborhood. As far as Seele understands how Belobogian society works, that's mostly a thing for the people in the Overworld, especially those snobby elite ones. Although, if Bronya is also involved in this so-called party with the socialites && Wildfire members are also involved, it must be something important... right? Even Bronya herself was volunteering to be directly involved in her makeover process, voluntarily procuring a dress for her && directing some people to brush up her appearance. If only it wasn't for Bronya's ( as well as Nat's ) request for her to join along in this event, she would have quickly walked away with no slightest care.

The make-up that decorates her visage makes it feels like she's carrying an extra weight on her face as she's not quite used to them. Her movements are being restricted with how tight the dress' corset is wrapped around her waist area as well as the high stiletto heels that she's wearing. All of these combined && she's probably shooting daggers from her gaze right now, without any care for anyone's impression on her, && she could only wish for this so-called party to end quickly...

"...Huh?" A hand tucks several strands of straying dark hair into the back of her ear, accompanied by a similarly familiar voice. The appearance of the said person, however, is somewhat different from what she usually knows. A disguise? "Sampo? ...Is that you?" Being familiar enough with his antics, Seele could see through his disguise right away. The characteristic blue hair that is uncovered is already a dead ringer to her, though.

"Thanks for the friendly reminder," her tone is a little sarcastic as usual, but she truly means it. "But I'm not sure if you're invited here." Considering the guests are mostly Overworld elites && important key people in the Underworld, a scam artist like Sampo would likely be the very last person in mind they'd have to get an invitation.

[girlgenius1111]

one of your girls

alexia x jenni x leila x reader a celebration is in order after leila makes her return to the national team. smut, 18+. part of the rush verse... for context: Read Part One here Read Part Two here Read Part Three here Read Part Four here Read Part Five here Read Part Six here Read Part Seven here Read Part Eight here authors note: this is very much a co-written fic. it would not be what it is without @vixwritesagain. i can't really say enough about how incredibly & insanely talented vix is. however good you think she is, multiply it by like 10. and you'll feel how i feel after watching her write in real time. for every comment you leave, you better take your horny asses over to vix's inbox and give her all the love. <3

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“I-” You interrupted yourself, pressing a gentle kiss to Leila’s lips. “-Am so proud of you.” 

She grinned bashfully back at you, a rare show of shyness that few got to enjoy. “How proud?” 

“So proud, Lei. You were incredible. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” 

“Proud enough for a reward?”

You threw your head back and laughed at the hopeful expression on her face. 

“Definitely.” 

Leaning in eagerly, you sank into the kiss your girlfriend pressed to your lips. It only lasted a second, though. Leila’s arms kept you tightly held against her, even when you tried to pull away at the light knock at the door. You broke the kiss, but Leila just shifted, attaching her lips to your pulse point. 

“Lei?”

“Hmm?” Leila hummed. You could feel the grin on her face, and you were pretty sure you knew the answer to the question you were about to ask.

“Who is at the door?” 

Leila pulled back, ignoring the second knock at the door, this one harder and somehow more aggressive. “My reward.” She told you, smiling mischievously as you raised an eyebrow. 

“You… arranged your own reward?” Your lip twitched as Leila refused to look embarrassed. 

“Sí!” Leila said happily, giving you a gentle shove in the direction of the door. With a roll of your eyes, one that was really just for show, you padded over to the door and looked through the peephole. On the other side, Jenni was holding Alexia’s wrist with an amused smile. The blonde looked to be trying to convince her girlfriend to let her knock again. 

Fighting a smile of your own, you unlocked the door and swung it open.

“Hi, cari.” Jenni greeted easily. Next to her, Alexia remained silent, but the small curve of her lips at the sight of you had you fighting a smile of your own. You stepped to the side to allow the two women in, Jenni walking right past to head for your girlfriend. Alexia stopped next to you, though, looking hesitantly at your hand for a minute, before taking it in hers and tugging you further into the room.

“There she is. Ready to celebrate, Lei?" Jenni teased, flopping onto the bed next to your girlfriend, who seemed to be too excited to sit still. "I think you deserve something special for your first game back."

"You scored." Leila pointed out, but her bright grin gave away her delight.

"Jenni always scores." Alexia hummed with an unmistakable note of pride. "And she's always well rewarded for it."

Alexia shifted from your side and took a seat on the other side of Leila. You were left standing while all three women sat on the bed, but you didn’t mind watching them converse. Alexia made it clear that you were still on her mind when she addressed Leila, but spoke English.

“So we can start with you. What do you want your prize to be?” She husked.

“You can have whatever you want, Lei. I am sure you brought plenty of toys.” Jenni added. 

Leila nodded, looking between the two Spaniards on each side of her. Until this point, you weren’t quite sure where you fit into this. When Leila looked up at you, a twinkle in her eye, you were suddenly very sure where this was going. 

“I want you to fuck her.” She said nonchalantly, nodding her head in your direction. Jenni grinned, pulling the other brunette in until their lips met. Alexia turned to you instantly, confusion radiating off her. Even as she reached towards you, standing and pulling you closer by the hem of your shirt, she looked at Leila like she’d grown a third head. 

“For your reward… you want us to fuck your girlfriend? In front of you?” 

Leila tilted her neck to the side, allowing Jenni to begin to leave faint marks on her tan skin. “Sí.” She grinned, looking at Alexia expectantly. 

“That is what you want?” Alexia asked again. She grabbed at your shirt before you could move any closer to her, dragging it up and over your head, even as her attention was still fixed on your girlfriend. 

Leila giggled, and Jenni pulled away from her neck with a smirk on her face. She was highly amused at how Alexia was baffled at Leila’s willingness to share you, whilst simultaneously wasting no time in pawing at your bra. “What, Ale, do you want her to change her mind? Take your toy away from you?” 

At her girlfriend’s words, the blonde frowned. “No,” Alexia all but growled, seemingly looking to prove a point when she turned you both around, and pushed you onto the bed. She was on top of you within a second, and you let out a surprised huff at the sudden movement, raising your eyebrows at Alexia as she settled over you. Her hazel eyes were suddenly just inches from yours, pupils dilated and jaw clenched tightly as she regarded you. Then, her expression softened, just barely. 

“Vale?” She asked, waiting until you nodded to press her body down, her lips capturing yours in what you had come to know as a very Alexia kiss. Once Alexia got started, she didn’t stop. Even when she began running her hand over your bare abdomen, her kisses were demanding. Her mouth moved in sync with yours, anticipating your every move. Before you could part your lips and press your tongue into her mouth, she beat you to it. Before you could let out the content noise building inside of you, Alexia was exhaling harshly into your mouth. Kissing Alexia didn’t give you any space to think about anything but kissing her back. 

You barely heard Jenni clear her throat from next to you, but you did hear the annoyed grunt Alexia let out. 

“Ale,” Jenni called. 

“¿Qué quieres?” Alexia snapped, refusing to look at her girlfriend, instead moving her lips to trail down your neck and chest. 

“Oye. Leila said she wanted us to fuck her.” 

“So fuck her?” Alexia asked impatiently, giving her girlfriend an exasperated look. 

Jenni considered for a moment, before taking advantage of Alexia’s slightly off balance position over you. It only took a single gentle push from Jenni for Alexia to roll off of you with a small gasp. The brunette pulled you closer, and away from Alexia, craning her neck down so she could kiss you. 

You wondered how much time would need to pass before kissing Jenni felt unfamiliar. You’d gone years before, and more recently a few weeks without kissing her, but it still felt like the most natural thing in the world. 

You were rapidly pulled out of that more sentimental thought by Alexia gripping your chin and yanking your face towards hers. You leaned your head away instinctually at the harsh action, a bit startled at the contrast between Jenni’s gentle and Alexia’s rough. You weren’t sure what your hesitance was, but luckily Jenni gave you a moment to think. 

A hand on Alexia’s chest stopped her from moving in again. “What now?” She groaned. 

“Give her a second to catch up, Ale,” Jenni said. Her tone was both comforting and a tad  condescending. 

“I do not remember her needing a second last time.” Alexia grumbled, raising a single eyebrow at you. 

At the mention of last time, you flushed bright red. It was one thing to be between them again, and entirely another to remember the last time it had happened. To suddenly be sent spiralling, full force, into memories of that night. Those hours spent with Alexia, Jenni, and your girlfriend had served as an overwhelmingly hot distraction since. You thought about it in the car on the way to training, in the shower when your mind wandered. You even thought about it when you were with Leila, but seeing as though she was often the one to bring it up, you didn’t feel too guilty about that. A deep breath, in and out. Then, you forced yourself to relax into Jenni’s arms and looked expectantly at Alexia. 

“Get on with it, Putellas.” You said impatiently, refusing to give in to the midfielder’s blazing gaze. Leila chuckled from where she sat on the edge of the bed, smugly grinning at Alexia. The blonde’s gaze flickered to her for a second, then back to your lips. 

Alexia licked into your mouth, hot, wet and demanding. The hand on your jaw slid down until it cuffed your neck. You could feel Jenni’s hand wandering over the swaths of bare skin, then teasing at the waistband of your sweats. 

Groaning into her girlfriend’s mouth, your own palm found Jenni’s bicep. Your legs squeezed together at the tense of her muscles, shifting against the sheets to feel the heat of them both. 

“Needy.” Jenni accused as your hips squirmed when she stroked over them. 

You were quick to pull away from Alexia, twisting to the striker. “More, Jen.” 

Jenni chuckled, lifting her hand to press your stray hairs behind your ear. “Oh, you think you're in charge now?”

Alexia ducked down to kiss at your neck, shifting her hand only a fraction to give herself some space. You could feel her move, kneeling on the bed at your side. 

“Just-” You squeaked as Alexia unceremoniously groped at your covered chest. 

“Just?” Jenni sang, reaching her hand down to pull at the drawstrings of your pants. “Just let us play. Take what we give you and maybe we’ll let you come.”

Alexia pulled at the cups of your bra, exposing both breasts to the cool of the A/C at the same time. The shock was short lived. Half a second, then her hot mouth covered one. 

Gasping, your hand cradled her head to hold her against you. Her tongue swirled around your nipple, feeling it harden with every pointed flick. With the speed of someone who had down this many times, Alexia unclipped your bra with one hand, sliding it away. Her mouth never left your body.

You hardly registered Jenni slipping off the bed to stand. Her fingers made quick work of the knot and before you could so much as whine, she pulled the sweats down your legs. 

You could already feel the wetness between them, but if it wasn’t crystal clear, Jenni made it so when she pressed your thighs open. She let out a breathy groan before bending between them to mouth at the tender skin. 

A sharp bite to your nipple made you jolt. Jenni’s fingers dug in, holding your legs open as your back arched. 

“Again.” The striker demanded. 

Alexia switched sides instantly, gently grazing her teeth over your breast before sucking at the peak. She waited until your nipple was hard and sensitive before biting down. 

“Fuck!” You whined as your eyes tried to focus on the swirls of the hotel room ceiling. 

Then came Jenni’s thumb, stroking up and down your underwear to let you feel how wet you’d grown. Just a few seconds, then the heat of her mouth kissing at the fabric. Your hips bucked against her at the tease. 

Jenni hummed back, pecking at your thighs once more. “Ale. Get behind and spread her for me.” You could feel her hot breath between your legs before her fingers hooked on the waistband of your underwear.

As you helped - squeezing your legs together enough for Jenni to pull the fabric away - Alexia shifted. Strong hands pushed and pulled, manhandling your body until your back pressed against her t-shirt. A peck to your neck, then her hands slid to your inner thighs and spread them wide. 

“How does she look?” Alexia asked as your head dropped back onto her shoulder. 

“So pretty for us.” Jenni hummed. “And so wet. Can you see how wet she is, Lei?” 

You forced your eyes open, scanning the room until you found your girlfriend, comfortably reclined in the armchair in the corner of the room. You recalled the chair being in a different spot yesterday; Leila must have moved it earlier to give herself a better view. 

Your girlfriend didn’t have her signature smile on her face. Instead, she frowned slightly at Jenni, her forehead creasing in what you knew to be faux concern. “I can see.” Leila sighed. “I get her wetter.” 

There was no jealousy behind your girlfriend's words. Just some playful disappointment, and a hint of a challenge. And while you knew if the comment had been directed at Alexia, she would have let her competitiveness take over, Jenni did not. 

“It is more fun to take it slow. Make her beg for us. Right Ale?” 

Alexia hummed in response, one of her hands sliding up your midsection to pinch at one of your nipples. 

“You think I don’t make her beg?” Leila laughed. 

Jenni pulled away, turning her neck slightly to reply to Leila, but you had lost your patience. You grabbed the back of her head and attempted to bring her closer to your core. Jenni froze, showing an enormous amount of neck strength as she fixed her gaze on your face. 

Her hazel eyes stared into yours as she cocked an eyebrow, daring you to keep testing her. You waited a beat before begrudgingly pulling your hand away from Jenni’s head. 

“She just needs to look at you, bebé? And you’ll do whatever she wants?” Leila teased. 

Cheeks turning red, you shut your eyes and relaxed back into Alexia while you flipped your girlfriend off. You felt the blonde behind you smile into your neck, returning her hand to your leg to keep them spread wide.

 Jenni worked with a renewed passion, now, showing that she definitely had taken Leila’s comment to heart. Her tongue moved expertly. It didn’t matter how many times Jenni went down on you, it would always be shockingly good. 

“Tell me how Jenni’s mouth feels.” Alexia demanded. Her voice was quiet but her tone left no room for negotiation. 

“Good,” you breathed. You knew it wouldn’t be enough when Alexia’s hands tightened their grip on your thighs. 

“More. I have heard I am supposed to work on my English.” 

You struggled to force your mind to focus, especially as Jenni’s tongue quickened its strokes over your clit. Your hips rolled against her, picking up her fast rhythm as much as they could with Alexia holding you open.

“She feels… her mouth is hot.” You sighed, not entirely sure you were making much sense. 

“Hot.” Alexia repeated. “What else?” 

“She’s- I’m close,” you groaned, shivering at the harsh licks. “I’m really close.” 

“Sí? Are you going to come all over Jenni’s face?” Alexia cooed. Her tone was mocking and it shouldn’t have pushed you towards the edge the way it did. 

“Yeah,” you managed, your back arching slightly off of Alexia’s body. You were so close, just needing a hint more pressure from Jenni’s tongue, a touch more stimulation. 

“Don’t tell us. Tell Leila.” Alexia whispered, her words hot on your ear. 

“Lei, I- fuck,” You tried. One of your hands found its way to tangle in Jenni’s hair as you tried to bring her closer, make her go faster. “Lei I’m gonna come,” 

“Go ahead, bebé.” Leila sang. You could hear the bright smile in her voice. 

Jenni pressed her face closer, taking your clit into her mouth and sucking. Hard. That was all it took for you to cry out as your orgasm broke. One of your hands tightened in Jenni’s hair, the other frantically grabbing at the sheets as your hips bucked against her face. 

“There you go,” Alexia hummed. “Tan rápido.” You should have been suspicious at how gentle she was being, but you weren’t in the right mindset to do so. Instead, you were completely focused on Jenni’s tongue still flicking against you. You were coming down hard when you felt one of Jenni’s fingers teasing at your tight cunt. You flinched, but Alexia’s strong arms held you firm. 

“Jesus Jenni,” You cried as she pressed inside. 

It was more understandable why Alexia was being so nice. Especially when she banded one arm around your stomach and reached her hand up to grip your throat. She didn’t tighten her fingers. Her hand just rested there, giving a glimpse of the control you knew Alexia was dying to show. 

Hands occupied, Alexia couldn’t stop your lower body from moving. Your legs twitched and squirmed as one finger became two. The stimulation was just on the edge of being too much. Jenni knew what she was doing though, pulling away from your clit for the moment and focusing on pumping her fingers in and out of your pussy. It was a quicker build up this time, and you were getting close to finishing frighteningly quickly. 

Jenni’s fingers curled and twisted perfectly, hitting different spots with every thrust. You could hear how soaked you were, listening to the wet slide of Jenni’s fingers in and out of you. The sound alone was dizzying, and the feeling was otherworldly. 

“Jen,” You moaned again, not sure what you were trying to tell her. It was almost too much, but you definitely didn’t want her to stop. 

“Cari?” Jenni asked innocently, a third finger teasing at your entrance.

“Fuck!” 

“That’s what I’m doing.” Jenni smirked, pressing the third inside. “Now be good and make a mess on my fingers. And then I’ll let Ale have a turn.” 

Alexia’s spare hand danced over your bare skin while her fingers tightened around your throat. It was just enough to restrict your airflow, and an overwhelming sensitivity seemed to take over every nerve ending in your body. You shivered, clumsily reaching up to place your hand over Alexia’s. 

She could feel your rapid pulse under her fingers, hear the quiet whimpers finding their way out of your mouth. “Venga.” She whispered impatiently, “I want to fuck you.”

