#i would also convince myself i was in time out corners because i wanted to be

[silverselfshippingchaos]

ugghhh wintertime sucks!! I'm sad and tired and sad all the time.. I need a nap.. and f/o cuddles.. and another nap..

[k0kichiimagines]

according to my mum as a baby when i would be crying and throwing a tantrum i would pause, look in the mirror / oven door / reflective surface in general and admire and observe my reflection and then turn back and continue crying and if that did not give my mother a clear insight into what my personality would be idk what did

[mywritersmind]

THE MOST GORGEOUS - LN4

summary : Lando is convinced he’s found the love of his life during media day, embarrasses himself, and can’t stop flirting!!

listen up : flirty lando! pretend it rained in zandvoort🫨

word count : 616

“Carlos!” I hear the voice before I see him, and he definitely doesn’t see me because as he slides into the room he looks directly at his friend, “Carlos! Did you see that reporter!? Fucking hell, She’s the most gorgeous woman i’ve ever seen! And I saw her completely rage at-”

He spots me then.

I’m sitting in a corner, watching him talk about me. I have to say, My ego is extraordinarily boosted. His hands slap down to the side of his body, his eyes going wide.

I can’t help but laugh, “Hi.” I say, glancing at Carlos who’s already cracking up.

Lando puts his hand on the bridge of his bandaged nose, clearing his throat, he hesitantly looks back up at me, “Hello.”

“You know, I prayed for something comical to happen today! Thank you so much, mate!” Carlos slaps his friend on the back before making his way out, shaking his head at me, “See you!”

“Um…” Lando swallows, “Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t talking about you?” I’m normally not so self centered but I really believe he is talking about me.

“I saw you get escorted into the ‘no press’ area…” He nods, his lips in a thin line, “I was also the only woman in the media pen.”

“Right! Of course.” He leans his arm against a chair, using the other one to motion at me, “Well… Nice job yelling at Vowles.”

I smile and stand, pulling my skirt down a bit, “He deserved it.” I shrug and grab my purse and paddock pads.

“No doubt.” He watches me walk past, “Wait!” I turn and tilt my head, “Would you want to- get coffee?” he looks nervous.

“No… sorry.”

At this, he looks shocked at my blatant refusal, “Uh… That’s alright. Hey! I never got your name.”

I nod, “True.” I walk out and I hear him call after me.

“I’m Lando! By the way!”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Great race today, Lando.” I say into the microphone as the man stands in front of me. He’s sweaty and holding onto his water for dear life.

I’ve never seen his eyes so blue. Not that I’ve seen much of him in person… I’m new to the interviewer game, made my way up slowly, “Easy to do well when I know you’re watching.”

He just won Max’s home race and apparently winner Lando is a very flirty being. I raise a brow, “How will you be celebrating tonight? Big party?”

He runs his hand over his mouth, “Nah… looking to hang out with someone special.” Is he… asking me out? Now!?

I clear my throat, trying to stay professional, “Sounds Lovely.”

“Hopefully it will be! If she says yes.” He’s looking directly into my eyes, my cheeks feeling hot.

“Mmm who would say no to Lando Norris?”

He licks his lips, “I know one person.” I shake myself out of it, remembering the camera facing him and the mic in my hand.

“So! I’m assuming you're pleased with tyre management today? Pretty wet track, Is that harder or more fun?”

His mouth pulls into a slow smirk and I know i’m doomed, “Prefer it wet after a few boring races.” He shrugs and I roll my eyes because I know what he’ll say next, “Quite slick today but nothing i’m not used to.”

His media manager taps his shoulder, letting us know time is up, “Have a good day celebrating, Norris.”

“Appreciate it, Y/n.” He winks and turns around. I sigh and turn the other way, praying my cheeks will cool down.

He knows my name.

[cheqorb]

Sotto Voce.

Gaslighting everyone into believing you’re a really shit footballer because seeing people be impressed by your sheer lack of skill is more fun than being a genius.

FEAT. Bastard München ensemble

NOTES. uhhaua cross posted on ao3 (same user) but ajyway, thought this idea was funny and because of this lingering feeling of sadness i haha managed to Complete this?? Gosh im beside myself with worry!!

WORD COUNT. 2.2k

Isagi thinks he might be seeing things. Maybe all the relentless training in Blue Lock has finally caught up to him, leading him into a football-induced delirium, because he can’t quite comprehend what he’s looking at right now.

You’re moving across the field with a fluidity he’s only seen in pro-level players, doing tricks and turns he’s pretty sure aren’t even in his playbook. You glide past the defence, controlling the ball with a finesse that’s nearly supernatural — hell, he thinks even someone of Rin’s calibre would be breaking a sweat to try and keep up.

And you look bored while doing it. Eyes half-lidded, posture almost lazy, as if this is just another walk in the park and not you showing off world-class football technique.

Isagi’s mind races to make sense of this. You’d always been, well, normal to him.

Sometimes you’d play in a match, most other times you’d sit out on the sidelines. And he’s usually pretty sharp about these things, so it must’ve been because you just… didn’t stand out.

Yet here you are, pulling off flawless plays with little more than a mild yawn, as if winning against the top players here would barely register on your radar. Maybe it’s just luck, some freakish one-off, right?

… Nope. You just drilled another perfect goal into the top corner of the net.

He snaps out of his thoughts only when you suddenly stop mid-play, and his eyes meet yours. For a second, there’s a flicker of panic in your gaze and he opens his mouth, not even sure what he’s about to say.

“Y/N-”

You’re stomping towards him before he can even process the whole thing, your pace quicker and more full of menace than he’s used to seeing on you. You stop just short of him, tilt your head slightly, and in the calmest voice, say, “You saw nothing.”

He tries to stammer out something, but you leave soon afterwards.

────

Tripping over the ball is harder than it looks, but after enough practice, you’ve perfected the art of falling in a normal fashion. To most people, it’s convincing. Prior to a few days ago, you’d say all people but there’s a certain someone who entertains himself by boring holes into the back of your skull with an intense, unblinking stare.

You can feel it. Isagi waiting for you to slip up.

Actually slip up, instead of the falls you’ve gotten so good at imitating. It’s detestable, honestly. You’re trying to keep things as they’ve always been, and he just wants to come in and mess with the status quo!

Luckily for you, Igaguri’s too much of an idiot to harbour the same suspicions. Right now he’s too busy practically doubling over with laughter on the floor. The guy is probably thrilled to finally see someone playing the fool even more than he does. And as much as he’s a pain, he’s also the kind of person who makes perfect cover — play the role of an idiot, laugh it off with him, and everyone’s none the wiser.

So, in spite of your (what most would call) vindictive description of him, you do believe that some sort of strange pleasure is to be gained from surrounding yourself with people like him. Though perhaps that also makes you a terrible person.

The feeling is nothing like the rationale that Noa preaches about so often. It’s an undeniable truth in your heart.

Which is why you avoid the people who actually know what they’re doing on the field like the plague.

Yukimiya, on the other hand, is way too polite to laugh outright. He at least has the common sense to stifle it, reaching out a hand to help you off the ground with a quiet charm that makes people swoon. No wonder he’s a model.

Now, the imaginary audience in your mind might be wondering why you’re talking with a guy like him? Your answer: he’s not as notable ever since he patched things up with Isagi. He’s now the kind of person you can talk to without raising any brows. Again, it sounds harsh but you see it in a positive light. He’s becoming just the kind of person you adore most!

“Try and keep a close eye for stuff on the ground, alright?”

You flash him a grin, nodding. “You know me, just a total klutz all the time,” you reply as your usual happy-go-lucky self, making sure to project just loud enough for Isagi to hear.

And out of the corner of your eye, you catch that familiar look of suspicion deepening.

────

The silence that follows is brutal. Hiori and Kurona exchange a look that’s way too long for Isagi’s comfort. After finishing whatever telepathic debate they have with each other, they both stare back at him like he’s just pitched the most psychotic theory imaginable (which isn’t entirely untrue).

“You don’t believe me, do you?” he mutters, deflating a bit.

Hiori’s quick to reply, but Isagi is aware of the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes. “It’s not that we don’t believe you. But, ya have to admit, it’s strange to hear Y/N… of all people, doing something like that.”

That’s code for what the fuck are you talking about, Isagi concludes with a grimace, his eyes shifting to Kurona hopefully.

“Crazy. Crazy.”

Kurona’s tone is deadpan, his gaze distant as if he’s trying not to laugh. Great.