The hiss of words in your ear did it. A loud whine left your mouth as you came, the muscles in your abdomen tightening as you went hurtling over the edge. The pleasure was mind numbing, blinding, and you were unaware of what your body was doing until it began to ebb.

You practically went limp against Alexia a minute later, a long exhale escaping your mouth as Jenni’s fingers pulled out of your tight centre. 

“Good?” Jenni chuckled. 

You didn’t reply, your attention instead focused on Jenni’s slick fingers reaching up to push into Alexia’s mouth. Alexia parted her lips eagerly, and you noted somewhere in your mind that it was the easiest you had ever seen Alexia comply with what Jenni wanted. You watched as Alexia licked at her girlfriend’s fingers. Her lips closed around them and she began to suck, grunting lowly at the taste of you.

Suddenly, the warmth of Jenni was missing from in between your legs, her fingers extracting themselves from Alexia’s mouth. Together, Jenni and Alexia shifted you over and away, leaving you resting comfortably against the pillows.

You couldn’t help but pout at the loss of contact. Your bare skin left you exposed against the sheets, the only one in the room to be naked.

“You look so pretty waiting for them.” Leila said quietly, more than a hint of affection in her voice. You relaxed into the pillows, feeling your face flush slightly at the way in which Leila’s eyes bore into yours. 

“Leila, ¿así es como se hace su maleta? Es un desastre.” Alexia asked, frowning in disgust as she rifled through the suitcase. 

“She asked you here to fuck her girlfriend, not insult her packing skills.” Jenni flicked her lightly on the ear. “Lei, which is your favourite?” 

The striker held up two dildos, as if she was asking which beverage Leila wanted. As if you couldn’t feel the phantom of both pressing inside of you. 

“Left. But there is another in there she likes more.” 

“Dónde? Debajo de este suéter feo?” Alexia mumbled quietly, ignoring the look Jenni sent her way. 

“Hurry up.” You cut in, your voice embarrassingly whiny.

Frustratingly, neither Alexia nor Jenni even glanced in your direction. They continued to bicker quietly, this time over who got to wear what strap, and you shared an amused smile with your girlfriend. The argument was decided with Alexia silenced by a look you’d never seen on her girlfriend’s face before. 

The two harnesses and two dildos were left on the desk as Alexia reached for the hem of her girlfriend’s shirt, but Jenni swatted her hand away with a roll of her eyes. “This is not about you Ale. Ask Leila if she wants us naked.” 

“I want you naked.” You commented from the bed, sighing in frustration when all you got was an amused look from Jenni. 

“Ouahabi?” Alexia asked impatiently, slowly pulling at Jenni’s shirt as if she was going to sneak it off her. 

The defender hummed. “If you want to come in her pussy, you should take your clothes off, no?”

All was still for a second, then Jenni grinned and slid her hands under Alexia’s shirt. They undressed each other impatiently, not sparing a second to take the other in as more and more smooth skin was revealed. 

You took it all in, though, watching with your jaw hanging open as muscular abs and quads and biceps and everything went on display. You only snapped out of your daze when both women had secured the straps to themselves, turning to you with downright evil grins on their faces. 

You only had time to look fleetingly at Leila, comforted just enough by the warm brown of her eyes that were on you, and only you.  

You were sitting up when Alexia moved across the mattress and settled between your legs. She pushed at your chest, sending you back into the pillows, before she pushed your legs apart. Your eyes were stuck on Alexia’s muscular form. You could have sworn she was flexing as she smirked down at you. 

“Bebé?” Leila called. Alexia frowned when you instantly tore your attention from her, and looked towards your girlfriend. “I want you to be good for them, sí?” 

You nodded, ready and willing to do whatever any of them asked. 

Alexia flicked at your nipple, startling your attention back to her. 

“And I want you to be loud.” She stated, shifting her hips forward so the tip of the strap pressed against you. The heat of her thighs nudged up against your own. “Shouldn't be hard for you. Let Leila hear how well I fuck her whore.” 

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part 1 of 4 :)

[gendercomsumer]

hiii ^^ I would like some headcanons for riddle, malleus, vil and rook with a fem mc that accidentally ends up making them laugh (because what she says or does is very random xd maybe an example would be like jennifer lawrence sjjs she is very funny ) well that's all, thanks and take care <3

Riddle, Malleus, Vil, and Rook with an S/O who can make them laugh with the most random things

A/N: Hello to you too Anon! I know this has been in my inbox for gods knows how long- But thank you still for sending this in! I hope this is to your liking! I actually did watch some Jennifer Lawrence videos for inspiration and I have to agree the comedic timing she has is perfect!! I also used some google translate in Rooks part so it may not be accurate ^^;

Characters: Riddle, Malleus, Vil, and Rook

Warnings: Cursing to a mild degree, playful mention of stalking in Rooks (I love him I swear!!!), lightly proof read

Fem!Reader

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is a bit difficult to get a good genuine laugh out of, at least in my opinion.

Like sure you have a small chuckle when he finds something amusing, but i feel like it'd be a bit of a challenge to get a good genuine laugh out of.

Then you came in, saying the strangest things at the most unrelated times!

And Ace and Deuce find this absolutely hilarious

You'll say the most out of pocket shit with the straightest face and somehow half the people around you start to laugh some others breaking out in giggles

Ace and Deuce have definitely talked about this 'talent' of yours, at least in their words.

You had said some of these strange comments around Riddle and he found them strange a bit endearing as well

I'd think the time you got a good laugh out of him was when you had come with him to take care of some of the hedgehogs

The two of you were sitting in the grass some of the hedgehogs were playing while a few had decided that climbing on the two of you was a good way to pass the time

One had wandered up onto your head and almost fell off but luckily you were able to save the little guy before he fully hit the ground

After Riddle worriedly checked the little guy over you while looking over his shoulder at the small animal said:

"Well at least we know this one has no self preservation"

Unwillingly, or maybe subconsciously, a small laugh makes it's way through Riddles chest to his lips.

Well, now maybe he saw what those two were blabbering on about

Your little comments were always appreciated with Riddle

Even if they didn't cause him to laugh they did brighten his mood at least somewhat

"Yes, this one does tend to be a bit of a handful. Reminds me of a certain rose I know"

He teased before you two fell back into the pattern of caring for the small animals

More chuckles and comments to come no doubt

Malleus Draconia

At first Malleus didn't understand why the rest of Diasomnia found your remarks so comical

Yes his child of man did tend to bring a certain warmth where ever she walked

But he didn't see this as an excuse for the amount of laughter you cause people around you

Most of the remarks you make will fly over his head

I'm sorry but he seems like the kind of guy to not get the joke until you explain it to him-

Now the Thorn Prince does share a few chuckles with those around him when he finds something amusing, similar to Riddle

But it's even more difficult to get a laugh out of him considering he doesn't get a lot of the play on words type of jokes

but something abrupt and slightly out of context?

I feel like that would get some sort of laugh out of him

One day you were talking with Malleus about some of the things you did in your old world

The topic of amusement parks came up and you started listing the rides you used to go on as a child

Roller coasters, bumper cars, lazy rides where you could relax, until you blanked on the name of a ride

It was frustrating considering it was probably something simple and you would remember it after their conversation, but you wanted to keep the ball rolling

Malleus mean while was partly enjoying seeing how frustrated you got over a simple word

You really were a strange thing weren't you Child of man?

"I'm sorry Mal- I know what I'm thinking of! It's on the tip of my tongue- It's like one of those horse tornado things!"

Horse.. tornado..?

Now that got Malleus attention

he understood the other rides you described, favoring the lazy rides

but what ever this horse tornado was... it sounded.. strange, yet curious at the same time

"CAROUSELS!! FUCKING CAROUSELS, THAT'S WHAT THEY'RE CALLED!"

Malleus let out a small puff of air before he started chuckling under his breath

You truly were a strange one weren't you child of man, just like the world you came from

Malleus pressed a kiss to your forehead letting out one more chuckle before speaking

"Truly fascinating, maybe one day you could bring me to one of these 'horse tornados' you have me interested"

Sure jokes your fly over his head, but he would tease you some what for your small skips in memory

Vil Schoenheit

Now Vil, having acted in a lot of movies, (If I'm correct) Would have probably had a few good laughs in that line of work

Weather that be on set or behind the cameras

But he doesn't often let out a good laugh in public, it's not really part of the proper image he'd want to put out there

As for behind closed doors or with close friends he's definitely willing to have a laugh

And who better to bring a smile to his face than his lovely sweet potato?

Though one good moment always stuck out to him that caused him to have one of the most genuine laughs in awhile

The two of you were getting ready to go out to a fancy restaurant, courtesy of Vil of course, hair, makeup, shoes things like that

While Vil was sitting at his vanity working on his eyes when you came out of the bathroom in a stunning dress hand picked by Vil

It brought out all your best features while still being enough coverage to where it wasn't uncomfortable to wear into a public area

The two of you made idle conversation as you sat on a near by chair to slip on a matching set of heels for the dress

As you stood up in the heels to work on your own makeup you lost your balance thanks to the new height the heels provided

Although Vil was quick to catch you making sure you came no where near the floor he still was concerned

"Oh sweet potato are you alright? What happened?"

Yes looking back on it the question seemed dumb but he was concerned

but you just let out a giggle while regaining your balance before saying:

"Well I'm not sure what happened, but I remember wanting to yell 'fuck' as my last words before I embarrassed myself"

Vil took a moment while looking at you

then a chuckle escaped his lips which soon turned into the two of you sharing a small laugh

Now Vil doesn't know why he laughs at your antics, in hindsight they're just normal phrases

But maybe it's the delivery?

Or the way you smile at him?

What ever it may be it always causes a smile to grace his lips or a chuckle to be drawn from him

Sure Vil maybe all about preserving beauty and making sure he looks flawless

But if he happens to get a few smile lines because of your antics, he will never hold it against you

"Well my darling, I'm glad to hear you're alright. It would be a shame if you or your lovely dress got roughed up before we left. Now come, you still want to do your makeup don't you? Allow me to help"

Rook Hunt

Now Rook has plenty of laughs in his life

Weather that be from stalking some poor soul or a genuine laugh among friends

Rook out of the four is probably the easiest to get a laugh from

He's a joyful guy wanting to see all nature and the world has to offer! Can you blame him?

Then enters you who some how can't help but leave Rook giggling when ever you do something!

You put your tie on wrong? Oh silly Trickster aren't you just the sweetest thing!

Then comes your words which to Rook is a whole new ball park

Rook tends to hold onto every word meant for him, weather that be written or spoken out loud

His darling Tricksters words are so elegant and so sweet how could he not treasure everyone!

What really gets him chuckling and laughing is the moments when your words aren't as sweet and graceful

Cut to one day when you and Rook were in the fields often used for flying class

Rook had a desire to teach you archery so he happened to drag you along with a quiver and bow to some targets set by his hand

After the first few moments of Rook teaching you how to properly hold and aim the bow and making sure your arm guard was secure (He wouldn't want his darling trickster to get rope burn!) He let you shoot

All was going well as you hit targets in an... acceptable way

But all that seemed to end when a large gust of wind sent your best shot yet off course and into the ground

And just as Rook was about to offer some encouragement to keep going and try once more

some colorful language came from you to say the least

"Wind!? Really!?! Could you not wait two fucking minuets!! Nooooo! You just had to thro my best shot off course you-!"

Now don't get Rook wrong he hold the sweet words you two share close to his heart

But there was just something about you yelling at the wind of all things that caused him to start laughing

As he laid on the grass of the field eyes closed as he laughed

Oh? It seems your colorful language is directed towards him now? Even better!

"Trickster- reine de mon coeur! Please I believe- I believe you have shared plenty enough words with the wind today!"

A/N: This is actually the first time I've taken a good look at the name of Malleus' dorm. Dia = Dragon. Somnia = Sleep

Diasomnia = Dragon of sleep

just a ting i found silly :)

[colonelarr0w]

Just thinking about tracing Suguru's scar.

Word Count - 0.9k

A/N - I dedicate this piece to the Anon that flooded my inbox with 30+ messages telling me how it was canon that Gojo didn't have any scars.

Read the Gojo version here!

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

GETO never let you see his scars after he received them — suddenly he was covering himself up with thick sweaters and baggy clothes. You noticed … you always noticed.  

But you said nothing, not wanting to draw unwanted attention to something that he was very clearly adamant on keeping hidden.  

One night, however, your curiosity got the better of you. You didn’t mean to pry as much as you did, but you desperately wanted Geto to know that you weren’t going to suddenly start looking at him differently because of some raised skin — you wanted him to be comfortable around you. 

You wanted things to be like they were before. 

He was different. You could see it as clear as day.  

His hugs didn’t last as long as they once did, instead of bear hugs that he wouldn’t pull away from unless you did first, you received a half-assed sideways squeeze.  

It felt like he didn’t want to be touching you in fear of contaminating you, like you would catch some otherworldly disease that didn’t yet have a cure. It hurt you – it stung in a way that nothing else could compare to.  

When you sat on the couch beside him, he would scoot a few inches away from you. 

When you laid down to take a nap beside him, he’d offer you only his pinky and nothing else.  

When you went to embrace him, his body would angle itself so that his shoulder rested against your chest.  

“Suguru?” you whisper to him under the cloak that night provided, turning to face him properly. He mimics you, rolling onto his side and propping himself up with the use of his elbow, palm resting against the side of his face.  

“Hmm?” he hums in response, eyes studying your expression. His face pinches in slight concern at your narrowed eyes and furrowed brows — something was very clearly upsetting you.  

“Are we okay?”  

He pauses, staring quizzically at you as if you had somehow sprouted another head. His free hand extends, finger rubbing affectionately against your cheek.  

“Course we are. Why do you ask?” he murmurs, breath catching in his throat as you push yourself to sit up. Your legs cross, one ankle over the other while you maintain eye contact with Geto.  

Your mind reminds you of what he had been doing; the behaviors that he had been displaying. What wasn’t he telling you? 

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, not wanting to accidentally make a big deal out of something that could otherwise be nothing. 

“What are you hiding from me?” you whisper, already feeling tears build on your waterline at Geto’s shocked (and worried) expression. He looked so conflicted, so unsure that it made your heart crack.  

And even though he wants to believe that he has no idea what you’re referencing … he does.  

He looks away from you, and even though it’s only for a moment, it only makes your heart sink deeper into your stomach. “It’s—“ 

“Please don’t sit there and tell me it’s nothing,” you practically beg, voice cracking. Geto lets out a small sigh through his nose, adjusting himself so that he sits in front of you.  

“(Y/N)—“ he begins, but the way that you shake your head at him only makes him feel guilty, “—are you sure?” 

Your silence tells him everything that he needs to know.  

Slowly, and albeit very hesitantly, Geto lifts his shirt, revealing an ‘X’ shaped scar on his chest. Your breath hitches at the sight of it, the sound making Geto flinch.  

He tosses the shirt aside with a barely audible plop, not daring to make eye contact with you in fear of what expression you wore. So instead of glancing at you, Geto forces his eyes shut.  

They shoot right back open at the feeling of your fingers lightly tracing his chest.  

Shocked, his eyes flicker up to watch you. Your eyebrows are slightly pinched together, a worried indent to your forehead as your nails slowly move over the raised skin.  

You don’t say anything to him, not that you really need to. You knew that this — this gentle touch — was what Geto needed. He didn’t need half-assed reassurances that carried no weight. 

No, what he needed to know was that you were here, right with him, at his side — you weren’t going anywhere.  

Your finger reaches the end of where his scar slightly raises his skin. You shift forward, laying your palm against the center of the ‘X’, feeling Geto’s heart thumping against your fingers.  

He says nothing. You say nothing.  

Your eyes flicker up to meet his own. He returns your softened glance.  

“You’re so handsome Sugu … you know that, right?” you whisper tenderly, finally breaking the silence. The sigh he lets out in response is shaky, tear-filled.  

Before Geto has the chance to shake his head, your lips are on his scar, the softness of you contrasting greatly with the roughness of his skin.  

You glance back up at him, letting out a shocked squeak as he tugs you into his arms. Your head tucks into the crook of his neck, arms winding around his midsection.  

His breath shudders as his nose tucks into your hair. “Thank you.” 

You smile against him, turning your head and laying a chaste kiss against the skin of his throat. Your arms momentarily tighten around him, eyes closing in content. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too angel … thank you.” 