Isagi sighs heavily, scrubbing a hand over his face. Maybe he is the one who’s going crazy here. It shouldn’t even bother him this much. It’s not like you’re particularly close! If anything, he can barely remember a conversation between the two of you that went beyond asking if you’d seen so and so.

And, judging by the responses he’s getting from both of his teammates, neither of them can figure out why he’s fixated on this either.

────

Noa is going on and on about practice drills, how to follow his instructions precisely, something about rationality and technique, blah, blah, blah. You stifle a yawn. If this is what being in one of the top clubs means, you should’ve begged Ego to be in Barcha instead. At least Lavinho would’ve been fun.

You hear his coaching style isn’t by any means phenomenal if you’re trying to improve your skills, but good thing you’re not planning on doing anything of the sort!

And just when you think you might actually pass out from boredom, you see Isagi walking over. Again. He’s approaching with that same cautious look, but it’s not enough to make him think twice about bothering you apparently. That’s also something that bugs you, he’s never a quitter.

You flash him an oblivious smile. “Oh, Isagi! Whatcha up to? Need anything from little ol’ me?”

You lay it on thick, voice dripping with cheerful innocence. His jaw tightens, and for a second, you swear you can see a flicker of annoyance on his face. That’s new. Your words have the opposite effect than what you had originally intended.

“Listen, I know what I saw, alright? You’re not fooling anyone.”

He launches into a whole spiel about how he’s seen you pull off moves that only high-level players can pull off, how he doesn’t care if it’s part of some large game you’re playing, how you should be using your skill to distinguish yourself.

…You really don’t give a shit, and in regards to his comments, you personally disagree! What’s the fun in doing all of that?

You tilt your head, pretending to think it over with wide, guileless eyes. Sure, you’re a little flattered he’s this invested in uncovering your “secret,” but the other 99% of you is totally unhappy.

When he finally wraps up his little speech, you just give him a half-hearted shrug with a smugness that he doesn’t miss.

“And who’s going to believe you?”

────

Kaiser likes to think of Isagi as predictable, average — someone who might fancy himself a hero but is ultimately just another small-time player waiting to be crushed. It’s almost laughable how seriously he takes himself. In fact, the only thing remotely worth mentioning about him recently is this bizarre fixation he seems to have developed on you.

He’s overheard your exchanges, and in short, they’re pathetic.

Isagi rambles on about how you’re hiding something, clinging to that delusion like it’s going to benefit him somehow. The psychology-lover inside him finds it almost fascinating in how utterly absurd it sounds.

So, when Kaiser spots you chatting with the ever despairing Grim (laughing so hard you have to hold back tears), he figures it wouldn’t be wrong to call you at least a little insane. Part of him wonders what humour could be found in the man’s deplorable monologues.

He figures he might as well join in on the entertainment. You’re far from his usual company, but you’ll do. For now. Moseying on over, his signature smirk is already in place.

He’s rewarded by the way your eyes immediately narrow in irritation, a look he’s all too familiar with and thoroughly enjoys on anyone really. Grim, blissfully unaware of what he’s leaving you to, heads off, and now it’s just you and Kaiser.

Leaning in closer, he asks, “What little secret of yours has got under Yoichi’s skin so badly?”

Kaiser waits, watching for the faintest flicker of reaction but you stay silent. How boring.

But! Not one to give up easily, he continues with a more direct jab, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. The one where he acts like he knows everything there is to know about everyone. “That you’re really skilled, and this whole clueless act of yours is just a cheap facade?”

He raises a brow, as if daring you to admit it. To his delight, you lift your head, finally meeting his gaze albeit with an uncomfortably polite smile.

“I was just surprised you’re interested in something like that. But, Isagi’s a total liar. Isn’t he just so annoying? I can’t stand people who just don’t know when to give up, and I’m sure you agree.”

It’s not often someone catches him off-guard, and though he recovers quickly, the flicker of surprise is still there. Kaiser also sees opportunity however. He could work with this.

“Well, if you’re not a fan of Yoichi then feel free to join my side then,” he drawls, offering the position like it’s a dream come true. In his world, he’s already the star; what better way to elevate himself than to recruit someone.

“Ah, no. You’re both terrible.”

He can’t tell what’s worse; you lumping him together with Isagi, or the fact that you immediately walk off without giving him a chance to get the last word in.

────

“It’s like asking me if I prefer cat shit or dog shit. It’s still shit, and there’s no point in picking one over the other.”

You toss the comparison out to Kiyora, of all people — a bit of a waste since he just stares blankly at you, not saying a word. Pretty cute, actually, in a clueless sort of way.

The reality is that, at the moment, if you want a shot at the regulars, you’re supposed to cosy up to either Isagi or Kaiser. And as for everyone else? They’re can either fuck off or pray for a miracle.

Of course, you couldn’t care less about making the regulars. But every now and then, you forget there are people around you who do care, people with actual ambitions. Which is why you pause when you catch sight of Hiori and Kurona.

“Oh, Hiori and Kurona,” you point out the obvious.

They both glance your way, casual and relaxed, which gives you the impression that Isagi hasn’t roped them into his latest paranoid theories. Yet.

“Are ya heading back to training already?” Hiori asks, his soft voice and accent making it sound more like an invitation than a question. There’s a kindness to it that’s almost unsettling here in Blue Lock, but you return his smile with one of your own nevertheless.

Kiyora gives a small nod. “Yeah,” he says, brief and to the point.

You’re half-considering some excuse to slip away and do your own thing, but there’s something about the way Hiori is looking at you that draws your attention. Unlike Isagi, he’s way better at hiding it, but you can still feel his curiosity prickle under your skin.

You give him a lazy smile, leaning into the idea. “I’m already so tired from this morning’s training,” you lie, exaggerating just enough. “Honestly, going to bed early sounds great right about now.”

Morning training was barely enough to get you sweating, just a couple of warm-up drills for the afternoon matches. You doubt they have any clue what you’re talking about, which is exactly how you want it.

There’s a quiet pause, and then Hiori breaks it with a gentle but firm nudge. “Well, if yer looking to get on the regulars consistently, training more could be worth a shot.”

You force a smile that probably looks more akin to a grimace. This is exactly why you don’t like smart people. They poke and prod until your story frays at the edges. He definitely asked that on purpose! With a heavy sigh, you end up walking with them toward the pitch, despite every nerve in you screaming to veer off.

You can’t help but wonder if this is a test.

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Chosen Appa | Wooyoung

- Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Single-mom!Reader.

- Requested by: no one

- Requests: Open for now. Please read my requesting guidelines before requesting.

- Warnings: single mum, hints at readers ex-husband being a cheater and an overall douchebag, best friends to lovers.

- Word Count: 1,205

- Taglist: Open. Send an ask or fill out the Tag List Form.

Wooyoung Masterlist | ATEEZ Masterlist

Walking back into her small living room, Y/N is met with silence. The babbling sounds of her 15-month-old baby girl, who usually keeps herself entertained with her toys in her play pen while Y/N does the housework, has gone quiet. Assuming her little one might have fallen asleep, she peeks into the playpen only to discover that her daughter is missing.  

Panic sets in as Y/N searches every corner of the apartment, trying to convince that her baby isn’t capable of climbing out on her own yet. Her eyes dart to the entrance, where she notices the stroller and the diaper bag are missing. Relief washes over her and is quickly replaced with annoyance as she picks up the phone and calls the only person brave and sneaky enough to kidnap her baby in broad daylight. 

He quickly answers but before he can start his yapping, Y/N yells at him. “Yah! Jung Wooyoung! You better bring my baby back right now.”  

“No,” he says defiantly. “You’ve been under a lot of stress lately with finding a new job, the divorce and your soon to be ex-husband being a total asshole. She’s coming with me to the studio while you have a few hours to yourself," he insists.  "Don’t worry; she’ll be safe and sound. You know everyone here loves her.” 

Y/N can almost hear the smirk in his voice, and it only fuels her irritation further. “You can’t just take her without asking me first! What if something happens? What if she gets scared?” 

“Y/N,” he interrupts, his voice firm yet gentle, “You know I won't let anything happen to her. I protect her as if she's my own." 

"Fine, but if you pull a stunt like this again, you'll never see her again," she warns her best friend. "You got that? I'll make Yeonjun her godfather. You’ll be no one to her." 

"You really trust Yeonjun with Hannie?" he asks, skeptically. 

"He wouldn't kidnap her without me knowing," she defends their mutual friend.  

Wooyoung chuckles on the other end of the call, the sound brings some comfort to her. “You know, I think you’re just jealous because I didn’t kidnap you for the day too. Stop with the housework and enjoy this time to yourself. Take a walk, go get some lunch, do a little shopping.”  

Y/N sighs, her shoulders slumping as she leans against the kitchen counter. The weight of her responsibilities presses down on her. Never did she think she would be jobless, almost divorced and a single mother. But four months ago, everything came crashing down. Her husband’s mistress turned up at their door, crying and pregnant. She left, losing her job in the process, and moved in with her mother who’s been helping support her and Hannie while she finds a new job so she can get an apartment. But finding a job was proving harder than she expected. She’s seriously considering the job her mum offered her at the small restaurant she owns. 

Y/N feels a twinge of guilt for wanting a moment to herself. “I know, but she’s my baby. I can’t help but worry.”  

“Worrying is part of being a mother, but you also need to take care of yourself,” Wooyoung replies, his voice softening.  

Y/N bites her lip, contemplating his words. He’s right, of course. The past few months have been a whirlwind of stress, and she hasn’t had a moment to breathe. “Okay, but I want updates and photos. Text me every hour, or I swear I’ll come down to that studio and take her back myself.” 

"I promise to send you plenty of pictures," he assures her. "Hannie, say see you later, eomma," he adds, moving the phone closer to Hannie.  

Hannie babbles into the phone until a clear word breaks through. "Appa!" 

Y/N’s eyes widen with shock. Hannie just said her first word. Her heart swells with a mix of pride and disbelief. “Did she just say ‘Appa’?” Y/N asks, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she’s afraid to break the special moment. 

"I've been trying to get her to say eomma," Wooyoung admits after putting his phone on speaker, disbelief and pride in his voice also. He quickly ends the call and calls her back on video call. 

She quickly answers and the first thing to pop up on her phone screen is her little girl, her bright eyes sparkling with innocence and joy as she looks past the phone at wooyoung. She’s always imagined the day her daughter would speak her first word, and now it was directed at someone else. Someone that wants nothing to do with her. The reality of her situation hits her like a wave, and she feels a lump form in her throat. 

“Appa,” Hannie keeps saying, her tiny voice filled with joy as she looks up at Wooyoung, her little hands reaching out wanting him to pick her up. "Look, Hannie, it's eomma," Wooyoung says, turning the phone to show Hannie her mother on the screen. For a brief moment, she captures the baby's attention, and Y/N can see the flicker of recognition in her daughter’s eyes. "Can you say eomma?" he playfully encourages, trying to elicit another word from his goddaughter.  

Hannie giggles, her focus shifting back to him, her laughter like music that fills the room. "Appa!" she exclaims again. 

"I think she's calling you Appa," Y/N says, the realization dawning on her. When she thinks about it, Wooyoung has present in Hannie's life more than her own father. Especially since Y/N and her ex-husband ended their relationship. Hannie's father hasn't had anything to do with her since. 

 "Me?" he asks surprised, turning the phone camera back to him. "Why would she call me Appa?" he questions not really thinking about it. 

"Maybe she sees me as a father figure," Y/N tries to convince herself, but deep down, she knows that Hannie is forming connections, and Wooyoung is a significant part of her life. 

"I mean, I’ve been around a lot since you and—" He stops himself, the mention of her ex-husband hanging in the air. 

Y/N swallows hard, the lump in her throat growing. "You have been," she admits, her voice growing softer as she thinks about it. "You’ve been a great, Wooyoung. I don’t know what I would do without you." 

He smiles, but it’s tinged with something more serious. "I just want to be there for both of you. You know that, right? You and Hannie mean the world to me." 

"And you mean the world to us," she replies with a warm smile, her heart swelling with affection. In that moment, she realizes that there could be something more between her, her daughter and her best friend. Wooyoung has stepped into a role that neither of them expected, but it feels right. 

"I don't think this is a conversation that should be spoken about over the phone," he says after a moment of silence. "I'll bring Hannie home now and we can talk more." 

She nods, a small smile playing on her lips and ends the call. She rushes around the room, picking up toys and putting away the play pen. anticipating Wooyoung and Hannie's return home. 

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy, modify and/or repost anywhere.

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[reilemon]

🍒My Everything🍒

♡︎ synopsis: You didn't plan on celebrating your birthday during undercover mission, but Xavier still wanted to surprise you. A little twist on the 21 Days memory.

♡︎ pairing: Xavier x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎ cw: birthday sex, fingering, oral (both male and female receiving), creampie, multiple orgasms

♡︎ word count: 3.4k

♡︎ a/n: I call myself Zayne girlie yet here I am posting my fourth Xavier fic. Anyways, Sylus is next.

♡︎ requested by @sadfragilegirl ♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this! divider by @cafekitsune

The undercover mission with Xavier has been going smoothly so far. You two put up a convincing act of a young couple in love in front of others, and actually got along well behind closed doors. You didn't want to tell him this, but you were genuinely surprised at how good of a homemaker he is. When you heard about the assignment, you were excited that it's him who's going to be living with you, but at the same time anxious. Xavier is a reliable work partner, but what would he be like as a roommate? So far, you had no complaints and actually were looking forward to coming home back to the apartment you and Xavier temporarily lived in for around three weeks.

As you mindlessly stroll around a grocery store, you reminisce about one more cause of anxiety about the mission - your crush on your coworker and neighbor. You're not sure when it started, but it doesn't matter because you made it your own mission to bury those feelings and hope they disintegrate. For a while you considered acting on it and taking the first step, but then you realized you had a lot to lose if it doesn't work out. And you tried to convince yourself that it was just a small crush, because who wouldn't want someone hot and reliable? Right?

A weary sigh leaves your lips and you turn a corner - Party Supplies. Oh. Right, it's your birthday today. You didn't say anything to Xavier because you didn't want to make him feel obligated to buy you a gift or make something today. You two are on a mission after all, and you can get to celebrate it later when it's over.

You pass the party supplies aisle and head towards the check out. You wonder what kind of concoction Xavier cooked today.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

Even though you settled on not celebrating your birthday today, you still wanted to treat Xavier, so you bought a cherry pie from a pastry shop that always smells so good and makes your mouth water every time on the way back from 'work'.

As you fiddle with your keys at the doorstep, you catch a whiff of something burning. Probably from the inside. Another sigh leaves your lips. Xavier burnt something again, didn't he?

Light gray smoke greets you as soon as you open the door, your eyes taking a moment to adjust and then you see Xavier frantically fanning a kitchen towel over the counter.

You can clearly see the panic in Xavier's eyes over the slowly dissipating smoke when he notices you coming in. "Ah - ! Welcome home!"

You can't help but laugh a little at the scene, but also be confused a little at his behavior. He's usually calm even when he causes a kitchen fire. "So what are we having for dinner?" You tease.

Xavier's shoulders slump in defeat and puts away the kitchen towel. He turns to you and finally looks at you properly, with a defeated smile "A neighbor made you one of your favorite dishes." He nudges his head towards the dining table. Your gaze follows his and you gasp at how beautifully the table was set, with the meal and your favorite flowers waiting for you.

"Xavier, what - "

"Oh, what's this?"

He approached you to take the bag with the groceries while your attention was on the table.

"Oh, I got us a cherry pie."

He only nods and goes back to the kitchen to unload everything.

You sneak towards the cremated object, "So, if we already had dinner, what was this supposed to be?"

"Uh, nothing. I was just experimenting." Xavier absentmindedly answers as he finishes putting everything away.

After he refuses your offer to help with airing out the apartment, you then excuse yourself to the bathroom to take a quick shower and change into more comfortable clothes.

When you exit the bathroom, the smell of what you assume to be burnt dessert is almost completely gone, and now you can see everything properly. You walk back into the dining area and your eyes land on Xavier waiting for you by the table. You gasp in delight when you see what's in his hands - a cute handmade paper crown in your favorite colors.

"Happy birthday." Xavier says softly and steps towards you, placing the crown on your head. It sits so perfectly that you think he might've taken your measurements.

You look up at him, still in disbelief "How did you - "

"Know when it's your birthday? I told you I looked at your profile." He chuckles at the silly question and turns to pull back your chair, offering you to take a seat.