[hoseoksluna]

MIST | myg ft. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x oc (feat. jungkook)

genre: angst, smut

word count: 11.3k

summary: one encounter with jungkook makes you forget about your boyfriend.

playlist: mist / pinterest board: mist

warnings: the unfolding of polyamory, provocation, cuckold kink, cum eating, oc and yoongi fight, use of vulgar names, mentions of female masturbation, punishment, spanking, hair pulling, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, nipple play, disobedience, use of a sex toy, multiple orgasms, yoongi isn't comfortable with a certain sexual practice at first, spit kink, oc feels pain and likes it

note: it's here, you guys oh my god. this is part two of STEAM. i thought this would have only two parts, but when i got to the end, it was evident that it needs another one. i worked hard on this, guys. if you haven't read my little updates, i was literally sick today and threw up my breakfast, but i still somehow managed to get this writing done, so make sure you let me know how much you love this, hate this, what you expect and what you're feeling. pls!!! my inbox is open for you always x enjoy reading, love you all. ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

side note: HOBI'S NEW ALBUM IS OUT SLDKFJSDLFJSFJSLDF.

The night is feverish. 

So much that small pearls of its perspiration settle over the arc of your hand, between your thumb and your index, peeking from beneath the enfolding of your crossed legs. It’s as if the darkened heavens were hot and bothered while eavesdropping on the conversation you’re having with the two males sitting by the table, one right next to you and the other across from you. Even the clouds have halted their drift and the stars… they haven’t dared to blink, focused entirely on the question slipping from the mouth of the male you’ve known the least amount of time. 

Is this gonna be a one time thing? 

You will your mind to be empty, for if you allow yourself to think about it, your answer is as clear as the flare of those lights above. And you don’t want to voice out how much you like the idea of the sex being continual in fear of being turned down, in fear of Jungkook wanting this to be a one night only matter. What’s worse, you’re terrified of awakening Yoongi’s wrath. You believe the wine in your hand is the only bitterness you can manage to swallow. 

Oh.

You chuckle. 

A mist blankets your shoulders, the softest of summer drizzles. A briskness that steals your attention from the double meaning swarming in your brain. But when you lift your eyes to welcome in the small rain, it’s Jungkook’s gaze that you meet. Dark eyelashes, heavied down by the weight of the half-drunk bottle of red that you and him have been drinking. An ivory swirl of brightness glossing over dilated pupils, fixated on you. On your own blurry left eye, the sheen of your mouth, past your neck to the shimmery glow of your collarbones and your right eye. The coldness of the mist thickens, yet it’s not the reason behind your gooseflesh. No, it’s quite far from it. 

What roughens your skin is that very intentional stare. The slight narrowness to his once perpetually round eyes as he, for a mere second, shifts his gaze from your boyfriend back to you, adamantly expecting a response, one you refuse to have. It’s such a stark change to his countenance that, besides being stirred by it, you’re completely in awe of it. The smooth forehead, the slightly raised brow and smug mouth, now adorned with a lip ring that wasn’t there before. You don’t find the good man with purity in his eyes that, days ago, made a ruckus out of your life sitting before you, but someone else entirely. 

A man, whose arousal emanates out of him like fragrance, seeping into your fresh mango scent scattered along the perimeters of your skin. 

A man, like Yoongi had predicted, came to you like a puppy through him, asking you out for dinner. 

Horny puppy. You squeeze your legs, hiding your faint smile behind the rim of your wine glass, tilting the carmine nectar into your mouth. Jungkook examines the bobble of your throat, the dart of your tongue as the muscle drifts across the rosy brownness of your bottom lip and you’re heedful of it—a moonlight personified, the mist around you like the clouds clinging to that planetary body.

Jungkook calls you by your name. “What’s funny?” 

A momentary stillness. You thought your soft laughter was unheard. Your brain goes empty, mouth parts, the entirety of your vocabulary vanishes— 

“I think that’s something we decide after the night is over,” Yoongi answers Jungkook’s question lowly, propping a strong palm on the cloth of the table. The wet breeze dampens his hair, leaves a glow to his pale face. You wonder how he feels—if he’s still as okay with it as he was while fucking the life out of you—if he’s now, perhaps, facing some internal doubts that you know nothing of, that he hides beneath his words. “A collective decision.” 

He looks at you and beams at you with a tight-lipped smile. An expression that conveys that he wants this for you. You let out a sigh of relief, placing your hand on top of his and Yoongi makes a space for your fingers to fold in between his. Like he always does when he’s giving you backshots. 

A gooseflesh changed for hot flashes. You become the night, its fever thudding inside your lit skin. A familiar ache begins to grow in between your legs, demanding it. As if Jungkook’s lustful expression and energy wasn’t enough, your boyfriend had to remind you of something so intimate. 

You want both of them—right now.

Jungkook’s gape falls on your intertwined hands. Lover’s grasp. You note recognition, and perhaps a flashback, pulses with a dimmed light for a mere heartbeat in his eyes. It worsens your ache and, like Yoongi’s hair, you feel your panties dampen under your dress. You squeeze your thighs one more time before you untangle your legs, your heels clanging on the concrete, your knee bumping into Jungkook’s.

So close to him, yet so far away. 

You let yourself dream about how he fucks. Rough strokes, those muscled thighs straddling you—

“You agree with this?” 

A question from him directed towards you. Your throat dries up, dizzy from being pulled back to Earth. You take a long sip of your wine, but it doesn’t help your state. On the contrary, the buzz of the alcohol makes you tremble all over, intensifying your lightheadedness. You want to be fucked. Multiple times. Until you can’t walk. 

You wet your lips. “Of course,” you say, squeezing Yoongi’s fingers once, twice, letting him know through your own version of Morse code how horny you’re becoming, hoping he gets the memo. “It’s smart. If we made the decision now, who’s to say you won’t get sick of me?” 

Your response hurt you and you cringe, regretting your words. Your knuckles turn white, the breeze brushes through your hair and you relax your hold. Let out a hard breath. 

If he got sick of you after fucking you, you’d hate yourself for the rest of your life. Move out to a cave, far from civilization, so no one would see you ever again. 

Jungkook raises his brows, shaking his head. The smug smile on his lips remains, as if sewn into his skin. You wish you could wipe it away and straddle him right here in front of everyone—

“Sweetheart, don’t think that. I won’t get sick of you.” He toys with the foot of his wine glass, fingers moving it in slow circles as though he was—

Such a fucking tease. 

Your clit throbs. You won’t think that, all right. You’ll keep your mind empty and stupid just for him. 

You watch the movement of his digits, smiling slyly. The night rushes within you and, mentally, you wrap a collar around your neck in order to stop yourself from crawling across the table and taking a seat on his lap. A yearning forms. A yearning to feel the semi you know full well he’s sporting in his pants. You bite your lip, squeezing Yoongi’s hand again. He merely chuckles, aware of what the pair of you is doing and it’s too much for you. 

You need a dick rearranging your guts. Right now. 

Perhaps, two. 

You stifle a groan. 

“Tell you what. I have a cabin out in the mountains. With toys,” Jungkook says and you widen your eyes, his deep voice fraternizing with the night in you. Toys as in…? “An hour away from here. I can show you there how much I’m willing to not get sick of you.” 

Yoongi’s chuckle amplifies and you’re struck. Fucked up. Your cunt drools, ruining your panties. Your cheeks flush. Feverish, beyond feverish—you’re on fire. Your breathing gains speed and fuck. Toys? 

You have no thoughts. All that your brain is filled with is dick. Two dicks. 

Yoongi lifts his hand, unsnarling your intertwinement, and he sneaks it beneath your dress. His fingers feel up the drenched material of your underwear and hums. You reckon he already expected to find you wet and his sound of approval coaxes more of your dewiness to try and come into contact with him, but to your dismay and his, the fabric stands in the way. 

For two beats of time, Yoongi puts pressure on your clit as he feels up more of you and, faintly, so no one hears, you mewl, hiding your face beneath your palm. You swallow your whine for more, instead you sigh, camouflaging your moment of weakness. Bury your gaze into Yoongi’s, silently pleading him to take you home. 

Yoongi only smirks down at you before he faces Jungkook. “She’s wet. I think it’s safe to say she’d like that.” 

You slap his arm and Yoongi takes his hand away. The men laugh and you feel terrible, but not for long. You decide to take charge of the energy. 

“What kind of toys?” You will your voice to be confident and it’s only a split of it that comes out. You don’t mind—it’s enough because it silences their laughter, seriousness taking place instead. 

Jungkook licks his lips, adjusting in his seat—like Yoongi during that video call—and you sense it moving through you. You also feel the need to adjust, to peel your panties away from your cunt, discomfort seizing you a little. “I’ll show you tomorrow. Or the weekend after that?” Your eyes widen in panic. No—no, you can’t wait that long. He smiles fondly at you, sensing your emotions. “Tomorrow, then.”

You sigh in relief, downing your wine, but Jungkook isn’t done with you. 

“Will you pack your little red robe?” 

You choke. 

Amidst the chaos of the situation, you didn’t even realize he saw you. You didn’t even detect his eyes drifting that low. Thought Yoongi’s body colliding into you prevented him from seeing your intimate nighttime attire, but then you grasp that due to your shock, you might have missed that. 

Jungkook’s smirk widens. 

Oh, you want to say you’ll pack your little lace number that Yoongi particularly likes, along with your garters and stockings, though you opt to say something else entirely. You decide you want to steam him a tiny bit. Dominate the energy. Make him uneasy. For ulterior motives. 

“Will you brush off the cobwebs on your condoms  when packing or should I buy you new ones?” You quirk your brow, finger wiping away the drop of red that slipped out of the corner of your mouth. It’s all just talk—you want him to fuck you raw—a straight allusion to his loneliness that Yoongi told you about. Amused, Jungkook’s darkened eyes follow your movement. 

“Will you lick that finger?” 

You’re convinced your bloodstream came to a standstill. You don’t breathe, you don’t hear anything—your entire being becomes him, melding with the night, the moonlight. It’s him who now erases your brain. Yoongi touches your thigh, his fingers skimming the bare skin, but you don’t feel them. No, you pierce your gaze through Jungkook’s, penetrating right into his soul. And you simply decide that you want to own it. 

So much for steaming. 

“Do you want me to?” you retort, fluttering your lashes, the smile you give him as seductive as moonlight fluttering in you. You tap your finger on your bottom lip. Watch as his hand drifts somewhere beneath the table. 

He taps your knee in the same, identical beat. And, instinctively, you widen your legs. Your other knee bumps into Yoongi’s thigh. 

His first touch on your skin. You burn. Thank the heavens for slipping the idea inside your mind to wear a short dress. You inhale a breath in. Bite your lip, impatient for his answer. Tense your body so your trembles aren’t evident. You want to be strong, confident, despite the fact your body longs to submit to Jungkook—to be at his complete disposal, to be his, his to smooth down those quivers. 

Jungkook spreads his fingers along the roundness of your knee. Caresses you once. Then, nods. “Lick it for me.” 

Your heart jumps out of your chest. Right into his glass of wine. A flashback fills your brain—Yoongi saying familiar words to you on the night that perpetually changed your life. Stick it in your mouth for me. It must have rustled through his being just like it has in you. Has caused enough mayhem in him that he used those words. For me. He wants you to be naughty, be a little slut that listens to his commands—for him. 

Oh, and you shall do as he asks. 

Yoongi spreads an arm on the back of your chair, fingers sinking into your hair. The attention of both men, the lewdness, your wetness coating your panties, the warmth of the wine in your stomach, the night and the soft rain—you brim with life. You’re so elated that you’re sure you’re luminous. 

You plunge your red-tinged finger into your mouth. Keep it open for both men to see how you swirl your tongue around the digit before you close it. You make exaggerated sucking noises, your instincts and habits telling you to roll your eyes, but you decide against them. You’re in public after all—and you don’t really want to give Jungkook the full experience. Not yet. 

But then Yoongi pulls your hair and unwittingly, in a second, you moan. You shoot him a look, withdrawing your finger. He only chuckles, loosening his hold on your hair, the love in his eyes growing, mingling with joy and excitement. The sight of it calms you like still, deep waters and suddenly, you’re suffused with the desire to kiss him. 

Jungkook steals your attention, however. In typical fashion. 

He squeezes your knee between his thumb and forefinger, making you look at him. He’s propped his elbows on his thighs and the position broadens his shoulders more, the fabric of his black linen shirt taut around his muscles. The breeze quivers his lashes, strengthening the dimness and the lustfulness in his eyes. No glint of light to be found—just an abyss, bottomless eternity, enlivened by the scent of chocolate, the color of his eyes. It doesn’t unnerve you, on the contrary it boundlessly stimulates you. 

“You listen well,” he drawls, skimming his first knuckle down the smoothness of your shin before trailing back up. Gooseflesh—hard, thrilling gooseflesh. Your breath comes out choppy and you’re too transfixed by his feisty, lascivious aura to do something, anything about it. “But can you misbehave?” 

Your jaw falls open. At a loss for words. Brain muddy, cunt dripping. Your vocabulary long gone, your decision to be the one who takes charge of the situation long forgotten, long erased—more like—by someone who’s proved himself to be more dominant than your own boyfriend. Your boyfriend who has made you cry multiple times during sex. 

You let your trembles show. Bare, vulnerable. 

Yoongi strokes your hair, nuzzling his face behind your ear, placing a singular kiss there and it grounds you. Envelops a shield of safety around you. The breeze nourishes it. 

Jungkook slaps the side of your thigh softly. You gasp almost breathlessly, the impact vibrating through your body, the pulse on your clit a full drum. 

“Tomorrow then. At my cabin. Bring your robe,” he mutters, hypnotizing you with his gaze and you submit to it, unreservedly. This time, he drags his palm down your shin and his warmth guides you as you extend your leg for him, propping it between his outstretched legs, on the edge of his chair. He straightens, welcoming your gesture. “No condoms, no panties. Pussy dripping, preferably.” He halts the venture of his hand at your ankle, long fingers stretching to grab a hold of the heel of your stiletto. Flicks his eyes to Yoongi. “You can either make sure she’s wet or,” he pauses, whisking his gaze back to you. “You can touch your pussy for me? How’s that?” 

A carousel of dreams floods your mind and, fighting against the lodge in your throat, you voice out the one you like the most. You don’t want Yoongi to decide for you—you desire the decision to be yours, yours only. “Can I call you then?” 

Jungkook quickly raises his brows, stupefied by your answer. He didn’t expect that from you, and that fact makes you giddy. Night flowers begin to bloom in you, evening primrose and chocolate daisy—his flowers. They spread their petals when he says, “of course you can. Call me from his phone.”

Ever so persistent in the game of the roleplay. You could have exchanged numbers, but no. He wants it to be from the cuck’s phone. 

Yoongi grips your thigh, hard enough to make you wince. Even through your hypnosis, tipsiness and arousal, you sense that something is wrong. You turn your head to look at him and you discover that the love in his eyes, joy and excitement has gone out. Solemness has replaced it and into it, little by little, like the bottle of red Jungkook now tilts to your glass, overflows his wine of wrath. 

The threat you feared the most. 

You drop your leg to the ground and Jungkook lets you. Yoongi slackens his hold and you wonder what it was exactly that Yoongi didn’t like. The fact that Jungkook touched your leg or the plan between the pair of you—you touching yourself for him—that never had his approval? You release a breath, aware that you’ve done something very bad and your hypnosis and your smile declines with it. You even push your glass away, sobering up. The night flowers in you wilt. 

Yoongi relaxes beside you and you slip your fingers between his. 

You must have overdone it and the perception of that causes guilt to pool in your core. You should’ve at least looked at Yoongi to make sure he’s okay with it before jumping head-first. Nerves rise within you and you reach for your pack of cigarettes, hoping to chase your negative feelings away. Both men watch you, but the energy has already shifted. Arousal has evaporated and now, like the mist, seriousness settles in its place. Jungkook gives you a soft smile and you realize that your guilt is written all over your face, but he doesn’t say anything. Not to you; not to Yoongi.

The man before you returns to the good man you know, although his smug pride doesn’t let him become the healer that you know him to be. 

The ride home is silent. 

Jungkook texted Yoongi the address to his cabin as soon as you said your goodbyes. Your boyfriend scowled at the message before he pocketed his phone, taking your hand and walking a little faster to his car, as if to run away from the mess you’ve created. You felt so bad that you let him trail you behind him like a child, chin tilted to your chest, the heft of your guilt pressing down at you like a murky cloud. 

The rain is thickening by the time Yoongi drives down the familiar road to his apartment. He keeps his hands tightly wrapped around the steering wheel and the gear stick, knuckles white like the moonlight that left you and fled back to the dark heavens. He doesn’t reach for the radio or his phone to play some music. Lets the rain sing instead; lets the rain mend the tension between you. You overfill, uncomfortably, with so many beginnings to your sentences, but none of them fit right—none of them really portray what you think you should say to him, so it all falls into the abyss of the night that still lingers within you. 

It’s Yoongi who speaks first when he kills the engine, as if he needed the fifteen minute long car drive to think about what just happened, but it’s not the words that you want to hear. He stares ahead at the line of cars parked before him, at the canopy of trees bending to their roofs. The pitter-patter sounds of the raindrops worsen the guilt eating at your insides, especially when Yoongi remains seated with his hands in his lap.

“You’re not calling him tomorrow.” 