While eating, you found out that what he burnt was supposed to be a birthday cake he thought you would like, but while it was baking he used that time to set the table and make the crown. He didn't want to make it earlier in case you found it. And then the neighbor came to drop off the meal and of course had to linger and chat and also invite herself over tomorrow.

"So, the groceries I bought today - "

"I didn't need any of that, I just wanted to buy myself more time."

You got used to Xavier's weird grocery shopping lists, that you didn't even question why you were buying ketchup, pesto sauce or sausages. You were so touched by the amount of effort and thoughtfulness he put into your birthday dinner; you were smiling the whole time. That crush is not going away anytime soon.

But you can tell that Xavier was almost like a deflated balloon, hesitantly answering your questions as you put two and two together.

You reach across the table, placing your hand over his. "I love everything you've done today." You reassure him in a comforting voice, "And it kinda worked out that the cake got burned, because then the pie would go to waste."

He nods, and you hope you made him feel a little better. Then, he takes your hand and places a soft peck on top of it, and you could feel your cheeks burning instantly. You hope he doesn't notice it.

He does.

After dinner, Xavier shoos you away from the kitchen, not letting you do any of the house chores on your day. So you go to the living room to unwind and wait for him to join you.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

"Sorry, I had to take a shower." Xavier finally appears and takes a seat next to you on the sofa. He's wearing sweats (those gray sweatpants!!) and a loose tshirt, his hair still a little damp from washing away the smoke.

"It's okay, I entertained myself." You throw the other half of your blanket over his lap.

"Did you pick out a movie?"

You nod and start playing the movie on the tv. Since you can't go out together as much thanks to the mission, you found ways to pass the time inside your 'new home'. One of them is watching old movies Xavier used to watch years ago.

And about five minutes into the movie, you feel fluffy gray hair tickling you cheek and nose as his head softly drops on your shoulder. You turn your head and of course, Xavier is already dozing off. You smile softly at him - it's only fair to let him rest, so you try to slowly get up and let him lie down on the soft pillows.

With eyes still closed, he lets you snuggle him into the pillows and the blanket, but then his lips form a playful smirk and in one swift motion, he pulls you under the blanket with him, into his arms.

"You can watch the movie like this, right?" He asks as sleepiness overtakes him again, with the crown, barely on your head, poking his cheek.

Your body is stiff against his, and your voice doesn't help hiding how flustered you are "Um, you don't want to go to your room to take a nap?"

"Nope." He mumbles before dozing off.

You adjust to make yourself more comfortable, resting your head on his chest. The movie is rolling, but it doesn't have your attention. All you can focus on is how relaxing Xavier's presence is, with his weird slow heartbeat and soft breathing. His one hand is holding you close by the waist, while the other one found its way on top of yours that's resting on his chest.

All the nervousness about being so close to him slowly melts away, and you drift off to sleep.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

When your eyes flutter open, Xavier's hand is in full focus as he tenderly caresses your cheek. The moonlight is the only source of light in the room now, and you wonder how long you slept. You prop yourself up a bit to look up at Xavier, but the crown you forgot you still had on slides off over your face, earning an amused laugh from him.

He takes it off for you and sets it on a nearby coffee table. Then he goes back to caressing your cheek.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks.

"Ye - Ow!" Numbness in your arm that was under you makes you grit your teeth and shift on the sofa in search for relief.

"Here." His arms effortlessly move you on top of him, your upper body completely resting on top of his, his legs encasing yours. "Better?" He asks as he grazes soothing circles on the numb arm.

Well you're not sure if it is better because your heart is beating like crazy now that you're on top of him, your faces a breath away. You did cuddle a little before, but you were never this close. So close you're sure he can feel your heartbeat. So you just nod, not trusting your voice.

You two share a moment in silence, gazing at each other’s features, Xavier's fingers still not leaving your face.

"It's a pity your birthday was during an undercover mission. I'll make it up to you when we get back."

You shake your head "This is one of my favorite birthdays actually." He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to elaborate and hoping you're not just humoring him. "I mean, I had a lovely home and a handsome husband waiting for me. He got me beautiful flowers and made sure I had my favorite meal."

A tone of uncertainty covers your voice "Who should I thank for that?"

When met with a puzzled look you elaborate "Should I thank you as my fake husband playing his role, or as my coworker -"

The fingers on your cheek cover your lips, cutting you off. "Just thank me, Xavier." The digits gingerly graze your bottom lip.

You speak softly “Thank you, Xavier.” Butterflies dance in your belly as you mull over the next question. "And -" You swallow thickly before continuing "What am I to you, Xavier?"

He doesn't say anything, instead he timidly pulls you closer by the back of your head, closing what little distance you had between your faces, his soft lips giving yours a chaste kiss. And when you don't pull away, your hand cupping his cheek, he pulls into a deep, hungry kiss, your bodies pressed hard, feeling every twitch of the muscle and pulse of your veins under your skin - and it's impossible to ignore growing bulge pressing your lower belly.

Xavier curses under his breath "Sorry, I - !" his words get lost in his throat when your hand grazes over his length over the clothes, your lips latching back onto his.

He groans and bites your bottom lip when you give it a few more strokes, feeling out his shape.

Fuck, it's thick.

Growing impatient, you tug at the waistband of the sinful gray sweats, and Xavier lifts his hips and pulls them down just enough to free his rock hard dick. You break away from the kiss to not so subtly look down and even under the low lights you can clearly see it. The sight of it makes you unconsciously rub your thighs and your mouth water.

You might've stared a little too long because a chuckle from the man under you pulls you out from your trance. But he doesn't tease you, maybe because it's your birthday, instead he pulls you back into another breathtaking kiss, while your hand wraps around his length, slowly stroking it.

But you need more - and in the next moment you're sliding down, adjusting yourself between his legs.

A few strokes to the base of his cock and your tongue on the leaking tip elicits a moan from Xavier's lips, and you discover that it's your new favorite sound. So you do what you need to do to hear more of it. Your swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting precum and the tender skin, before you take in more of his length, and greedily you take more and more before your nose is pressed on his pelvis, short hairs of his happy trail tickling you. You don't care how your jaw is barely holding on around his girth, his moans is what keeps you going and panties already drenched. All restrain from Xavier dissipates with every lick of your tongue and clenching of your throat around the tip.

"Fuck, you're doing so good."

His hips start moving faster than your rhythm, his hand on your head holding you in place. Under the hand that's holding you for balance, you can feel his thigh muscles tremble, and you can feel his cock throb in your mouth.

"I'm gonna cum, princess." He gives you the warning, and loosens his grip on your head, but you take it all in, needing to taste him. And in few shallow thrusts, you're tasting and swallowing his cum, not letting a drop go to waste.

You barely catch your breath before Xavier lifts you up and locks his lips with yours, tongue licking your lips and tongue, tasting himself. Then he switches the positions with you, and now you're on your back, stripped of your pants and underwear, Xavier's lips locked with yours and his middle finger sliding between your wet folds. You moan into the kiss as the finger slides into your entrance, quickly followed by a second one. Your hips start moving to meet the pace, the digits hitting all the right spots and your release already building up. Then his thumb presses your clit that was begging for attention, eliciting a yelp from you making Xavier smile against your lips before continuing kissing you. In a few more pumps of his fingers against your sweet spot, you're a panting mess as you cum around them.

When you come down from your high, he brings up those soaked fingers to his lips and licks them, the sight making you blush. His dick twitches in his underwear as he gets a taste of your essence. He needs more.

Before you can even protest about how you're wet enough, he pushes your legs further up against your torso, his face already between them, his breath fanning against your pussy spreading goosebumps all over your skin. The only thing that stopped him from latching onto your pretty pussy is his need to take in the sight of it for the first time.

You cover your face with your hands, too self-conscious about the close up he's getting, even if there's no lights in here. "Xavier..." You whine and move your hips as much as you can under his grasp.

He chuckles at your cute reaction and whispers how perfect you are, then he finally presses his tongue flat against your glistening folds, and your embarrassment melts away. One hand moves from the back of your thigh under your shirt, fondling your breast and playing with your hard nipple until you're squirming from over-sensitivity and he moves to the other one. His lips latch onto your sensitive nub, swirling his tongue around it, sucking and lapping at it, while his other hand finds its way back into your entrance, two fingers easily slipping in and finding the spots that make you moan and buck your hips.

"Just like that - " You breathe, raking your fingers through his hair and holding onto it, while your other hand grabs onto the arm rest behind you, anchoring yourself as Xavier's tongue and fingers stimulate you at just the right pace and you cry out when another orgasm courses through your body.