Your deduction was right. He didn’t like the idea of you calling Jungkook while you’d be touching yourself. You get that he has the right to not feel comfortable letting his friend in on a particular sexual practice, but you want to know why. If you’re not getting your own way and he gets to decide everything, you at least want to know the reason. 

“Why?” you ask, calmly. I want to, you don’t add. You fold your hands on your lap similarly to him, mirroring his body language. Feel the bubble of your disappointment sizzling in you. 

“You’re fucking him tomorrow and that’s the end of it,” he mutters, waving a hand through the air sharply to emphasize his words. Doesn’t look at you. Not once. “No collective fucking decision. One time and that’s it.” 

You will your calmness to stay, even when a foam of your own wrath pours into your disappointment. Do your own wishes and desires not matter at all in this situation? Or does the unfolding of it only belong to Yoongi and you have no say in it? Are you to shut your mouth or speak up? 

He was the one who made a comment about your self-pleasure to Jungkook when he was fucking the shit out of you and picked up his phone to call him. I recall her saying your name would be pretty to moan while she played with her pussy. Why did he say it if the thought of you pleasuring yourself on the phone with his friend makes him jealous? Did he really think Jungkook wouldn’t latch onto it, not want it to play out in real life?

The uncertainty, the questions devour your gut, but you go back to the start. 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

Yoongi sighs. Hangs his head and rakes his hands through his hair. “I said—”

You suck in a breath. “That’s not what I asked,” you spit out with a venom that you didn’t mean and Yoongi finally looks at you—catches you closing your eyes at the rush of your emotions and turning your head away from him. “I want to know why.”

Yoongi scoffs. “How come you don’t know, huh?” His voice raises in volume and it paralyzes you with fear—he’s never yelled at you before. The question itself strikes you cold and you don’t like the feeling of it crawling up your legs. “How come I have to fucking remind you?” 

You’re embarrassed that you don’t know what he’s talking about, caught in the middle. You want to get out of this car and walk home, afraid—so terribly afraid of what might come next. Fuck the rain, you don’t care. 

Silence, intertwined with the long breaths that he’s trying to calm himself with, floods the car. You don’t know what to say and Yoongi keeps it at that. You consider the conversation finished. 

Your hand reaches for the handle. 

“Stay in the car.” 

Your back faces him. “I don’t want to be here.” 

“Then get drenched in the fucking rain.”

In disbelief, you turn around to look at him. Yoongi boils with anger, elbow propped on the door, index finger outstretched along his cupid’s bow, staring down the myriads of cars before him, setting them on fire with his gaze. 

“And I will,” you bark, frowning at him, needing to have the last word. “Don’t come running after me.” 

Your hand reaches the handle again and pops it open, your foot swinging over to the wet ground, but Yoongi grabs your leg and hauls you back inside, closing the door shut.

You open your mouth to yell at him. “What is your—”

Yoongi takes your face in his hand, puckers your lips and kisses you harshly. You groan, but you don’t fight it. In fact, you kiss him back, needing him—needing him warm and not cold to you. He stays nose-to-nose once he withdraws, watching as your irises dilate. The sadness that you catch whirling past his eyes punches you in the gut, hard enough that you regret the fight you’ve caused, regret every word you said and every action that can never be erased. You hate yourself for your desires, for your ugly soul and your abhorrence becomes an anchor wrapped around your heart, dragging it down. 

You whimper, but no tears come out. Yoongi pulls you onto his lap and cradles you, folding you into his chest. He rubs you back in circles, sweeps your hair to one side and you cling to his heat, wondering what the fuck just happened. 

You and him never had an argument before, never met each other halfway through the decaying meadow of negative feelings while being two opposite forces. You both were always there for the other person, absorbing their feelings, on their side through and through. Until now, you’ve truly never been two separate people with separate emotions and it’s a reality check. A breath of fresh air—the sudden, brisk disentanglement of an unhealthy attachment. 

Jungkook didn’t just make a ruckus out of your life, but out of your relationship, too. And by that ruckus, he healed it. 

And right then and there, you find the beginning to your sentence that you were searching for. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into the fabric of his polo shirt and your apology stops Yoongi’s motions. You lift your head to look into his eyes. “I should’ve checked in with you—I admit that. It was wrong of me. You’re allowed to not be okay with something and I should respect it, act accordingly, even when I might have a different opinion.” 

And your opinion shouldn’t change to be identical to his. Your thinking is your thinking. You’re your own person. 

The anchor loosens and falls from your heart when that understanding takes form within you. You feel much lighter. 

Yoongi frowns, but it doesn’t perturb you. Not anymore. “I will say this once so listen to me carefully,” he says, curling a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m not letting him see you touch yourself because that belongs to me—that’s what we do. Remember that.” 

So that’s what he meant. Guilt clenches your heart in a deathly grip for not knowing, for not realizing it. 

“If you so much as touch your clit tomorrow when he fucks you, I won’t think twice to carry you away and leave him with blue balls,” he continues, keeping his hand on your cheek.  “You’re still mine, even when I’m letting him have you. You’re mine. You got that?” 

You place your hands on his shoulders and nod. 

“Are you still okay with it, though?” you ask, not expecting him to go along with it after this and you wouldn’t be disappointed, not anymore. The healing that took place is bigger than your desire. The freedom that you feel is better than anything your intimate parts ask for. Your relationship at this very state, at this very moment, has grown past the sexual part. Before it was just lustful love. “We don’t have to do it. Jungkook would understand, wouldn’t he?” 

Yoongi sighs and presses a kiss on your cheek. You feel all of his stress and wrath dispersing into your skin. “I want this for you, honey. You were so excited about it, so into it. I’ve never seen you filled with so much light before.” 

You do the same for him—you press the same kiss, on the same right side of his cheek. “So just tomorrow then?” 

A tight-lipped smile, like the one at the beginning of the night. Yoongi nods. “Just tomorrow.” 

You disobeyed in every way you could. Brought panties and condoms. Left your red little robe at home. Didn’t look once at the lace little number you planned to pack. Decided you wanted to keep that for Yoongi’s eyes only. 

Decided you were going to paint your encounter with Jungkook with different colors, one that differs from the stained ones on your palette that you use with Yoongi. 

He wants you to be bad. Yoongi wants you to be good. 

It’s all your mind is suffused with as Yoongi drives into the woods and the sunlight spilling through the windshield, cutting through the trees, tempers it. No music, no conversation. 

You’re empty. You think the brown barks of the passing trees have more life in them than you do and along with that difference rise questions. Questions of what you’re allowed to do and what you’re not. Questions that you’re wary to ask. 

Not because there’s a lingering tension between you and Yoongi after the fight. As a matter of fact, he made love to you after you both ran for the door. Licked you clean of the rain while breathing in the heady scent of petrichor on your skin. All that had been broken was mended, beautifully. The reason why you’re nervous to ask is that you don’t want to venture back to that place of wrath. Where you are right now is a place of brisk freedom, one that you don’t want to leave, but to have a clear state of mind, you reckon you have to risk it. 

You place your hand on top of Yoongi’s on the gear stick, breaking the silence with your body language. You turn your torso halfway to face him. Meet his angelic early-afternoon-kissed countenance, hidden by his black shades and the long wisps of hair falling to each side of his face. 

Murmuring his name, Yoongi only hums at your call. 

“I have some questions,” you say slowly, carefully making your way to the place you’re timid to go to.

“Ask away, honey.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I know I’m not allowed to touch myself and I won’t, I promise. But is there anything else that’s off limits?” 

Yoongi also swallows sorely, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He takes a moment to think about it and because you’ve already brainstormed what he might not like, you make it easy for him. 

“Is he allowed to kiss me?” you try, fingers grasping your dainty necklace to play with, to distract your nerves. 

“Kissing is a part of sex, but if you’re not comfortable with kissing him, you don’t have to. Please,” Yoongi says your name with a sigh. “Don’t force yourself to do anything that doesn’t feel good. I beg you.” 

A hit of your liquid emotions. A little vein of life springing in your body. You blink the sudden tears away, dipping your fingers into the space between his. You’re so grateful to have such a thoughtful, intelligent man like him. 

“Okay, what about blowjobs?” 

Yoongi sucks in a breath. Ponders it. “Well, that’s an important part of the kink, isn’t it?” He looks at you momentarily before bringing his eyes back to the road. “Watching your girlfriend suck someone else’s dick. That’s the appeal.” 

“Besides watching her get fucked.” 

He chuckles shortly. “That’s what I’m most excited about.” 

A soft smile. “You’re excited about watching me get fucked?” Yoongi nods, but you didn’t get the answer you wanted. You go back. “So you’re not comfortable with me sucking his—”

Yoongi sighs, rubbing his forehead before slapping his hand back down on the steering wheel. “I don’t know yet, honey. We’ll see when we get there.” He squeezes it, the white of his knuckle appears and you take a mental note of that. No blowjobs, or no overindulging in the act, more like. Not knowing is an answer, too. 

“And he’s allowed to eat me out?” 

He doesn’t smile as he says, “he’s skilled with his tongue. You’ll lose your mind. It’s all I could ever want for you.” 

You raise your brows in doubt. “No one is as skilled as you.” At that, his coy smile finally rises and you brush your thumb across the side of his hand. “Will you join in or are you just gonna watch?” 

Yoongi shifts the gear and speeds down the road. “I was planning to watch only, but I guess it depends on the situation. I’m willing to join if I feel like it.” He lifts your hand and kisses the soft skin. “You nervous, honey?” 

You still feel slightly empty, no nerves to be found. You shake your head ‘no’. 

“You’re gonna like it there. It’s a nice cabin.” 

What Yoongi said was an understatement. 

When you witness the greenery enveloping the mountains, you stand gaping with your mouth half open. A warm summer wind billows in and out of the balcony, ushering in such liveliness and joy of life that you feel it slinking into each and every pore of your body, filling you up with all that you’ve been lacking. Giddiness clutches you and lingers, the flimsy curtains quivering against your thigh with each movement to and fro. You willingly become the nature—the sunlight and the slowly diffusing mist wrapped around the grays, blues and greens. The trees curtsy at your presence and a fond smile blossoms on your face. 

Now, at last, you can’t wait to get fucked. You’re glad it’s going to happen at such a lovely place like this. 

Jungkook, dressed in a white oversized T-shirt and a pair of cargos, takes your travel bag from Yoongi’s hand. He looks so soft that it’s hard to believe you’re staring at the same man from yesterday—he changes drastically when he’s aroused, like you takes on the likeness of the dark whenever he hears its call. It’s fascinating to you. 

“Come see the room upstairs.” 

Quietly, you and Yoongi follow him, your feet thudding along the wood of the stairs. And there, there your breath gets snatched altogether. 

A white, heavenly canopy above the king sized bed, white furniture—void of any dust—adorned with nourished plants that sway and rustle in the wind. The summer breathes through the open wide windows and in the corner, next to a dresser, a mirror stands, a mirror with a rocking chair right beside it that causes gooseflesh to prick at your skin. 

If this is where you’re getting fucked, Yoongi will have first row view of it. It’s as if Jungkook planned it all along and that speculation causes a shiver to run down your spine. 

Jungkook sets your bag and Yoongi’s on the mattress. Skims his surroundings in case there’s any untidiness that he hasn’t touched and one glance at Yoongi tells you that he spent the first half of the day cleaning up the place. 

Cute puppy. You and Yoongi share a smile. 

“This is where you’ll be sleeping,” Jungkook says, straightening his spine. 

“We’ll be sleeping?” you joke and the men shoot you a look, which makes you burst out into laughter. The sound blends into the song of the birds and the sway of the trees. You feel a spark of joy perk up in your chest. 

“I’ll fuck you to sleep.” 

Oh. 

He said it so casually that you feel hot all over. You glimpse at Yoongi, though his face utters no words of emotion. Eyes fixed at a point on the hardwood floors, hands in his pockets, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip. Did he not say he was excited to watch you get fucked? Have you made a mistake? 

You rake a hand through your hair, exhausted of your questions and doubt. 

Jungkook leads you back down to the main floor, but Yoongi stays behind. Wants to take a shower before lunch. Nervousness nips at your fingertips at the thought of being alone with his friend, but you nod anyways, having no other choice. 

You watch the swing of his body as he goes down the stairs, little wisps of hair bouncing on the back of his head that you find immensely endearing. They’re like some floppy ears of a puppy to you. Your breasts bounce as well with each skip down and you become aware of how full they are in your low neckline as with each movement your bare, pebbled nipples graze against its fabric, stimulating you, sending a familiar ache down to your intimate parts beneath the ruffles of your skirt. 

You need to be very careful from this moment on upon this dangerous territory. 

“I want to show you something,” Jungkook says, walking towards the balcony. He doesn’t look back at you, he just expects that you’re following him blindly and something about that overwhelms you peculiarly. You want to slap yourself for getting aroused so quickly—you just got here. 

He extends his arms along the railing and you saunter to his side, taking a peek above his shoulder but failing, miserably. All you face is the hard wall of his muscles, even when you lift yourself on your tippy toes and it makes you huff out a frustrated breath against the material of his T-shirt, despite the fact his tall form dampens your cunt—

Is it your ovulation day? Fuck, you make a mental note to check that later. 

Jungkook turns his head to look at you and chuckles. Grabs the back of your neck to push you closer to the railing and you fear your eyes will pop out of their sockets due to the way you widen them. The second body part he touched—one of many. You hope, you pray he keeps his hand there but he withdraws as soon as your fingers wrap around the wood of the railing. You narrow your lips in a tight line. 

He points to what he wanted to show you. You try your hardest to not notice the details of his tattooed hand, to ignore the silver ring around that index finger of his and the ghost of his touch on the nape of your neck. You close your eyes for a heartbeat to regain your composure before they catch the view he’s pointing to. 

A pond. A clear body of water under a thick weeping willow that wets its petals in the freshness of it. Your mouth parts. You sense his gaze on you, but you can’t reciprocate it. Not when such a lovely view like this lulls your soul, permeates it with the pleasure of beauty. 

“Can we get closer?” you ask, mesmerized completely. 

Jungkook grabs your elbow. Another body part. He drags you to another set of stairs. And you realize that the balcony is a veranda of some sort. The feeling of grass under your bare feet is exhilarating and, like a child, you begin to run to the pond, your skirt furling around you, exposing a sliver of your bottom. Jungkook lets you. Walks sluggishly with his hands in his pockets, watching you—smirking at that piece of skin he got to see. 

You crouch to touch the stillness of the water, your fingertips reflected upon it. The coldness, despite the steaming sunlight, is so refreshing and you long to take a dip, to fill your hot body with the briskness it so evidently needs. 

Standing upright, you twist to yap about how beautiful the scenery is—but Jungkook pushes you into the water. 

You were so wrong. So very wrong. 

Your feverish body didn’t need the coolness of the pond to dull your arousal because when you come up for air and your little outfit sticks to you body, your heartbeat picks up its speed, thumping in tandem with your clit. Jungkook wipes his smirking mouth at the sight of you and you’ve convinced that’s your undoing. 

Nipples stiffened through your little top. Skirt shrunken. Skin wet and glossy. You run your palms through your hair, squeezing water out of your strands, feeling sensual, confident and so fucking playful. You smirk right back at him when you wade your way to him. Pull your shoulders back, tits on full show for him, when you lift your leg onto the grass. 

And you stalk him down. You thought he’d move but he stays put. Those hands still in his pockets, those eyes zeroing down on yours—now different, now much smaller. Darker. Willing you to come after him. 

“Prick.” You screw up your face at him, your chest tightening, an inch away from his. 

Jungkook releases a breath. Grins smugly, briefly, swiping his tongue down the side of his inner cheek, as if he liked the fact you called him something like that. His irises drift down to your tits unabashedly and you swear you can see his hands twitching—

“You look pretty like this,” he murmurs, irises back on yours, twinkling, dilated. “Wet.” 

You blush. Ache to be touched. Think about Yoongi and whether he’s finished with his shower because you need to be attended to. Taken to a safe place where the pleasure of his words and energy can unfold, where you can enjoy it. But Jungkook hypnotizes you again—and you don’t know how he does it, how he manages to draw your body close to his without hands. You hate him for it. 

“Prick,” you repeat, more to yourself than him, drops of water trickling down every perimeter of your skin. 

Jungkook cups your chin, raising it to his level. “And what else?” 

You dart out your tongue and wet your mouth— slowly around the arc of your top lip to tease him. Then, you narrow your eyes even more at him. “Asshole.” 

Affectionately, he titters, influenced by your actions so much that you catch flecks of drunkenness in his features. It makes you feel so brilliant that you beam up at him and once his laughter softens, he reciprocates the grin. Like you and Yoongi had, but in a different way. 

The swish of the willow tree. A teetering bird. Jungkook fondles your glowy cheek. 

“Why didn’t you call me?” 

Your breath lodges in your throat but you push against it. Want to speak up. “I couldn’t.” 