Xavier soothingly massages your breast and peppers your inner thighs with kisses as you catch your breath.

You hear him ask against your plush thigh "One more?"

Your eyes open and meet his half lidded gaze. You shake your head and grab his wrist "Just fuck me, please."

He was already on edge of another orgasm from just eating you out, and your breathy plea made him so dangerously closer. He positions himself on top of you and pulling down his underwear that now has a big wet spot from his leaking tip. You watch as he positions his cock against your pussy until you hear his soft voice

"Look me in the eyes, honey."

And you lock your gaze with his, eyes barely staying open as the swollen tip slides inside. With languid thrusts, his cock is buried to the hilt and now Xavier needs to anchor himself - he rests on his elbow, burying his face in the crook of your neck, licking and nipping sensitive skin. His other hand finds yours and holds it tight, interlocking fingers and resting it next to your head.

His thrust are deep and hard, his pelvis grazing your clit, making your cunt throb and squeeze around him, making his movements falter. With a strained voice he breathes against your neck "Gonna cum on my cock?"

You nod as you clench around him more when you hear his voice and see his face as he comes up to lock eyes with you and you grab him by the back of his neck, pulling him into a sloppy open mouthed kiss.

You squeeze his hand and lock your legs around his hips as they roll at the right angle.

"I'm so close, honey." He rasps.

And you are seconds away from your third orgasm, your pussy already spasming. "Need you - haah - inside -!"

You open your mouth in a silent cry his dick throbs in your already pulsing creaming cunt, filling it with hot cum. The two of you moan and grunt, erratically moving your hips, riding out each other's high.

With shaky breaths, you slowly calm down and open your eyes.

The two of you can't help but laugh a little when you see each other's blissed out faces. Xavier gives the hand he's still holding a kiss. Your other hand presses on his back to press you completely against him, needing to feel his whole weight on you.

"I'm not crushing you?" he asks as his face is nuzzled against your neck.

You gently stroke his now messy hair. "No let's stay like this for a while."

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

After cleaning up the mess on the sofa and showering, you're back in the dining room with the cherry pie on the table. Xavier put the candles on it and the princess crown back on your head. You're about to sit on Xavier's lap and then light the candles but then you remember something.

"Shoot, I almost forgot!"

Confused, Xavier watches you as you hurry out in the dining room. Your phone and the lighter are here, so he can't guess what you would need.

You come back with a giddy smile on your face as you hold something behind your back.

"Something for me?" he asks, amused at your expression.

"Yes, but it doesn't look that good because I had to make it quickly." You then reveal a handmade prince crown.

Xavier's eyes widen "When did you -?"

"I guess you forgot to clean up the living room after making mine, so I just scrambled something while you were showering."

Left speechless at your sweet gesture, his eyes switch between gazing at you and the crown.

You feel a little embarrassed at your craftsmanship because it looks poorly made compared to the one he made for you. "Okay, you looked at it enough. I'll make you a better one later."

He chuckles as you place it on his head and sit on his lap. He kisses your hand and then your lips "Thank you, I love it."

After lighting the candles, you close your eyes and make a wish.

[ellie722]

Sevika headcanonsᯓᡣ𐭩

𐙚 Hello!! This is not my usual type of post,and I’m not used to sharing the stuff I write for myself with others but my friend convinced me to!

𐙚 Warnings: None,just lots of fluff! I’m not sure what setting this would be in,but I guess you could count it as canon if nothing went wrong..?

ᝰ.ᐟ Sevika who literally DEVOURS books day by day,like one day you would get her a book she really wanted and the next day she’s yapping about how amazing the ending was,she didn’t have bad eyesight before but since she’s doesn’t drink as much she finds herself with nothing to do so she starts reading,something she always wanted to do,and after reading so much,day and night,her eyesight started to get damaged,it’s not just the books also the age and the stuff she’d been exposed to while working for Silco.

ᝰ.ᐟ Sevika who still has all her old clothes,all her teenage stuff is packed away in the wardrobe and sometimes she takes them out to remind herself what once was.

ᝰ.ᐟ Sevika who actually likes it better without the heavy metal arm,of course when she out and about she has no choice but to wear it,thugs are lurking around the corner everywhere,but when she gets home the first thing she does(after throwing her boots off) is detach her arm and throw it somewhere in the living room corner. She’s actually pretty good with her balance and can do almost everything with only one hand,of course the stuff she can’t do she’ll ask you for help.

ᝰ.ᐟ Sevika who has a pickup she stole from a music shop years ago,it still works and surprisingly well,after a while when you get bored of all of her jazz and sappy music she let’s you play your own shit on it,your vinyl collection isnt that big but she appreciates your taste.

ᝰ.ᐟ Sevika who’s not as neat and tidy as she could be,she tries her best,but folding clothes with one hand is pretty hard,so she just shoves them in her closet,and moping and vacuuming is pretty hard too,so she gets herself one of those ting vacuums that work themselves,she trips over it a few time but gets used to it.

ᝰ.ᐟ Sevika who’s eyes sparkle in the dark,majestically so. She doesn’t know how it happens or that it even happened before you pointed it out,she said it probably something to do with the moonlight and becaus her eyes are grey,but it’s so beautiful. Also kinda scary when you get up to get a glass of water and Sevika comes after you all quiet and when you spot her you have a little heart attack seeing those two big sparkles.

ᝰ.ᐟ Sevika who journals because she’s scared of age catching up to her. She writes down every little thought about you,and all the loving moments she has with you along,she also writes reviews about the books she reads in there,it’s not like anyone reads them.. but she enjoys writing her opinions somewhere.

Sevika who actually starts enjoying life alongside you. 😽

[in-som-niyah]

ok i’ve been having this thought for a while… since jason is so attentive what are some things he would do that makes reader’s life easier??? like i see him as such an acts of service man like if all else fails he will make sure you’re never out of your fav tea or something idk im sorry if this doesn’t make sense 😭😭

"I Do, I Do, I Do"

A/N: digging myself out of a depressive episode with this one + this is my first fic after my long ass hiatus so pls be nice to me im trying

Attentive!Jason Todd will pay so much attention to you you would think he has a camera on you 24/7 and watching your every move.

Jason would remember the big things, like anniversaries and birthdays, but also days of the year when he knows you need the most support from him. If a parent/guardian/loved one died on a specific day/time of year he's attuned to your emotional needs and keeps up with your physical ones (like food and sleep) so you can focus on being ok again. (i am NOT projecting chat)

Jason would also remember the little things, like your favourite tiny spoon, the way you prefer spearmint to wintermint in gum and toothpaste, the way you compulsively brush your hair to the side when your bangs get too long, when it's time for you to leave a social situation. He's just always looking at you and around you to make sure you're happy and smiling when you wave back at him form across the room.

If you have health problems, Jason would never in his life let you run out of meds or whatever you need to combat your illness. The massage gun is always charged, heating pad always available, hot water bottles on standby, compression socks/arm bands at your disposal, everything. He doesn't wait for it to get bad either, he's picked up on your cues so well that he can almost predict a disaster before you do.

Speaking of prediction, he also knows that if you're not off work and in the apartment by a certain time, to start the laundry, dishes and order in/cook a quick dinner because he knows you'll come home a tense ball of stress and worry.

Jason who almost exclusively wears a specific type of softer fabric when you're around him because he loves it when you bury your face in his chest and rest your head on his bicep.

(For the short girlies) Jason who puts rubber corner protectors on the corners of your countertops and tables because you always bash your hips into them when you aren't paying attention.

Jason who does the laundry before you wake up in the morning and folds your clothes exactly the way you do because he knows you're particular about it & doesnt want you to stress about it in the morning.

Jason who puts gas in your car and repairs it himself or sends it to the bats to fix when he can't (he would never admit it though).

Jason who notices your favourite brands of food and makes sure they're always stocked (you're convinced it's witchcraft the way things don't run out)

Jason who just loves you. That's it. That's all. Just love. In any and all ways he can. All the time. In all conditions. In all situations. Patient. Loving. Kind.

[mythalism]

the timing of someone apparently shitting on me for being a veilguard hater on some remote corner of tumblr is so funny because i was actually just in the shower like an hour before listening to the atonement ending suite and thinking about the things that i love about veilguard after almost 2 months of marinating on it, so apologies for destroying my reputation as a certified HATER!!!!!!! but i actually wanted to share these earlier so im still going to. i think its interesting especially because ive seen a lot of people that hate these same things about the game, but my opinion has stayed the same. its also interesting because OVERALL the more i think about veilguard the more i dislike it, but for these certain aspects, the more i think about them the more i love them.