He frowns. “But did you want to?”

You nod. The question causes you to blossom, shed the last of thorns left in your body from the attachment. He’s the only person you could say this to and naively you trust that he won’t peep a word to Yoongi. A relief bolts through you that you put yourself first and spoke your truth for the first time in your life. You understand the reason why Yoongi isn’t comfortable with that practice and you promised him you wouldn’t do it. Intending to keep your word, it doesn’t change your opinion, however. Your opinion being that there’s nothing wrong with letting him see this part of your sex life. 

It could be reversed. Jungkook being the one who watches. 

He wraps his fingers back around your chin, hovers his thumb an inch away from your lips, as if he’s fighting himself from touching them. “Tell me with your words.” 

A question that makes the time stand still. Do you listen or misbehave? 

The decision is fast. 

You press up your body against his. Jungkook sucks in a breath at the sensation of your stiffened nubs beneath his pecs, the water of the pond soaking through his T-shirt, marking your tits on him. You interlock your hands behind your back and Jungkook withdraws his hand. Surprises you when he lets it roam down your arm until he finds your clasped wrist. 

He’s waiting for your answer. You know he is. And you want to gratify the puppy. 

“I did want to rub my clit for you,” you breathe out and the hotness of his exhale envelopes you in a heat, even more so when his other hand grips your wrist and nuzzles you even further into the shadow of his body. 

Hard length against your tummy. The roundness of his nose nudging against yours. It’s too much, way too fucking much and you mewl—to which Jungkook immediately responds, approves of the sound, of your neediness and presses you closer to him, your tits squished against him. 

Lips above your ear, he whispers, “would you have called me or would you have let me see?” 

He takes both of your wrists into his fist and his other hand goes to your wet hair, smoothing down the strands. You find the gesture calming, calming enough for you to say, “let you see.” 

You inhale his scent—wood, vanilla and fabric softener. The fragrance of gentleness. 

“Hm, would you have fingered yourself for me?” Jungkook continues, pulling your hair so you look at him. No hint of darkness in his eyes, but tenderness—a healing kind of tenderness that makes you give yourself over to him. 

“Yes. More than once.” 

Jungkook grunts. Turns you around and flips your skirt to see if you’re wearing any panties. Is met with the bareness of your behind as your choice of underwear for the day is a white thong. Optical illusion. 

A quick heartbeat. Dry throat. 

He straightens you and presses you back against him—this time from behind. Lips to ear, the same one. You feel the shape of him on your palms. Thick. Big. You roll your eyes back. “On the count of three, you run and hide. If I find you, you get fifteen spanks for wearing panties when I specifically told you not to.” His breathing turns ragged, in sync with yours, the thought of punishing you turning him on. 

“What happens if you can’t find me?” You squeeze his full balls and you hear that grunt again, vibrating through you. 

“You don’t wanna know. Did you forget I have toys?” 

With that, he pushes you and you gaze back at him with horror—a lustful horror that blazes you. What kind of toys does he have? You want to find out, badly enough that you don’t mind misbehaving. 

Jungkook begins to count. 

You don’t wait until you hear the number three before you run for your life. 

Inside the cabin, near the balcony, you bump into Yoongi’s naked chest. And you don’t have time to react before Yoongi scowls down at you, ridding you of any sounds of shock that desire to pour out of you. 

“Why the fuck are you wet?” he asks, bracing you with both hands, skimming a glance upon the sight of you. 

You panic. “Yoongi, I—”

A creak on the hardwood floors behind you. You round your brows. Will you ever make a decision on your own? Your fate was, again, picked for you. By Yoongi, by Jungkook—who didn’t give you enough time to hide. 

Even a tendril of disappointment doesn’t have time to perforate your being because you sense another hand on the ruffle of your dripping skirt. 

“Tell me why you didn’t take the second to make sure she was bare for me? You don’t check her holes?” 

A deep, indignant murmur. Not expressed towards you, but towards your boyfriend. Yoongi’s scowl deepens, but you smile through your shock—the sun leaking through the clouds—and you sneak a finger along the definition of his abdomen that tenses under your touch. A conveyance that it has begun—that he should play along. You nod your head even, shortly, letting him know it’s okay. 

Yoongi relaxes. Drifts his hands to your palms, holds them. Flicks his eyes to Jungkook above your head. Swallows. “She’s a brat that has a mind of her own,” he says and perhaps he’s right. Now you get to be one, at last. “She didn’t even pack her robe. Did she tell you that?” 

You freeze. Jungkook fists your skirt. 

Lips back to your ear. Heat radiating. You hope Yoongi didn’t see the marks of your breasts on his T-shirt. “Is that right?”

Vigor courses through you. You get to be a brat. And the possibility makes you feel infinitely alive. 

“Yes,” you giggle, and when Yoongi gives you an endearing smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling, you find that safe place you were searching for, that you needed. “I figured I should be naked for the occasion.” 

Jungkook scoffs. “And yet you disobeyed me. Do you even use your brain or are you just that horny?” 

Your lashes quiver at that, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, feeling stupid, although you know the reason behind your defiance. 

Jungkook doesn’t wait for your response. He pushes you towards Yoongi until you collide into his chest. If your panties weren’t drenched from the pond, his manhandling would’ve taken care of that already. “Turn her around and strip her.” 

You panic. Fear that Yoongi will see your tits on his T-shirt. Noticing your emotions, Jungkook understands. Pinches the back of his shirt and flings it on the back of the couch. Broad shoulders, big pecs, deeply defined abdominal muscles and the lines of his V leading into his intimate parts. No happy trail. Jungkook smiles at your relief. Your body flutters. 

Yoongi’s hands grasp the hem of your soaked top and swiftly pull it over your head, making your full breasts bounce from the impact. He can’t help but knead them, face nuzzling into the crook of your forest-scented neck to pepper kisses there, and you catch the protest in Jungkook’s eyes—only to watch it dwindle away with the slow realization that he can’t tell your boyfriend not to touch you. 

It makes you whimper. And the licks of Yoongi’s tongue and harsh kisses merely heighten that sound. 

He continues as his hands find the waistband of your skirt and drag it down your hips until it plops onto the floor. And to fully present you to him at last, he hooks his thumbs under your thong—at which Jungkook shakes his head, disapproving. Walking towards you, he kneels before you and Yoongi blows on the traces of saliva he left on the side of your neck. Shivers, ones that Jungkook smooths down on your thighs to calm you down before he rips your panties in one motion. 

If Yoongi wasn’t holding you, you’d fall to the floor—your legs boneless, jelly. 

Like a leaf out in the forest, your ruined thong plummets to your feet. Jungkook lifts your ankle, helping you step out of it. Throws the scrap on top of his T-shirt, perhaps as a keepsake. 

He doesn’t rise. Gazes upon your cunt, instead. Upon the glistening of your folds and lips, the swollenness of your clit. You part your legs wider for him. In appreciation, he looks up at you and strokes the back of your knee. Pupils dilated, the black swallowing the brown. And when Yoongi presses his length against you, pinches your nipples and you roll your eyes back, your attention stolen, Jungkook rises to his feet. 

Licks his fingers and places them on your clit, starting a speedy series of circles—and you can’t catch your breath. Not when Yoongi rolls your nipples under his digits, not when Jungkook narrows his eyes at you and commands, “apologize.” 

The pleasure overwhelms you so fast and you can’t speak. Can’t for the life of you remember how to apologize and what for, especially not when you grind your ass against Yoongi’s length and he grunts into your ear, not when you’re aware of the quickening of Jungkook’s breath. 

Briefly, Jungkook speeds up his pace before he plunges the same wet digits into your hole. Doesn’t let you adjust, but instead keeps filling you to the brim. Then, with the same rapidness, he fucks you. 

And you can’t stop yourself from coming and drenching his hand. The second fastest orgasm of your life. Your drops of essence are added to the pile of chunks of dry mud, grass and the pond water dripping from your hair on the floor. 

Jungkook withdraws, completely. And you feel cold without his heat, without his closeness. “Why did you come?” 

Yoongi begins to focus on your earlobe and you perceive the smug, proud smirk on his mouth. You don’t know what to say—beyond overwhelmed, beyond fucked out. All you know is that you don’t have enough, that you need more, that you hated how quickly your orgasm came upon you. 

Jungkook takes Yoongi’s hands gently and rearranges them. The right one on your cunt, the left one on your jawline. To your surprise, he lets him. Something about that coaxes a string of your wetness to trickle down your thigh. 

Yoongi’s hold on your chin is rough, causing a litany of soft mewls to spill out of your mouth as you wait for the next move. Needy, horny. And your mewls turn into loud moans that waft out into the forest when Jungkook grips your tits, pushes them together and licks against both of your nipples, your whole body fluttering, trembling, weak and stimulated. Yoongi begins to rub your clit and Jungkook catches you go cross-eyed, stifling his chuckle, but smiling at you regardless. 

Drawing close to you until your bare, wet nipples come into contact with his skin, he glimpses at your mouth once before boring his eyes into yours. “Apologize,” he says lowly. “Apologize for wearing panties.” 

Yoongi squeezes your cheeks, puckering your mouth, despite the fact this is something you only do together. Then, Jungkook tilts his head to the side and kisses you softly, owning you entirely. The puffy tenderness of his mouth, the gentleness which he pressed that kiss with—Yoongi squeezes your cheeks even harder, opening your jaw, giving Jungkook the green light to use his tongue and you’re gone. 

You’re gone when Jungkook swipes his tongue on top of yours. Gone when he toys with it, swirls around it for a moment before closing his lips around yours, kissing you deeply—the smacking sound so loud in your ears, so delicious that you moan, losing your strength to stand and sagging a little bit in Yoongi’s arms. 

“Fuck,” you utter once he lets you breathe and even through the hypnosis, the hot flashes signaling the upcoming of your second orgasm and the blurriness of your vision, you can see how much that kiss affected him. 

Softening glossy eyes, features loosening—smirk wiped clean, unbelief, wooziness and arousal in its place instead. Mouth parted, puffy, shiny with saliva. A beautiful, extraordinary sight. 

“She can’t apologize, but she can swear,” Jungkook comments, but it doesn’t reflect the turmoil happening on the inside of him. And it doesn’t explain what he does next. 

He kisses you again. More gently than before. A slight whirl of tongue around yours before he closes his lips against you all over again. Although this time, he doesn’t stop. He pinches your nipples with his fingers, over and over, while moving his mouth against yours, a slow ripple of the pond behind you if there ever was one. And you feel the heat, the sweat coating your body and you feel Jungkook feeling you come. You don’t have to make a sound. He knows. 

Your orgasm is a deep current moving through you. Like that kiss. You lose yourself in it, eyes rolled back into darkness, fluttering to and fro—from light to dark—and when you resurface, you find Jungkook’s cavernous, enthralled gaze fixed on you, fixed on the forging process of your orgasm taking roots in you. 

Yoongi lets you drop to the floor, breathless. Jungkook shoots him a dirty look, but you reach for the button of his pants, not caring. He stops you with a gentle grasp of your wrist. Bends to your level. 

“You’re not sucking dick. Not mine, not his,” Jungkook snarls, helping you stand to your feet. Hooks an arm under your knees and back and lifts you into his arms—carries you upstairs, without any other words spared. 

He sets you on the bed. Gently cleans your feet with a wet cloth and when he’s done, he takes a seat on the white rocking chair across from you. Palms his length briefly before he manspreads, propping his elbows on his thighs like he did at dinner. Once Yoongi arrives, he pats your head and caresses your hair, an apology for letting you fall. You’re on the verge of tears. 

Jungkook doesn’t even look at him. “Fifteen spanks from him for wearing panties. Fifteen more from me for not apologizing. To me.” 

Yoongi never spanked you. You recognize it’s as much of a punishment for him as it is for you. They haven’t been friends for a day. Jungkook must be very well aware of Yoongi’s disliking of any impact play. He might like to make you cry during sex, but he never uses violence to do so. He uses his words, his dominance and his length. 

Jungkook is teaching him a lesson for letting you drop to the floor. And it coaxes an onrush of foreign emotions to swarm within you. You’re touched. Deeply, deeply touched. 

So much that you don’t take in the fact you’re getting spanked thirty times. 

Yoongi scowls and you’re sick of seeing it. Getting on your knees, you wait for him to sit down. He remains standing. 

Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Sit down, hyung.” 

Power play. He has no business ordering him around and calling him hyung while at it. Has no business to be in control when he’s the bull. Your essence sticks to your thighs. 

“I’m not spanking her,” Yoongi mutters. “Do it yourself.” 

Jungkook leans back, a finger to his temple. Darkness soaks him in heat and he shines, dimly. “You allowed it to happen, so you punish her. For me.” In other words: You dropped her, so you’re getting punished. 

Yoongi has no other choice. You can see the defeat wrung into his face and he doesn’t look at his friend as he sits down. You do. 

And the look you share should mangle your heart, but it doesn’t. You should feel bad that you’re on his side and not on Yoongi’s, but you don’t. 

Purposefully, you angle your pussy so Jungkook has a perfect view of her as you crawl on Yoongi’s lap. One leg on the mattress, the other in the middle of his thighs—

“Lie down,” Jungkook orders and you listen, immediately, plopping down on Yoongi’s lap, making him gasp. 

Yoongi cages you in. Pushes you farther towards his back, but you fight against it. You want to look at Jungkook when you’re getting spanked by your boyfriend for the first time, and so you twist your torso to the side. Just in time to catch a sunray penetrating his aura of darkness, enkindling him softly. 

With his hand wrapped around his still clothed cock, Jungkook nods at Yoongi. You didn’t even realize he was waiting for his signal. Your pussy drools. Jungkook squeezes his girth in response. 

The first spank is tender. And so is the second and the third. Jungkook sighs, rubbing his temple, but he doesn’t say anything. Not yet. 

Fourth and fifth—it gains a small amount of intensity, barely. Sixth and seventh, he rubs both of your cheeks as if it hurt, when in reality it was a caress to you. 

Jungkook slowly blinks at you, telling you to be patient through that gesture. 

Because it’s the tenth one that makes you gasp. The prickling pain coursing through your body, pooling at your core—your core that shows him how much you liked that sharp spank. Jungkook smiles, proven right. 

Yoongi’s breath shakes. His cock twitches against your stomach. 

“Harder,” Jungkook mutters, his own breath quick, eyes never leaving yours. “For the last five. And faster.” 

Yoongi obeys. Your moans grow in volume with each spank, your bottom painted in faint red. Yoongi quickly pulls you up to face him, brushing your hair away from your face. 

“You liked that?” he asks in disbelief, eyes flicking between yours, looking for any hint of discomfort. 

You nod. “I need—” Him, you don’t say. You can’t. 

The rocking chair creaks. Jungkook walks towards you. You twist your body again to meet him halfway and he caresses your cheek, rewarding you. You go to turn your body wholly, but Jungkook stops you, holding you steady by the waist. While you still straddle Yoongi, knees on either side of his thigh, he gently prompts you to lift up your bum against him, arching your back, tits in Yoongi’s face. 

“Stay like this,” he whispers into the waterfall of your hair and as you rub your cheeks against his manhood slowly, he hums, pressing a deep kiss onto your scalp. “Hold onto his shoulders.” 

You do as he says. As if Yoongi knows something you don’t, he latches his hands onto the back of your knees, clamping you down on the mattress. 

The first spank causes you to squeeze your eyes shut, pain so acute striking your body like flashes of lightning. And unlike Yoongi, Jungkook doesn’t stop. He keeps spanking you, each hit harder and more painful than the one before and you lose count of how many you’ve taken. You grip Yoongi’s good shoulder with all your might, wrapping your other hand around his neck. 

You like the pain. You like the pain so much that you stay still. And because of that, Jungkook tilts your chin so you can look at him, coming to your side and propping a knee on the mattress. You see amusement and amazement swimming in his eyes when you finally open yours, dazed. He smiles at you, softly and tenderly. And you pucker your lips at him, asking for a kiss. 

Jungkook willingly obliges. Gives you a deep peck full of meaning that you don’t know the language of yet—and it sinks down your body, makes a bed there. The coldness of his lip ring turns you whiny. Jungkook kisses you over and over again, just to hear your sounds. 

Yoongi is red when you glance down at him. He’s at loss for words and there’s a puzzling look to his face that you don’t want to decipher. 

“Five more,” Jungkook whispers, tracing the outline of your abused, sensitive ass. “Can you handle five more? You’ve taken it so well so far.” 

“Yes, please,” you breathe out and the fact you asked for it makes both of the males still. Jungkook sneaks a hand between your legs and circles your hole, gathering your arousal, teasing you, finding you wetter than before. 

Yoongi begins to suck on your nipples. And when Jungkook finishes his punishment faster than you anticipated or even noticed, your bum burning, you could come like this—but you don’t. Jungkook sticks his tongue down your throat, does what Yoongi does on your nipple and you begin to tremble, making a mess on Yoongi’s thigh. 

As if pitying the abuse, Jungkook kneels before you and peppers gentle, wet kisses on the red flecks of your disobedience, making it right, healing it. Careful with his lip ring, careful not to suck on the skin. 

Then, he places a singular kiss on your clit, making you shiver. Stands to his feet. Walks over to his dresser. “Both of you lean back against the headboard. You against his chest. Keep her legs open, hyung.” 

You hiss at the change of positions, your cheeks hurting, even when Yoongi places a pillow underneath your butt. It worries him, your expression of pain and he tries to alleviate it by kissing you. There’s so much difference to the way he does it that it makes you emotional, drags you deeper into the madness of your hypnosis. 

“You enjoyed that?” Yoongi asks, knuckles brushing against the side of your face, as if he truly can’t believe you enjoyed the inflicting of pain. 

And you’d want it again, if your skin wasn’t so sore. 

“I loved it, Yoongi.” 

Shock flares in his eyes and you look away. 

Jungkook crawls upon the bed with a pink toy in his hand. A small egg with a small gap in the top half. You smile at him, excitement surging in you, and he reciprocates it. Lifts your leg to your shoulder and Yoongi holds it in place. 

“Butt hurts?” Jungkook asks, noticing the pillow, and you nod. “Good.” 

You laugh, softly. 

Placing a hand on your mound, covering it entirely, he brushes his thumb across your cunt, checking your arousal, spreading it on your clit. Doesn’t think there’s enough, which you find ridiculous, and he spits on her, making you moan. Turns the toy on. 

“Spit on her again,” you command, grinding your hips, feeling the trail go down to your hole. 

Jungkook smirks at you. “Filthy girl.” 

Bends to your cunt and spits at her again, tongue darting out to lightly keep the liquid love, where he wants it to be. And you mewl, welcoming his tongue on your clit, and you yearn for more, lifting your pelvis even though it hurts, but Jungkook withdraws. Places the toy on it, thumb clicking on the intensity, rising it, rising it high so much that you widen your eyes—

It sucks on your clit. 

You cry out, pleasure seizing you in its grasp and all you can do is close your eyes and feel it. It paralyzes you, takes your breath and—

“Look at me.” 

You can’t. 

“I know it feels good, but I’m not letting you have it until you look at me.” 

He takes the toy away. You grip his tattooed arm, opening your eyes. 

“Please, Jungkook—”

He doesn’t listen to your plea. Lifts your other leg. Doesn’t give it to Yoongi—keeps his hand there, nice and firm. Begins to concentrate on the back of your thigh, leaving behind wet marks of red and purple, tongue sliding on the skin before he sucks on it, keeping his eyes on you as he does it. You grab a hold of his hair. Soft, so silkily soft, short and healthy. You imagine the tiny petals on the weeping willow outside have the same softness. 

You’re spellbound. Jungkook places the toy back on your clit, pleasure flooding you—now more fervent and extreme, with his puffy lips still sucking your skin in tandem. And hearing your moans, Jungkook fires them back at you, setting your body ablaze. 

“That’s it. Keep looking at me,” he husks and Yoongi squeezes your other thigh, kissing your hair, reminding you he’s here with you. But he’s not the one who moans along with you. It’s Jungkook. Your eyes lid, but you try your hardest to keep them open, your feverish body swaying, the nearness of your orgasm at hand. “Yes, like that. I’m gonna make you come for me.” 

Letting go of your thigh, he sinks the two of his fingers inside your heat, gasping along with you. Stuffing you to the brim like he did before, he doesn’t have to fuck you fast to bring you over the edge. He moves the toy from side to side—and it’s the feeling of fullness, the twist of his features as if he was the one pleasured that makes you come all over his hand, the pillow and the bedding. 

It’s like being submerged under the water of the pond and you keep your eyes open the entire time, the endearment on his face and his attentiveness taking care of you, watching over you as he talks you through your orgasm. 

“Don’t hold back for me, yes, take it, baby. Good, so good, I know,” he says it in such undertones that you sob, emotions rushing out along with your release, trickling out of your tear ducts. You feel so safe and so well taken care of, so content that you don’t shy away from your feelings. You let both males be witnesses to it. 

It’s Jungkook first, who reacts. Brows knitted, he wipes your tears away. And it’s him who decides to take a break. 

“Let’s eat lunch.”

Your focus is enveloped around him so tightly that you don’t even know how your boyfriend reacted to your tears. You don’t feel him when he lets go of your leg and stands up to his feet to dress. It’s Jungkook who cleans you and checks the redness of your ass if there are any bruises. 

Yoongi doesn’t wait for you as he goes down the stairs. 

And it’s you who feels defeated now. And when Jungkook looks at you, he knows. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / READ part one 

[moonstruckme]

Hi! I'd copy-and-pasted this request into my doc to write it, but now I can't find it in my inbox! I don't think it was anonymous, so if this is your request and it somehow got deleted, I'm very sorry! Thank you for requesting, apologies for the wait, and hope you like it <3

hi love!!! Congratulations on 1,000 followers!!! I absolutely adore your writing and if your requests are open I’d love it if you could right something about poly marauders with a reader who’s non-binary or gender fluid. Maybe they just got together and the reader hasn’t came out to them yet or something. Idk you get all the writing freedom, of course if you don’t want to write it’s totally fine!!! Thanks anyway 🫶💗🫶💗 xoxo

cw: marauders unknowingly misrepresent reader's pronouns+gender

poly!marauders x nb!reader ♡ 1.1k words

“Sirius, no.” Remus rubs at his temples. “I will not mar you with a tattoo gun you bought from some bloke on the street.” 

“Oh, don’t be such a wuss,” Sirius complains, sitting spread out on his bed. “It'll be fun, you can all do it!”

“I’m on board,” James says from his own bed. He’s levitating his shoes about the room idly. “Hey Pads, can we draw anything we want?” 

Sirius ponders this for a moment. “If you do a dick, it has to be small, and I’m putting an arrow with your name next to it.” 

James’ smile fades, and he lets the shoes drop. “You’re no fun.” 

“I don’t know,” you say to Remus, looking up at him from your chosen spot on the floor of their dorm. “It’s his body, I say let him cover it in shitty tattoos if that’s what he wants.” 

“Yes!” Sirius hops down from his bed to throw an arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on your cheek. “That’s what I’m talking about, that’s my girl!” 

You’d begun to glow at his over-the-top praise, but you dim at the last bit. Sirius must feel it; he looks over at you quizzically as Remus says for the fifth time, “That’s fine, but I won’t have anything to do with it.” 

“Well, it’ll…” Sirius’ eyebrows furrow as he continues to watch you. You try to bury your discontent where he can’t see it, but once he catches a whiff of melancholy he becomes a dog with a bone. The levity slowly leeches from his voice. “It’ll be more fun if you all do it…Sorry, sweetheart, is everything alright?” 

You don’t want the attention, but you can’t bring yourself to lie. “I didn’t mean to distract you,” you say softly, shoulders hunching forward. “Keep going.” 

“No, that’s alright.” His slender fingers squeeze at your shoulder like he can tell you need the comfort. “It’s not actually important. What’s on your mind?” 

You want to tell him. You want to tell all of them, you have for weeks, but is there ever a right time? When the boys had first asked you out, it felt too abrupt to say anything, like you were making a big deal out of nothing because they didn’t even know you all that well. But now you’ve turned serious faster than you could’ve seen coming, and they feel like they do know you that well. And the longer you go without telling them, the more like you feel like you’re keeping some dirty secret. 

You should have just corrected them the first time they’d gotten your pronouns wrong. Each time feels like someone’s chipping away at your heart with a toothpick, the pain lessened by your surety in their good intentions but still very much there. It’s almost worse, now, to be on the precipice of falling in love with people who you don’t feel really know you, and it’s all your own fault.

This isn’t how you’d imagined the conversation coming about, but it might be the best chance you get for a while. 

“I, uh.” You clear your throat, unsure if you should move out from under Sirius’ arm for this conversation but really not wanting to. “I don’t…listen, it’s not your fault, but I don’t really like it when you call me your girl.” 

Sirius lets his arm drop to look at you properly, hurt flashing across his features. You take his hand, selfish thing that you are. “I mean it, it’s really not your fault.” It’s more plea than promise. “It’s just that I don’t—I don’t really see myself as a girl. I’m sorry.” 

You watch confusion take hold in Sirius’ expression before letting your eyes flit to the other boys. James looks tentatively like he’s beginning to understand, and Remus’ face is carefully controlled. He leans his elbows on his knees, looking down at you. 

“What do you mean by that, honey?” 

You know the endearment is meant to soften the question, but you get all tense around the middle anyway. 

“Just that…” You swallow, and James offers you a small smile of encouragement. “I don’t really see myself as any gender. It’s…it’s called nonbinary, I don’t know if you might’ve heard of it before? I’m really sorry I didn’t say something sooner.” 

“Hey, that’s alright.” James kicks a foot out from his bed, nudging your leg gently. “I’m really glad you told us, angel. Thank you.” 

You try to return his smile, chewing your lip. 

“Merlin, I thought you meant you didn’t want to be our girl,” Sirius sighs, bumping your shoulder with his. “That would have been unacceptable. You can be our something-else, though, if you like.” 

This is going well, you tell yourself. They’re being as kind as you’d always expected. Still, you don’t feel like they fully understand what you’re so clumsily trying to tell them.

“I get it if this changes things for you,” you say, and when you lean away from Sirius’ touch, he doesn’t chase you. “I know this is…you signed on for a girlfriend, not this.” 

The gentle smile drops from James’ face. His eyebrows twitch together uncertainly. “We…what? No, we didn’t…we didn’t ‘sign on’ for anything like that. We signed on for you.” 

“Darling,” Remus says, in that careful, measured voice that you can’t decide if you should be nervous about, “I don’t know a lot about this, so correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t the point that you’re still you? You’re just telling us how you’d like to be treated and understood, right?”

You take a second to run over his words in your head before nodding. 

Everything about Remus has gone soft, from his eyes to the gentle uptilt of his mouth. “Then James is right. Nothing has changed. I mean, we can make any changes to our relationship that make you more comfortable, but nothing about how much we care for you is any different.” 

“And look around you, sweetheart.” Laughter livens Sirius’ tone. “It’s not like any of us are only dating girls.” 

A smile tugs at your lips. “That’s a good point,” you mumble, and he laughs, arm reclaiming its spot around your shoulders. 

“Yeah, I actually do make those sometimes,” he teases. “Listen, gorgeous, I don’t think anyone here has a problem with you being whoever you are. Just tell us what you like to be called, and we will. And if there’s anything we do that you don’t like,” he adds, giving your shoulder a little squeeze, “you can tell us those things too.” 

James nods, emphatic. “Exactly. We want to support you, angel. Thanks for telling us, but just keep talking to us when you can, okay?” 

You have to bite down on your lip to contain the full scope of your smile. “Okay,” you promise him, overflowing with a gratitude that feels a lot like love. “Thanks. You guys are too sweet to me.” 

Remus makes a pfft sound. “Dove, I cannot believe that is your standard for sweetness. You’ve set the bar far too low.” 

[icypenguin]

Hiii! Can I request a sbg Tyler x F!reader where she gets hurt while the group is running away from the phantoms?

until i’m conscious ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

hey guys.. i’m finally back… *revives from death* ermm yeah anyway this has been in my inbox for months and i still have more T-T DUDE IMMA BE HONEST OKAY I FEEL LOWKEY BAD BUT LIKENSUHSNIJSNJISN school has been rlly stiff and stressful :( really sorry for the hiatus lmaooooo that was so sudden but anyway hope u all r satisfied with my apology…

cw: blood, being carried, being unconscious (not in a serious way but erm)

army of phantoms were just seconds away, they were rushing and so were you and the gang. though, you were limping. you had a scratch on your leg from a phantom while grabbing your bags earlier. you tried your best to keep up but no luck, what brought you to now is tyler carrying you bridal-style in fear of you passing out. how exactly did that happen..? well, being the pretty stubborn guy he is, he didn’t care or didn’t think another second to just scoop you in his arms. the other’s couldn’t pay a mind much, they were busy trying to reach for the base.

luckily, you all got in to the base safely and noone was majorly injured except you. the gash on your leg bleeded through the fabric of your bottoms, resulting a soaked, red-hued patch. tyler placed you down carefully on the bus as taylor went to get a pillow for comfort, but tyler insisted on just pulling you into his lap as he is in frantic fear.

“pillow, pillow!” taylor exclaimed to herself as she ran to get one from the back of the bus.

“i got her, don’t worry. just get the med kit!” tyler pulled you into a laying position where your head is right on his lap. it felt uncontrollable, his hands moved themselves to rub your shoulders in comfort. he wasn’t a very comforting person to his friends… but, he always tries his best. after all, he was the one who took care of taylor, wasn’t he?

“move, create space and air” ashlyn ordered everyone as she pulled your bottoms up to expose the wound where the gash could be seen clearly. besides her, logan was getting the kit ready while everyone was scrunching their nose in nausea.

on the other hand, tyler was whispering sweet and somehow comforting words into your ears. it felt unreal, it felt like you were dreaming, the somehow soft voice of tyler managed to lure you down as your breathing got steady.

“there, there..” he whispered softly “i’ve got you..” his hand glided through yours as your fingers interlocked secretly. though, taylor being the attentive person she is, caught the action red-handed and pulled a smirk on her face while nudging her brother softly. though tyler didn’t want to bother or even care since his attention was paid to you and you only.

after a bit of ‘cottons’, ‘water’, ‘alcohol’, your wound was out of sight (or atleast it’s patched by a white cottob fabric..) and everyone let out a relieved sigh.

“phew, that was rough..” aiden closed his eyes and huffed in relief. the tension in the air blew away as everyone got to their position into doing whatever they were supposed to do. except for tyler; he was still making sure you’re okay, now even moving spots so that you could sit comfortably. although, the wound seemed to have a decrease of your consciousness. your back was pressed against his chest and you though that was a pillow! you didn’t even realise he was holding you..

the clock striked, everyone fell asleep in practice of teleporting back to the world.

dawn was visible from the bus window, the sky was orange as the sun carefully wakes up, and so does the gang. everyone woke up in their position from last night, but forgetting for a second what truly happened, you were suprised to be in a hold of tyler’s. your body tensed but suddenly melted in to the wamrth of how he was holding you. you paid attention to that his hold was as close and secure as ever, almost as if scared to lose you.

being tyler’s closest friend didn’t mean you’d see all of his sides, guess this was new. not long later, you felt a move when he rubbed his eyes, informing that he’s awake. to that, you scooted away, trying to create a comfortable space between the two of you.

“mornin’ sleepyhead” you chuckled seeing his still half-asleep form.

though, the second he looked like he was chilling, the next we sat up straight in agitation and realisation. the picture of what happened last night came into his mind, and he couldn’t believe what he had done.

you noticed the sudden change and asked, “what’s wrong? it’s sunday today, we don’t have school”.

“i-“ words tangled in his mind, he didn’t have the urge to create such words. “last night…” he finally mumbled, “are you okay?”

you were a bit confused to hear, but answered nonetheless “yeah, the gash was bad but.. it will heal” your smile almost assured him, but he knew that wasn’t the main thing that’s worrying him.

out of picture, taylor blurted out, “so how was the cuddle last night?” she asked innocently.

your cheeks burned a bit in awkwardness as tyler’s tip of ear went red out of embarrassment. “wha-“ you pretended to forget what happened, but clearly your red cheeks tells the opposite.

“oh come onnn! you guys were so cute! snuggling in eachother’s embrace!” she squealed in awe as the others joined,

“oh- and when tyler carried you!? directly from fairy tales!” aiden busted out,

“not going to lie, you two do make a good couple..” ashlyn said bluntly.

unfortunately, these teases kept on coming one by one and was starting to get a bit ridiculous.. but least to say, you don’t exactly HATE it, do you?

tysm for readinggg! hope u all enjoyed it mwahhh :3 anyway see u in weeks/months ig /hj

[taffybear]

random list of my bay Leo headcanons ❤

working on Raph next! let's see how many ideas i get lol

also opening my inbox for writing (and perhaps even drawing) requests! feel free to drop me an ask <3

literally loves mitski and mac demarco. he likes very indie hopeless romantic type music, it's literally hilarious to catch him just vibing in his feels

SECRETLY HAS PINTEREST BAHAHAHAHA but just for finding poetry and looking at bonsai trees. Mikey found out (like he doesn't have pinterest too??) and they all ended up making fun of him for it to the point where Leo debated deleting the app but ended up forgetting about it.

very specific but he has this unique type of love language where he'll ask you something and without any further questions he will go get or accomplish whatever he hinted at. for example, y'all will just be hanging out, and he'll go, "are you hungry?" and if you just as much nod your head hesitantly he will run to the kitchen and make you a 3 course meal. or, he'll just ask you if you're cold, and if you say yes he brings you a heater and a blanket. he doesn't ask things like, "can i get you a water?" he'll just ask if you're thirsty and go from there.

has the most gorgeous handwriting on the planet. this beautiful cursive print that is lowkey unreadable but so aesthetically pleasing. at first you were shocked but as you got to know him it made lots of sense, literally probably his biggest hobby is just remembering some random thing and then spending weeks straight perfecting it until it's natural for him. he loves to challenge himself to be perfect at literally anything, and his hand writing is one of those instances.