THAT FUCKING SONG!!!!!!!!!!!! HOLY SHIT!!!!!!!!! even two months later i get choked up listening to it. and guys....... i dont listen to lost elf anymore. like i just dont even think of it. thats not to say trevor morris isnt the greatest of all time, and the atonement ending song relies heavily on lost elf. i know. but my favorite parts of the atonement song are not even lost elf!!! overall i missed trevor deeply, i did not like the veilguard soundtrack. i even turned the music volume to 0 at some points because it felt like nails on a chalkboard to me (ghilannain fight music made me want to d*e). HOWEVER. this is supposed to be positive. and if you ask me to choose lost elf vs atonement theme... im choosing atonement theme. every time. the way it adds to lost elf is wonderful. it gives me chills. it is so haunting. i will never tire of it. I LOVE THIS FUCKING SOOOOOONG. i also love the dread wolf song. so honorable mention to that one.

i love the solavellan ending. i know people hate it but nothing i have seen has convinced me to abandon my love for it. it is the best ending we could have possibly gotten in a game where the veil stayed up. and yes obviously i think the veil should have come down. but my IDEAL ending would have been veil down, rook takes over the mantle of dread wolf, solas and lavellan give up their mortal bodies and become spirits together and ascend to the fade. and honestly thats pretty much what happens, just without the veil. i love the mythological fairy tale vibe. i love the bittersweetness. i love that it is both tragic and hopeful. i love that it is vague enough to leave the future open. i love that the devs refuse to confirm where exactly in the fade they are. i love the sigyn loki eros psyche parallels. i love the maker and andraste parallels. could it have been built up to better? absolutely. but thats an issue with the build up, not the ending. i thought solas was going to die and we were going to watch the light go out of his eyes as lavellan held him and sobbed. it is so much more hopeful than i expected. i love that we get to redeem him through the power of love. i love that lavellan forgives him. i love that they survive. I LOVE IT!!!! and i love it the more i think about it. ive tried to hate it because i understand the perspective of people who didnt like it, but i literally cannot make myself dislike it.

i love the solavellan ending scene itself. i love how inky creeps in through the door. dont ask how she got up there its fine. i love how she sneaks up on him. i love that she comes up those stairs and it parallels the prologue scene with varric. i love that she has a zinger ready for him. "even if those you have wronged asked you to stop?" oh its so fucking good. i love his pathetic defeated "vhenan". i love that he rejects her again. i love that he apologizes but stays true to his goals. i love that it takes something beyond lavellan and the modern world to finally crack him. i love the way he looks at mythal like a kicked puppy. i love the way he cannot meet her eyes. i love the way he crumples and sobs and we see a completely different side of him that I NEVER FUCKING EXPECTED TO SEE IN A MILLION YEARS???? i love mythal's coldness and frankness as she releases him. i love that she doesn't apologize. i love how fucked up and messy it is. i love how it speaks to their entire relationship being fucked up and messy. i love that it has given me so much to chew on about what the fuck was going on with them. i love the way lavellan kneels so she can see his face. i love that she speaks in elvhen (even if the translation leaves something to be desired). i love that its all in the hallelujah cadence. i love that he assumes she wont come with him. i love that she has to chase after him one more time. i love his fucking tear mesh. i love his face when he looks at her. i love that their scene is wedding coded. i dont love the kiss but im trying to be positive and its tiny in the grand scheme. i love her hand on his shoulder as they step into the fade. i have a few complaints about the scene but none of them are enough to cheapen my enjoyment of it.

i fucking love fragment mythal. obviously. but seriously. i love the scene where you get her approval its one of my favorites in the entire game. i love that its hard to get her approval. i love that she fucking kills you if you piss her off. i love her lines. "after he killed the swamp witch. AND WEPT." BITCH!!!! and "you are a thousand years from knowing the correct words" or whatever. I LOVE HER. i love how fucking nasty she is. i love how she has clearly been stewing in resentment for thousands of years. i love that she is rude and proud and haughty. i love that she'd be looking down her nose at you if she wasn't like 5 ft tall. i love the way she falls backwards off the ledge with her arms out and closes her eyes to transform into a fucking dragon. i love her condescension. i love the decapitated wolf statues in the background. i love the note from felassan that reveals solas made her an entire island for herself. i love that she reveals that he put her there. i love that he could not bring himself to visit her even once. ohhhhh my god it makes me dizzy. talking to her was a moment where the game felt like dragon age to me.

i love my lavellan in this game. did i want WAY more of her? yeah. and i expected more. but every moment we got i loved. the first scene with her is mostly whatever its appropriately formal for her meeting a stranger. but the way she stutters when talking about solas? when asking rook to give him a chance by using the wolf statue to learn more about him? the way she looks down and to the side as she says it? banger. masterpiece. the act 3 conversation makes me have to lay down. i can barely even talk about it without foaming at the mouth. i love her characterization. i love that she orders rook to tell her something like she has gotten used to the power of her title as inquisitor. i love her subtle desperation to have her hope for him validated cloaked under her inquisitor mask. i love how it begins to crack as the conversation goes on and she gets lost in the memories of him. i love her sincerity. i love the way she speaks bluntly and unapologetically of her love. i love her facial expressions and her furrowed brow. i love how confident and self assured she is. "or maybe im the prideful one, imagining his broken heart so that i do not have to face my folly; that i loved someone who made such terrible mistakes. that i might love him still" IS MY FAVORITE LINE IN THE ENTIRE GAME. perhaps. PERHAPS. in all of dragon age. yes im serious. its that insane to me. it feels like shakespeare wrote it. im only half kidding. i was rolling on the floor of my bedroom when i heard it. it still gives me chills. i love that her lines are in the hallelujah cadence. i love the way she talks about their relationship. i love how she is angry and indignant about his lies to her but that does not infringe upon her love. i love when she says "how could i have fallen in love with a god and not known? why didnt he tell me?' i love how sure she is that she knows the true solas. i love every word out of her mouth. i love all of it. that is my favorite scene in the game. i love when she shows up with dorian in the end. i love "is there any chance, any chance at all that he'd listen to reason?" i love her face when she says it. i love "speaking from the heart, inquisitor?" i love when dorian asks if shes heading out afterwards and she says "something like that" BE SOOOO FRRRR. SHE WAS FUCKING SCHEMING. there was not a moment that she was on screen that i did not love.

overall, i am happy with solas in this game. this one is last because its the weakest because i do criticisms but overall, i think it was fine LOL. my biggest worry was that they were going to completely woobify him and make him above reproach and erase the negative sides of him in favor of making him MORE sympathetic to new players. the fact that we got the opposite is crazy, but i vastly prefer it. id rather have him be too villainous than robbed of his complexity to be more palatable. that would have fully ruined the game for me. so the fact that we got to see him being an absolute prick little shit who betrayed us TWICE was wonderful. i loved being betrayed. i love the scene where he puts rook in the regret prison. i LOVE how he appears behind rooks shoulder in flashes and the player can see him but rook cant. i love how he circles rook like prey. i love how he does that cunty little thing with his hand over the dagger. i love that he taunts rook. i love that he doesnt actually take the dagger from them and instead waits for it to fall into his hand. its so immortal trickster god. i love that fucking scene. i love the "by my hand" line and how he looks you in the face as he manipulates his words so expertly. i love his banters with the companions. i looooooooved listening to him beef with elgar'nan. it felt so HIM. i was like YES!!!! THIS IS THE DREAD WOLF I WANTED TO MEET!!!! i was screaming during that quest. anyway. i wanted more of him. yeah. i dont really care that much that the companions and general story is weirdly unsympathetic to him. because it obviously didnt work!!! LMFAOOO 72% people still decided to redeem him so whatever! hes still pookie. im just so glad they didnt make him boring and lame. all my issues along this vein revolve more around the veil than solas, so i consider it a separate issue. i loved seeing mean nasty cunty trickster god.

ok in retrospect this list isnt that long KJHREGKJERG. however all of these things are very important to me so the fact that i love them is essential. like i truly got what i needed out of this game. i criticize it a lot but i would have done that even if the game was a 9/10 for me. i do it to literally everything i love. except fmab because its above reproach. but literally everything else. i was writing essays criticizing the percy jackson books on tumblr when i was 15. i have been criticizing dragon age online for 5+ years. veilguard aint special in catching my heat. critical analysis is in my soul. anyway i wanted banger solavellan ending that i could chew on for years and i got it. thats all i needed! ok now going to go listen to atonement ending suite again and transcend into the astral plane

[42ap]

I remember that day when we arrived at the beach—it was already too late. Everyone had left, leaving behind only the remnants of fireworks scattered across the sand. Colorful confetti, soaked by the sea, made the advertising print on them nearly illegible. Among shards of broken colored glass and seaweed, you found an already opened condom wrapper in the muck and excitedly pointed it out to me, while I felt nothing but disgust.