HE'S LITERALLY A VIRGO GUYS HE IS THE DEFINITION OF A VIRGO OH MY GOD

speaks fluent japanese OF COURSE but his brothers don't know it as well as he does (they all know a little at least) and he'll curse them out quietly in japanese behind their backs.

Leo wouldn't say he had a favorite brother of course but he definitely prefers Don's presense over the others. they always go to each other first when they have a problem or just want to rant, and they have a bunch of inside jokes.

after Donnie, Leo's the biggest insomniac. he gets nightmares a lot unfortunately, and most times when he wakes up he physically can't go back to sleep. literally Mikey will get up for a glass of water at 5:37 in the morning and Leo is up doing flips.

very random, but Leo is AWFUL at math. he meant to learn at some point but the time passed and he missed the boat. ofc math is Don's second language and Mikey and Raph couldn't care less (but somehow Mikey always guesses the right answers without doing the correct work??) but Leo is lowkey embarrassed that he struggles with it so much. he can do basic math and most things that come up in daily life like practical equations, but anything past times tables and division he is cannot understand. if you come over and need help on your math homework he will try his HARDEST to help you but ultimately he's completely clueless.

always takes bugs outside. if the creepy crawly is creepy enough or makes you screech, he'll whip it with his katana but normally he'll take the time to scoop it up in his hands (literally no fear) and walk it outside calmly.

literally LOVES doing chores. it's like a form of self care for him. folding laundry, sweeping, mopping, washing the dishes, organizing the dojo, he'll literally put on some music and go to town. when he visits you he will literally just start straightening things up and picking things off of the floor. he hates having nothing to do so he'll just ask for something he can clean while y'all chit chat.

incredibly flexible. he can bend every which way, sit comfortably in a split for hours, can bend over IN HALF and grab the back of his legs--he's literally maxed out on flexibility. but splits training is his private time so unless you sneak you won't catch a glance. but when you do, in between of sliding dojo doors, it is... something. like excuse me sir how tf doesn't that hurt your bAWLLS

smells like lavender. dead serious his signature scent is lavender. it's not like he wears cologne or anything, he just lights a lot of lavender incense and candles to the point where if someone even steps foot in his room they walk out aroma-fied.

everyone in the fandom has their personal opinion of who's the best cook and who's the worst cook of the four, and it is finally time for my hot take of the century. i think Leo is by far the best chef, and Raph is the one who can't even make toast right. a lot of people say Mikey is the chef of the family, which i agree with, he enjoys cooking and baking very much, but this doesn't mean the food he makes is good 💀💀💀 he trusts himself over any recipe and so he just throws in whatever he feels like. Leo can't stand being in the kitchen while Mikey is cooking, his ocd can't stand it. this said, you'd think this would mean the guys prefer Leo's cooking over Mikey's but fact is Leo is such a perfectionist he will spend hours working on a meal it's past 11 by the time he's done. and he doesn't take requests, he only makes what he wants and then on top of that the healthnut version. he makes sushi a lot and goes crazy when you bring him salmon.

IS SUCH A DORK BAHAHAHA if you even so much MENTION a book or a show he likes he will blabber for HOURS about it. he knows every single fact there is to know about star trek it is insane. you amuse him not because you're interested of course but he is just so damn adorable when he's talking about something he enjoys (which he rarely gets the chance to without being made fun of LMAO)

[goldenshrikecomic]

Hello, this is gonna be a long one and I hope I don't bother you too much with it but you have something great going and and I think maybe some advice for someone like me who wants to do a longer comic and I took heart in that one ask you recently answered were you said you are plenty of pages ahead of the readers to not get paralysed by a deadline which seems like a no-brainer now that I read that with my own two eyes black on white but I had not thought to maybe go about it that way and I needed to have someone spell it out for me apparently. So to my question.. see, I have a skeleton of a story I have key scenes that need to happen and that I want to happen and I am sure in between things will shift and change and grow and a part of me can't wait for it to happen but- How do you start. How do you get going. It is in my head I have some written notes but most is in my head and I do not want it to remain there and rot I want to draw and tell the story I had in mind but I feel.. paralysed on the starting line of this journey and I am unsure how to go from there because my mind gets caught up in estimates of if I post one page a week that is "only" 52 pages. That seems so little. How many years would it take. Can I do this. And then my mind fires up in passion because I am willing to commit I want to do this I need to do this and I have a good idea of how to pace myself and how to go about it. I have the beginning of it on the back of my tongue and the tip of my fingers I can imagine it so vividly I wish I could animate it (if that wouldn't take up even more time and be insane I would) But somehow I still feel stumped on how to start. How to get over this first hurdle. It might be the executional dysfunction playing a huge part in it, maybe I am overthinking to much and stand in my way because of it, but like... How did you start your comic. How did your journey on GS begin? I know this was a bit of word vomit I am sorry but you are an inspiration and you seem to go about things (from what I could gleam from the asks) in a way that feels like it could work for me too and the way my brain functions but I do not know how to start? I dunno if it makes sense I am no english native and my thoughts are hard to put into words.

This ask has been sitting in my inbox for a while because it's such a loaded question. I have plenty of asks in this tag about my comicing process, so check them out maybe. This reply got lengthy! The more I wrote the more I noticed I feel very inadequate trying to give people tips on making comics. It's such a trial and error process.

I've seen plenty of advice for people wanting to start out comics to just start small, come up with a smaller story to get a feel of it before you go big. And I absolutely understand it in hindsight because I would've done many things differently if I had just tried it out first, but it's not what I did. I wanted to make a big comic, and a big comic I made, as my first project.

I don't think about the years these things take, but it'd absolutely ease your worries if you could come up with a simple style and be able to make pages faster. I've stripped my comic of shading and gotten more lenient with myself when it comes to backgrounds. You absolutely need to cut some corners if you want to make more than one story during your lifetime. It's a limited time afterall! Being able to turn your sketch into a lineart without having to redo everything with a careful hand would help a lot already. And colors, they take a lot of time.

This is not how I went about it in the beginning, but I'd love to tell you to write those things in your head down before you start. Leave holes, just write in what you know because you will forget some cool details if you keep them in. Write the starting point, middle and the end, even with just couple of words. Add things that interest you in the middle of those points. Do you want a sad arc for your character at some point? Write it in. Come up with what makes it happen. Weave it into the other scenes. If you know what's to come, you can add foreshadowing to the earlier scenes. Even if you didn't know what would come, you can take something from earlier scenes and make it foreshadowing. Writing is a fluid process. You can jump around and add things, you don't have to approach it by putting one block next to the other. Once you have the elements you want, you just have to tie those things together. It's the hard part. And you will change your mind about many things when you get to draw your characters and see them doing the things you've written.

The start! I always say it's the worst part, but I've started to think it might be the second worst. I think the worst part comes after you've started and worked for several ten pages on fumes and you finally run out of juice. Picking up after that is hard, for me at least. But if you can manage, it should get easier. You know your characters better by now, and they carry some of their own weight.

Make a canvas. Think about the scene you want to start your comic with. Night or day? Calm or busy? Just doodle, BIG and loose. Add some frames by just drawing lines, move things around, resize. What do you want to portray with the first page of your comic? I like to establish some of the world or atmosphere, and only then move on to the characters.

Don't try to be perfect, in fact leave that first canvas completely unpolished and move on to the next one. What should this page tell? Will you show the character? I'd leave the establishing shot of them as the last big panel. The rest of the page should build up to it. The last panel is important, it's a hook to turn the page.

Come back to polish those pages more only after you have a few of them done. The most important thing is to get yourself away from that first page, because the first page is scary. After five pages you can move things around and start adding ears to your spheres. You've started a comic now. You can go back to the first page and make it nice, because you already have opened the path to continue.

IT'S HARD. But it's rewarding. It's not for everyone but it's awesome if you can make it yours.

[vickyzangels]

% “..you know who's callin' even though the number is blocked.”

# synopsis ; sfw and nsfw headcanons pt 2 yippee 🎉

# pairing ; tom kaulitz x reader

# word count ; 646

# tags ; nsfw further down “keep reading” (mdni)

a/n ; i’ve had hiccups throughout writing this entire thing and i’ve been miserable

sfw

he has a specific look for you. every picture you’d ever see of him and a fan that he was guaranteed to have flirted with, he never looked at those fans the way he did at you

the way he looks at you like you hung up every star in the sky regardless of the situation, “absolutely enchanted by your beauty,” he’d say when you asked him why you kept catching him staring

y’all look like this religously: 👁️👁️ 👀

he always goes over the top for getting you gifts for events but he never understands what is “too much” and maybe for valentines’ day or something he bought you a fucking mercedes and dior like it was nothing

my gut feeling is telling me that he genuinely loves traveling so much, and for him to be able to travel and sightsee with you is extremely intimate to him

horror movie marathons where he puts on the most gruesome, gut wrenching movies not only cause he likes them but because he gets to be gripped on by you when you get scared

even if that means you nearly dislocate his arm

he’s a lana del rey and norman fucking rockwell girlie (now i’m just projecting my bad)

group conversations with the band, you, and him might be the brightest you’ve ever had cause it’s every single time that you barely even start talking, within minutes it gets difficult to breath cause you’re laughing stupidly hard at tom’s jokes

the type of guy that sits on your bed in your room and just lovingly stares at you as you go on with your life, but the way he looks at you when you’re getting dressed up a little for an event is SOOO🧎🏻‍♀️

domesticity looks so good on him. the few times that tom has woken up before you have (which is very few because he’ll stare at you till you wake up), you’d walk into the kitchen to see him making you a small and simple breakfast just to get your day started

branching off of food, he pays EXTREME attention to everything about you, to the point where he’s memorized an elaborate coffee order and when would be a good time to order it just for you

nsfw

you two fuck like bunnies, the walls vibrate every time you’re both in the building and you both have definitely caused an earthquake

he got jealous when he found your vibrator and swore that he hated it knowing that it got to touch you before he did, but him and the vibrator became great friends when he was using it on you while you two fucked 😇

i’d say usually till you’re both crying but that takes like 5-7 rounds average. every single time.

he has this thing where he’s entirely willing to get off just by grinding on you which comes very handy when you’re on the tour bus (assuming bill didn’t make you get another way of transportation just to make sure you two wouldn’t raw dog on the bus)

do you understand how many quickies you get on a regular basis. in the venue bathroom, their dorm living room while everyone is away doing something, i really meant it when i said like bunnies

he’s so fucking loud?? moaning and groaning into the air and he’s not even inside of you yet

say hypothetically those dick piercings he constantly mentions were, i don’t know… authentic…. he takes great pride in the pleasure it gives not only him but you, especially you

omg he’s DOWN BAD for marking like he loves constantly giving you hickeys or biting you but when you give him hickeys or bites he goes into cardiac arrest

it makes him feel closer to you somehow, probably cause he sees the marks as personal and reinforces your guys’ relationship to him

a/n ; multiple things, 1) thank you so much for 110 followers??? i swear to you i was at 13 5 days ago thank you so much wth 2) working on a request from my inbox next, stay put for that 👍

© ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO VICKYZANGELS. do not steal, repost, plagiarize, or use my work for anything.

[whiskehorange]

Its been a very, very, long time.

I don't even really know where to even begin, thats how long it's been since I've a) posted and b) logged onto my Tumblr. It's been close to a year, even 2 since I've actively posted anything on here before taking that sudden break without any warning. It was much unexpected to me as I'm sure it was for those of you who were actively keeping up with me, but I do want to assure you guys that its nothing too devastating.

I've noticed I've only seemed to gain followers and interactions on all of my posts in the year and some I've been gone, and I not only want to thank you guys immensely, as I usually do, for that but also for such a warmer welcome than I thought I was going to see, and that eases my nerves a bit. I guess to jump right into it, aside from spending this entire post apologizing even though that's what I want to do, I'll start you guys off with a little update: I've moved! I'm in a much more positive and helpful environment than before. It's come with its very high ups and very low downs, but I've been able to accomplish more where I am right now that stuck in the depressive hole and mental health crisis's I was having a year ago.

That being said, I've gotten a stable job as well after a few months of very combative mental health issues and many doctors visits later! It's certainly a start but its decent income for me in the situations I'm in now.

On the sillier/less important side, I am still with my boyfriend, @horrormomshoe (although he hasn't touched his tumblr longer than I had) and as many of you remember my guinea pigs, I am sad to say that my poor Elon has passed away late of last year right before I moved. I do still have Eddie and he's just a silly as ever.

Other than that I can't really think of too much else that has happened besides really small things that honestly just wouldn't be fun for you guys to sit here and read, but the TLDR: I'm happy (debatable HAHA), healthy (also debatable), and in a much better position than I was before. And you know I can't end this off without another apology for such a sudden departure, and it's been stuck in the back of my mind and has harbored a lot of guilt for how I left. Now while I certainly can't guarantee I'll be spending as much time on here as I used to now that I have a full time job, but there will definitely be frequent check ins, posts, and whatnot like before. I've certainly got enough in my inbox to keep my occupied and I've really missed being on here as much as I used to. I really look forward to getting back into this a little bit at a time, I've been dying to get my energy out somehow <3

[starsomens]

Ohhh the size kink anon is on to smth.

Now we need

size kink noah headcanons!!!

THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY INBOX FOR A WHILE SO HERE WE GO!!!!

Whenever you two would be close or his hands were on you He is very aware of how much bigger he is compared to you. And honestly, he loves it.

He gets this feeling that fills up his chest. A dominant in primal feeling. Like you were so small compared to him, easily overpowered in more ways than one.

He love the fact that he was bigger than you he felt like he could protect you, and keep you safe, but he also felt other things 🤠

 he definitely loves to see how small you are compared to him when he’s on top. Or how his entire body basically engulfs you. The way his hands wrapped around your waist so easily you’re basically just a little toy for him. (in a loving way😏)

He also loves how you look on top of him he’d be lying. If he said he didn’t enjoy watching you try to get him all in at one time. Your poor legs trembling and your face was a mix of pleasure and exhaustion from trying to sit down all at one time

“ that’s a baby take it all in you got it,” he said completely focused on how he’s slowly disappears into you. Your pussy sliding on to him they could take glove that fit perfectly

“I can’t Noah…s’too big” you’d whine

“Yes you can doll, you did it before you can do it again” he had almost a sinister smile on him, but it’s because he knew you could really take his entire dick just took some time

He couldn’t exactly blame you seeing as how vastly different you were in size.

Let’s say he is sitting or laying down while you’re riding him he could notice the bulge in your lower stomach whenever he would slide in, and it fueled him

Seen the bulge move up and down underneath your skin, how big he was compared to you and how you were taking everything just looking at it could make him come on command

How his hand wrapped around your neck almost completely while he fucked you into the mattress. 

“Yea Princess you like…ugh getting stuffed huh?” He grunts “little slurs like her pussy getting stuff full”

“Mhm” you couldn’t exactly make out any words while he was pounding into you. He fit you perfectly, but we just a little extra making you feel extra for his tip hitting your cervix with every thrust.

He, especially loved to have you in doggy style, where he felt the most dominant a much bigger than you. He’ll lean over you and pin you down by your shoulders.

“N-Noah! Too…much!”

“Fucking take it!” He pants “you love getting pounded….say it!”

“I-I…Love it Noah!” You’d answer completely dazed, and fucked out of your mind

“ what do you love baby? Tell me.” His large hand coming down to spank the flesh of your ass. Knowing it’ll leave a sizable handprint.

“I love you dick! So big..feel s’good!” You slurred

“ yeah that’s right…you love getting fucked like the slut you are. Goddamn… so fucking good”

If you’re much shorter than him (which of majority of us are😭) he likes to fold you and have until your knees hit your chest. You are just so easy to flip around and bend when you were so much smaller than him.

As much as he likes to watch you try and bounce on him. Sometimes he would take your hips and use you like a sleeve. Moving up and down at the piece he wanted you to go almost like a toy for him. 😏

“Noah slow down!” You really couldn’t take how he was fucking you, but it felt so good

“Nuh uh, princess…shit…” the best part about being able to move you on him was being able to hold you down whenever he came deep inside you and he could just watch as he’s cum leaks out even still being inside you

Speaking of lifting you pretty easily, he can just lift onto any counter in the house and fuck you right there. You couldn’t really go anywhere with his weight on you. It was somehow comforting, and so arousing at the same time.