At the time, I didn’t love this filthy backyard excuse for a scenic spot. I hated how dull, backward, and utterly empty it was. I especially despised how other small-town residents saw it as some romantic haven, drawing teenagers who wandered the damp sand like pilgrims. They’d come meticulously dressed, as if convinced their destined love would emerge from the sea, birthed into the arms of a lonely soul like a newborn from its mother’s amniotic fluid. But this was the 1970s—the moon was already covered in steel machines. Even Venus ought to emerge from a delivery room by now. The beach was no place for romantic miracles.

You nudged me and told me to take off my shoes. I didn’t. You burst into laughter and, with no regard for the risk of being cut by glass, walked barefoot onto the damp sand. I watched your feet, but you didn’t step on anything—not glass, not anything else. You kept walking into the sea, farther and farther, fading into the growing darkness. Soon, I could barely make out your figure in the vast, dark ocean. Then you stopped, raised your arms, and shouted toward the opposite shore, your voice swallowed at the edges by the white noise of the waves. You sounded happy.

When you came back, you said, disappointed, that you hadn’t expected everyone else to leave so early. You strained your eyes toward the other side but saw nothing—not even the lights of New York. Because it’s already four in the morning, I said, swallowing the second half of my sentence. We were late because I wouldn’t leave the house until I finished an assignment I was deeply invested in at the time. You never interrupted my studies.

We leaned against the car, watching sparks crawl along the fuses of the fireworks you’d set up, and you cracked open a can of beer. I declined when you offered me one, immediately regretting it. The fuse took far too long to ignite the firework. I had nothing to do but look around and again caught sight of the torn condom wrapper. Not long ago, someone had made love here, I thought. Then you moved.

We were standing so close that I could feel your body heat in the gaps between the sea breeze. Someone had made love here, right on this beach, and now we stood on the very same sand where they had.

The firework exploded—yellow and orange. You shouted in excitement, but I was lost in thoughts of what happens when people make love. They take off their clothes. They touch each other. They whisper sweet words. Smoke rolled up from the firework casing as I turned to look at your face, bathed in orange-red light. Then, with a jolt of horror, I realized that lovers also kiss on this beach.

As the yellow sparks faded, they turned the color of calcium chloride. The purple ones, I thought, must be from strontium salts and copper chloride. These burning metal salts streaked through the air, their brilliant colors dyeing the smoke that trailed behind them. I tilted my head and lowered my gaze, pretending to examine the firework casing but really sneaking glances at your face from the corner of my eye, trying to study the shape of human lips.

Kissing. I thought about the word. I didn’t know how to French kiss, but at that moment, I knew nothing could stop me from leaning forward and pressing my lips to yours. A chill ran down my spine.

I asked myself why I would think such a thing, but a more terrifying voice asked why I wouldn’t. Maybe it was a kind of high-place phenomenon, like wondering whether touching the firework would hurt. I wanted to know what it felt like to jump from a great height, to drink sulfuric acid, to press a blade hard enough to slice my finger open, to walk into the sea and let myself be submerged. I wanted to know what would happen if I kissed you. It was all just idle thoughts, but in that moment, I felt dizzy, hyperaware of every part of my body as though I might forget to breathe if I didn’t focus.

I started to feel trapped inside my own small body. I thought I saw you glance at me, and I was terrified you might know. I was even more terrified that you didn’t, because that would mean we weren’t close enough.

I wondered what excuses I could use if I did it, and that thought pained me because I wanted to be honest with you. Sitting beside you on that New Year’s night, watching the fireworks turn purple, all I could think about was how intensely I felt that if I didn’t kiss you at that moment I might die,I would never have another chance. Summoning all my courage, I finally turned to look at you, overwhelmed by thoughts and realizing I might start vomiting if I didn’t speak. Just then, you turned to look at me too. In your eyes, I saw the reflection of the fireworks.

You said, “After we finish the fireworks, can we go to my friend’s house and watch a movie? There’ll be a bunch of people—it’ll be fun.”

I said, “Sure.”

We finished setting off all the fireworks we had. It was fun. We even tried to use the fireworks to light the surface of the sea. On the way back, we saw other people—they had just gone elsewhere to hang out. You stroked the steering wheel, musing about how great the car’s engine was, and that was the first time in my life I felt shame.

[thedoctorisgroovy]

I come bearing a request!

Spencer Reid x Male reader who's just joined the BAU, but suffers from mild hallucinations. It's not enough to impede on their ability to work, but they still keep it a secret and don't get it diagnosed out of fear of losing his job or being treated differently by the team.

But then Spencer notices him taking pictures of empty spaces to confirm they're actually empty or maybe even talking himself down from an episode when he thinks no one's around. a nice little hurt comfort yknow?

Thanks so much for the request, I hope you like it! It got a little away from me and is longer than I planned hahah. I ended up writing this in first person, so even though it's x reader it's a lot of "I did etc." Use of he/him pronouns, readers describes themself as a crazy man at one point. 18+ MDNI! Spencer is a sweetie in this, I wanna give reader a hug.

Warnings: proceed with caution please, mention of schizophrenia (reference to Diana), physical hallucinations, creature type hallucinations, reader is afraid but also makes jokes about their condition, spencer's addiction issue, mention of dilaudid use, mention of injection, angst, HAPPY ENDING I PROMISE!.

Words: 1,285

I stood in the elevator, heart pounding and sweating slightly trying to calm myself down after the difficult morning I had been faced with. My “friends”- as I call them - had decided to join me during my morning routine and send my mind into chaos and fear. I’d only been with the BAU for a few weeks and hadn’t quite settled into the confusing hours of when to eat or sleep, so my morning was filled with rushing around trying to get ready for the day. It started off as fleeting movement out the corner of my eye, which I tried to ignore. I was used to the peripheral figures, and groaned sarcastically trying to show my brain that I wasn’t interested this morning.

“What? I’m busy!” I shouted towards nothing in particular, hoping my brain would get the message. It wasn’t until I turned towards the mirror by the door, checking that I was presentable before leaving. All it took was the grin appearing behind me in the mirror before grabbing my bag and bolting out the front door, essentially running down the street to work.

I pushed the glass door to the bullpen open and froze in my tracks, seeing the figure sat at my desk chair, grinning at me. I turned and sprinted down the hall, looking for somewhere, anywhere safe to hide. I barrelled into a filing closet, slammed the door behind me and slid down the wall opposite, tucking my knees into my chest and rocking to self soothe. There was a determined but light knocking at the door and I heard Spencer call my name. I didn’t respond - couldn’t respond at first, convinced that it wasn’t him. It was whatever that thing was trying to trick me.

“How do I know it’s really you?!” I shouted out, the panic in my voice apparent.

“You once told the team that your favourite movie is Star Wars: A New Hope, but you later told me that it’s actually Disney’s The Lion King you just didn’t want to admit it to everyone.” He affirmed through the door, luckily convincing my brain enough to allow him entry. I mumbled through sobs that he could come in and he flew towards me, shutting the door a little too forcefully by accident.

“Hey hey, it’s okay. You’re safe, it’s just me and you here.” Spencer soothed gently, crouching down to my eye level and placing his hand on my knee. We sat for a few minutes in silence while I tried to regulate my breathing, him rubbing small circles on my knee. When the panic had subsided, Spencer spoke up again.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on? You don’t have to, but you’d be surprised at the things I’ve dealt with myself.” I laughed quietly at his statement. Not because I was surprised or to be dismissive but because I did actually believe him. In the brief time I had spent with him - talking with him around the bullpen and being partnered on cases together - there was something in his eyes that showed a similar depth and pain to my own. Even though I barely knew Spencer, I felt like I could trust him. He seemed like the kind of person to take your secrets to his grave if you needed him to. If anyone on the team was to understand, he would. I sniffed and tried to steady myself, placing my hands flat on the cold tiled floor. I used the sharpness of the cold stinging my hands to ground myself and muster up some courage to explain what was going on. I tried to meet his eyes but in one swift flick, shame took over my body and forced my gaze down into my lap instead.