This man is very tall and very big in more ways than one, and he uses it to his every advantage😉

「✨Taglist✨」 @lilhobgobbler @cncohshit @vir-tual @tdopomymind @concretenoah @misspygmypie @your-girl-c @fvckmeorchokeme @lust-for-sacher @thescarlettvvitch @cind6547

[rkvriki]

— taste of your lips

hello everyone ! this is a little different from what i usually do. don't really know how to feel about it tbh i've never wrote a drabble like this one 😭

make sure to leave feedback. my asks are open and so is my inbox so let's talk !

WARNINGS ! contains suggestive themes, painfully cliché, i very new to writing things that aren't headcanons so this might be bad, might contain grammar errors.

a/n: this was not what i was planning to post but i wanted to give this a try and i kinda hate it ???? this is so new to me, i've never wrote something like this before I'm so nervous 😭

word count: 0.5k i'm sorry this is so short 😭

it was a chill day and jake was hanging out at your apartment. you were taking a shower while jake was on your couch scrolling through his phone with a lollipop in his mouth. jake loved candies and he had a special preference for lollipops, they just reminded him of his childhood and made him happy. he was really enjoying the cherry flavor that was slowly melting in his taste buds leaving an overly sweet taste in his mouth.

he didn’t hear you coming in the living room until he felt the couch dip and you sat down next to him. jake didn’t look at you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders making you cuddle his side.

“you smell good, you got a new shampoo?” he said, finally turning to you and taking a whiff from your hair.

“yeah i got it this week. smells nice doesn’t it?” you said smiling and kissing his cheek, the smell of cherries invading your senses since you were so close to his mouth. an idea popped in your head but you ignored it for a while and started making conversation with him, talking about how your day went and the latest gossip at work.

while jake was talking, you could see the lollipop moving around his mouth, making it hard to ignore the thought that came to your mind earlier.

jake took the lollipop from his mouth absentmindedly as he talked, and before he could put it back in his mouth you grabbed it and took it in your own mouth, taking him by surprise.

you closed your lips around it as you started sucking on it, slightly smiling at his reaction.

jake found himself out of words, feeling his heart racing as he watched you sucking on the candy that was previously in his mouth, but still found himself unable to look away from you.

You finished the lollipop and got up to put the stick away, jake’s eyes following your every move. A sly smile was adorning your face as you sat back on the couch next to him.

“that was good, cherry right?” you asked him innocently.

“yeah” jake said still in a daze “it was cherry, yes.”

you laughed and kissed his cheek, feeling him relax at the sound of your laugh, the affect you had on him surprised him every time.

“care to share another one?” you asked tilting you head while looking at him. jake laughed looking away as he felt his cheeks warming up.

“one day you’ll drive me crazy, i swear to god.” he told you while reaching for another lollipop in the jar that sat in the table in the middle of the room.

—--

somehow sharing lollipops with jake became a routine during you hang outs.

jake and you had went to the park to go for a walk with layla and as you were sitting down, jake pulled a warped lollipop from his pocket. you were a little taken back by this action but still smiled at him, a little confused.

“let’s share?”

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Yay fellow aroace!

I love cute moments too! Yours are so adorable as well!

So uhm… maybe a little sis annabeth being protected / being taken care of by her older cool sis?

I loved the punk Jason concept as well so maybe something similar? Thank you so much if you do this!

And yeah! Byeee

🖤🩶🤍💚

Thanks so much for this ask even though it's been sitting in my inbox for centuries lol I have so many asks and little motivation but this one was so close to done, that's why the endings a little rushed &lt;3

Bite me, bitch boy--- Annabeth Chase/Protective older sister!reader

»»————-　★　————-««

-Annabeth got to camp when she was seven. She became the cabin counselor at nine. 

-Who in their right mind let a literal baby be in charge of eight bossy, snarky, far too intelligent and prideful demigods? Who said, ‘you know what this cabin needs? A child to run it!’

-It was safe to say that when you got to camp at fifteen years old and soon after got shoved into a wooden cabin full of unorganized folders and sheets of paper and books, with three toothbrushes [eight kids???] and a mini fridge with literally nothing in it, you had something to say.

-Specifically to Chiron, who reassured you that you could of course speak with the cabin counselor about how the children of Athena were living, once she got back from her quest.

-Oh, so maybe there was a proper leader here, they were just away. That made sense, they’d be smart, and obviously knew what they were doing. That shut you up for a few days, and put up with the fact there were no lights out and your little brother hadn’t showered in two weeks. 

-Then a scrawny, angry at the world, little girl came back with swinging braids and far too sharp a knife for a twelve year old, carting behind her a traumatized school boy and a very hungry goat.  

-Your expectations took a dip.

-After your new little sister was tucked into bed and you finally figured out how to threaten your siblings into shutting their books and going to sleep [Spiders, spiders were the key.], you marched straight back to Chiron and demanded a union.

-You didn’t get one. 

-So instead you did some spring cleaning. While your siblings were out showing off their wits and picking strawberries, you stacked up every piece of paper in the cabin and threw out all the random things from three years ago, organizing everything away neatly into the bookshelves and filing cabinets no one had thought to use yet. A deep clean began, and you probably held up the laundry near the infirmary for a good four hours. 

-You found an old cork board in the stables that Butch [he was nice, even if he only talked about Pegasi and a comic called Heartstopper] let you take, and pinned up everyone schedules on it, instead of where they had been washi taped to the bathroom mirror. One of your brother's school reports appeared in the mini fridge as well, so that got pinned up too. 

-Said mini fridge was filled with water and strawberries that Malcom brought back, along with mud that got tracked through the fluffy rug you’d exchanged with Silena for the third volume of Butch’s comic. 

-Annabeth glared at you with those stormy eyes that everyone in the cabin shared. 

-Apparently, as the head counselor of the Athena cabin, she was supposed to be the one doing all the things you’d done, and she did not appreciate your disrespect for the rules or her position.

-Once she found the wafer biscuits in the minifridge you’d grabbed from the camp store after Katie got one of the old ipods you’d brought with you to camp after finding out about the wifi rule, she calmed down a little.

»»————-　★　————-««

-Annabeth was fuming.

-How dare you just… come into her cabin and take over?

-How come all her other siblings didn’t seem to mind that you had this one really cool tattoo on your thigh and seemed to be allowed to just wander into the camp store and take stuff, because apparently Katie owed you something and the Athena cabin got free wafers?

-And somehow Clarrise decided not to dunk your head in the toilet on your first day [Percy was unhappy about that as well, but seaweed belonged in water anyway. He didn’t like that comment either.] because something about Silena and hearts stopping? 

-Annabeth was supposed to be in charge, and now you were going to the camp counselor meeting instead and forcing Annabeth to lay in bed all day with a box of tissues because a temperature of forty degrees wasn’t normal. You even brought back a bag of those cheetos that the Stolls always dug up for meetings for her. 

-It sucked.

-So she decided to let some of her anger out in the form of beheading each and every dummy propped up in the arena. 

-Stuffing was scattered around on the sandy floor and Annabeth could feel beads of sweat on her dark skin. Her knife was flecked with the blood that beaded on her palm after clenching her knife too tightly for too long.

-A few Iris kids were casting rainbow mists that faded into droplets of poison on the other side of the arena, and she was careful to avoid them as she whipped around and got one of the dummies in the back of the neck, which would kill any normal person not sewn together by a bored teenager.

-Of course the sawdust billowing up wasn’t helping her stuffy nose or unfocused eyes because actually that dummy’s torso looked like a great pillow but then she was tearing out its insides because she wasn’t sick. 

-She refused to let you be all cool and right and big sister-y because Annabeth was in charge, she didn’t need a big sister to make her hot chocolate before bed when she had to finish a model for Hecate's new potion shop on Olympus and take spiders out of the bathroom because somehow you didn’t find then as absolutely terrifying as the rest of them did.

-The braid that hit her cheek felt like a spider leg in that moment and Annabeth fell back with a yelp, pulling all her hair behind her shoulders and breathing hard, her glinting knife near her feet.

-It was shiny and metallic and there were spider legs and then she was running, sprinting and puffing and following that arachnid-like robot from Hephaestus through the Labyrinth before they all lost it and got stuck walking in circles and circles and circles with spider legs crawling over her skin that were in her lungs-

-Shit. 

-Deep breaths, that was all she needed to do. Annabeth pushed a fist to her chest and rolled her shoulders back, trying to blink away the image of the metallic spider crawling over her shoe.

-There was a cackle of laughter and she righted herself. She wasn’t sick. She wasn’t scared. And she was not going to be laughed at. 

-She turned but her braids were still touching her and they were crawling over her and she couldn’t breathe because the spiders were on her but she wasn’t scared and she would not be laughed at and her knife fell out of her hand and-

-”If you don’t leave right now, I’m rostering you all on for clean up duty in the kitchens tonight, and I’m telling Butch it was you guys who let Olive and Clover out onto the lava wall!” 

-”He won’t believe you, and you can’t boss us around, newbie!” Someone yelled, and Annabeth pulled all of her hair back, a gray streak in the corner of her was tucked behind her ear. She felt like throwing up when the heat washed over her skin, prickly as a cactus. 

-”Bite me, bitch boy!” You snapped, and there was a clanging of metal and then a yelp.

-Silence filled the arena as Iris kids shuffled out, but Annabeth lost track of them a moment later because there was four of them and then eight and then twelve and then it hurt her head too much to count and suddenly there was two of you marching up,a shiny spear speckled with poison rainbow droplets. 

-You dropped the spear and Annabeth couldn’t see much else because everything was grainy and full of static and the heat on her dark skin was crawling with spiders and itchiness.

-Annabeth stepped forwards, the ground coming a lot closer to her face than she planned. 

-She gulped down a cry of pain and squinted up at you, then tried to tell you to fuck off, because she wasn’t sick. It only came out as a pathetic mumble, and she lay limp, glaring up at you foggily.

-You smiled, and Annabeth tried to take it patronizingly so she could continue hating you. But it wasn’t patronizing, even when you spoke softly, “Come on, let’s get you back in bed.”

-Annabeth huffed as she was carried out, “Mnuhsick.”

-“Percy and that funny goat boy are waiting.” Your smile was patronizing then. “They brought Hidden Figures and Legally Blonde.” 

-“Msick.”

-“That’s what I thought.” 

»»————-　★　————-««

[sibylsleaves]

I would love to hear about the Tommy + 7.04 thoughts if u ever want to ❤️❤️❤️

hiiiiiii sorry it did take me a while to get to this because. well to be honest i have a threshold for how much tommynalysis i am capable of doing in a given week.

But, since we are relitigating 7x04 today in my inbox anyway. And I do want to preface this by saying like. this is obviously me reading into things and being uncharitable toward Tommy as like. a thought exercise.

If we are taking my original tommynalysis at face value, which basically posits that Tommy is, at all times, driven to present himself as a Nice Guy and contort his own negative feelings to fit that narrative which leads to him basically coming off as just kinda condescending all the time. then I do think the loft scene in 7x04 fits this reading.

Because well, if I'm being perfectly honest, what was Tommy even doing there?? There's no indication that Tommy is in any way aware of what's going on with Buck or knows why he knocked Eddie down at the pick-up game or that it had anything to do with him. Which can only mean that like. when he was taking Eddie to the urgent care Eddie was explaining all of this to him from his perspective as a Buck Understander. and Eddie, by tommy's account, feels bad about it all. he is sitting there ranting to Tommy that like he hurt Buck's feelings and made him feel excluded and that he's his best friend and no one could ever replace him and all this stuff that would probably mean a lot to Buck coming from Eddie himself.

Yet Tommy, for some reason takes it upon himself to go to Buck's and like. tell him all this stuff that's, let's be honest, not really his place to say? Like the whole, "oh you know I could never replace you....Christopher would be so mad for one!" It does come across as condescending to me because Tommy has known Eddie and Buck all of two weeks. He does not know their relationship, he definitely does not know Buck's relationship with Christopher, but somehow he's standing in Buck's kitchen reassuring him like, don't worry kitten....you're still important to them!

and like. IT DOES WORK. Because Buck is kind of easy that way. And it's not that it's not true. It's just why did Tommy think Buck needed to hear this FROM HIM. and not Eddie himself. it's just all very weirdly presumptuous. Like I do think you can look at this scene and read it as Tommy wanting to put himself in the position of peacekeeper, the nice guy who is not trying to ruffle any feathers. which he does by inserting himself into a conflict between Buck and Eddie that, from his perspective, he may have inadvertently contributed to but isn't really about him whatsoever. instead of recognizing that maybe eddie and buck have their own relationship that he does not have total insight into because. again. i have to stress. he just met them like two weeks ago.

And if I'm putting myself in Buck's place here for a minute, if my bestie suddenly got a brand new pal she was ditching me to hang out with and then New Pal came over to tell me 🙂🙂don't worry, 🙂🙂you'll always be important to your Bestie....id be sitting there like girl who the fuck do you think you are.

Obviously, I am not Buck and he is not me. but just like. trying to look at this situation objectively, what is Tommy trying to accomplish here.

I know some people hc that Eddie purposely sent Tommy over to talk to Buck but I really do not buy that at all. I do not think Eddie "lives to provide emotional reassurance to Buck" Diaz was like yeah Tommy, you go ahead and handle this, i owe you one.

[batsplat]

uuuu im obsessed with vale/jorge dynamic recently. Jorge used to obv hate vale during their years together but now its his biggesr fan and vale is very clearly fond of him nowadays (inviting him to la 100km dei campioni etc.)

They went from being each other biggest haters to a kinda friendship? Or at least respect and giggles lol

Also jorge/vale rivalry was one of my fav back then in 2008/9

so this has been one of the numerous jorge/valentino asks sitting unloved in my inbox because I burnt myself out on that rivalry after writing the 2008-10 long post, BUT I realised I had a take on this exact aspect... here goes. jorge in many ways is the valentino rival who has processed the whole experience™ the best. like he made it, he survived and kinda even thrived. and I have some thoughts on this

main take: jorge/vale rivalry at its height was definitely pretty nasty, but when it comes down to it jorge is the guy valentino feuded with who is most likely to fondly reminisce about the whole experience. this is obviously because he's insane and matched valentino's freak in the yamaha garage from day one... it's just pretty funny how intensely up for it he was going into the rivalry and how totally willing he was to move on afterwards. his happy memories of all the times valentino tried to murder him. picture frames for all the assassination attempts. for all the undeniable headloss jorge went through while fighting valentino, he actually emerged from the whole thing with pretty minimal psychological scarring. inspiring

secondary take: jorge and casey both still semi-regularly talk shit about valentino but it's a COMPLETELY different vibe. like jorge's kinda just talking himself up, wanting to make himself look good in that rivalry - BUT he's also going 'yeah we were the best... wish the guys today were still like us'. the most pro-alien alien!! whereas casey brings way more of a 'That Day Taught Me About Man's Capacity For Evil' vibe to the table. and a big reason for this. imo. is how jorge already went into that rivalry with so much psychological baggage BUT his issues are pretty disconnected from valentino for the most part. jorge desperately needed a positive father figure, not a less aggressive rival. so valentino did torment jorge plenty but also it's not actually adding any long-term psychological scars... jorge had to eventually make his peace with the fact that he wasn't going to be the next valentino rossi but he DID and in a way that was a good thing... jorge spent so much time trying to construct this persona for himself that would both be the ideal racer and get everyone to love him, and he needed to let go of that! he grew up a bit and he became his own person and he stopped trying to invent a perfect character for himself and he became somewhat less insecure in the process. and there's way less resentment towards valentino there, because valentino isn't contributing all that much to what remaining angst and even grief jorge is still going through related to the sport. if anything, with the benefit of hindsight, jorge kinda got a lot of the things he wanted out of the valentino rivalry! including, let's face it, the drama of it all... by contrast, valentino's entire deal just happened to map on at about 98% level of accuracy to casey's preexisting psychological baggage, it's actually pretty impressive. basically almost every single thing that caused casey angst throughout his career, including the stuff that goes back to his childhood racing experiences in australia, can somehow be related to the valentino rivalry - and casey is very happy to make those connections himself. so for casey his rivalry with valentino actively made everything so so much worse and is still massively interwoven with ALL of his angst related to the sport. because valentino is basically the most horrible casey foil anyone could possibly have invented. that's his shadow... kinda fucked up how they invented a guy to torture casey specifically

in conclusion: it's very funny how quickly jorge and valentino got over it after both of their yamaha stints, ESPECIALLY the second one. jorge can make motegi 2010 instagram jokes now. "this is only for p3 and we're team mates but fuck it: this is all about honour!" right........ yeah you really were the perfect valentino teammate, truly a match made in hell heaven. came in prepared for drama, got the drama, now fondly remembers the drama. knew what he was getting himself into and lived the feud experience to the max. made it out alive with minimal long-term psychological damage. an icon a hero a role model for us all