“I see things.. sometimes. I don’t know what they’re called or why, but I do. And they scare the shit out of me, man! I know I’m supposed to be this big tough FBI agent who takes down the bad guys, but when the bad guys are in my head too, it freaks me out.” I laugh again almost incredulously, not believing that I’m admitting this out loud and that to Spencer, I must’ve looked like a crazy man just ranting at his crotch. I tried once more to look up at him, and was met with his head tilted 45 degrees in confusion but compassion in his eyes.

“I’ve never been diagnosed with anything or told anyone because I didn’t wanna blow my chance at getting this job, or lose it once I got it. I’ve been therapy a few times in the past and they said it was due to childhood trauma that I can’t remember. I’m not crazy Reid I promise. And it doesn’t affect my job, it just gets overwhelming sometimes. Please man, you can’t tell Emily or the others.” I pleaded with him, tears starting to form again, breath hitching in my throat. Spencer switched from crouching to cross legged on the floor.

“You know, many years ago, I was kidnapped by an Unsub. His name was Tobias Hankel. He tortured me by injecting me with a narcotic called Dilaudid and it made me hallucinate. I was addicted to it and even though the hallucinations scared or upset me, I couldn’t stop. So even though it’s not the same, I know what it’s like to be afraid of your own mind. My mother has schizophrenia and I was afraid for many years that I would develop it too. I saw how she suffered and she didn’t want to get help, but she did and she’s doing better now.” He paused, stopping himself from rambling.

“I’m sorry you’re dealing with this.” Wow. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d dealt with a lot. His words caused an emotional rollercoaster to unlock inside my head. Grateful that he understood, pity that he dealt with such harsh things, hopeful that because he and his mother were healthy that I could be too, and vulnerable after exposing my truth. His question brought me back down to earth.

“Is this why you’ve been taking pictures around the room sometimes?” He asked softly - almost in a whisper but inquisitively. I nodded solemnly and sighed.

“It’s to prove to myself that there’s nothing there. If my eyes see it but the camera doesn’t, then it’s in my head.” Spencer thought for a moment before speaking.

“Okay here’s what we’re gonna do.” I rolled my eyes at him, ever the pragmatist. “I won’t tell Emily or anyone else if you promise me to get some sort of help. I don’t believe you’re crazy, but this is clearly upsetting you and as my friend I don’t want to see you hurting. If you end up getting a diagnosis or medication, we’ll cross that bridge together when it comes okay? But for now, I can help you find someone professional to talk to.” He stood up and stretched his legs quickly before extending his hand towards me and pulled me up into a hug. I wasn’t used to hugs from the team, let alone self proclaimed germaphobe Spencer, but I allowed myself to relax into it. We left the filing closet and returned to our desks, pretending that nothing had happened. He rummaged through his desk, pulling out a singular business card and leaning over to drop it in front of me. ”Dr Katherine Reynolds. MD - Therapist.”

We exchanged smiles before attending to the mountain of paperwork awaiting completion. The “friends” I’d made may not go away any time soon, but I was happy to add Spencer to my list of positive ones.

[queensunshinee]

I told you things || Art Donaldson x reader

Warnings: mention of a drunk driver (DON'T do that!!!), also it's kinda sad so be aware of the angst. Word Count: 2.7k

I told you things

This is a foolish event. You look at yourself in the mirror and tell yourself that all you need to do is smile, shake hands, stand beside your grandmother, and eat an oyster. Sip champagne. Get drunk on the champagne. Ignore Art Donaldson. Piece of cake. You take a deep breath and enter the hall, seeing the fancy dresses of people who were once your friends and their parents. People who are almost strangers but also so familiar. "You made it, good. Please don't slouch," your grandmother reminds you to straighten up every three minutes when she's beside you. "It’ll help you project presence," she always says. She's a powerful woman; the way she speaks and carries herself is filled with a regal and noble quality that you lack. You’re your father's daughter, and he's been denying the fact he's her son since the day he learned the meaning of the word "deny." You feel out of place, but you're standing tall, and that's all that matters to her right now.

By the tenth handshake, you've lost count. By the third glass of champagne, you've lost meaning. Because Art only looks at you when he thinks you're not looking at him. He stands in the corner with Patrick, who greeted you with his dad, but Art looked at everything in the room except you. You find yourself making small talk with Art's mom, who was always like a second mom, maybe even the first if you consider your relationship with your own mother. And she tells you how well he's doing. How successful he is at Stanford. That he’s never been this happy.

So you say you're happy for him because you really are happy for him. Everyone wants to see the people they love happy. Everyone wants to hear that they're doing well, that they've found their purpose. That they’re not wandering lost in the world. That they live in a universe full of meaning. Art Donaldson is the best you know at meaning. He decided he'd be that figure, that player everyone knows. A name mentioned at family dinners when people talk about what's new in American sports. He’ll be the one who makes dreams come true.

"(Y/N), it’s been a while since we've seen you here," one of your grandfather's friends approaches you and pulls you into a hug for no apparent reason. It’s always the same middle-aged people. Always men. Always letting themselves hold on four seconds longer than appropriate. More than socially acceptable. The only thing it made you think of is that every other time you'd encountered behavior like this, Art was beside you, pulling you away with a pretext no one could resist. You almost started crying in the middle of the hall. In the middle of a charity event. In the middle of life. Just like that, crying. Like when you were younger. When you didn’t need an excuse, when it was okay because someone would already be your advocate and say, "She's tired."

Now you're tired too, but no one finds it necessary to be your advocate. . . . Between forced smiles and small talks, you found yourself sneaking outside to smoke a cigarette, nearly ignoring everyone you once considered friends who now live in a parallel world. A world where choosing between you and Art is simple because you're far away. Because you come once a year, and Art is an inseparable part of their lives. Their smiles are apologetic when they glance at you, quickly returning to their conversations, to the laughter you used to be part of.

"It's not sexy, you know?" Patrick's voice came from behind you, laced with a hint of arrogance. He didn't see, but you definitely rolled your eyes. "I thought everything was sexy in your opinion," you shot back, not looking at him as he came close enough to light his cigarette with yours. "Except for self-pity. That's pathetic," he said, taking a deep drag. "I'm not pitying myself," you replied, too quickly for it to sound convincing. "Why didn't you say hello to anyone?" he asked, not taking his gaze off you. "I said hello to everyone." Another eye roll, this time one he could see. "Bullshit, sugar, you did a round with your grandpa and hugged old folks. You said hi to your friends' parents—that doesn’t count," he didn't let anything slip by. It was infuriating.

"It's just one night, Patrick. I won't have to see anyone here again." You said with determination, as if trying to convince yourself it was true. Both of you knew it wasn’t just one night. "And what will you do all summer? Sit in their house and cry about how awful your life is? Unbeli—" "That's enough, Patrick." Art's voice made your heart skip a beat. You hadn’t seen his face, or his curls, or his crossed arms, but you already felt panic wrapping around you. "Give us a moment," he added, still not coming closer. He didn’t stand beside you or in front of you. He stayed in his position of power. He could see you, but you couldn’t see him. You looked at Patrick as if he was the only one who could save you at that moment. You let the tightness in your throat show, and the plea in your eyes was unmistakable. You weren’t too proud to beg if it would make him stay and not leave you two alone. Patrick looked at you for another moment, showing not an ounce of mercy as he shrugged and started to walk away. Bastard. Absolute bastard. "Dickhead," you muttered, watching his clumsy steps until he disappeared from view.

Art's chuckle was faint but just loud enough to make you regret the cigarette you stepped outside to smoke. What was so urgent that you had to edge closer to death? Why couldn’t you hold back before giving in to this stupid addiction? "Want one?" Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed the slight tremor in your voice as you offered Art a cigarette. Anyone else would’ve interpreted it as confidence. He saw it for what it was, a defense. It was all you had to place between the two of you—a stretched-out hand and a pack of Winston Lights. Patrick was right. It really was all pathetic. "I don’t smoke anymore," he sighed, leaning against the makeshift railing next to you, not looking at you but straight ahead, the same way you weren't looking at him.

"That's a nice dress," he broke the silence. "Thanks, my grandma chose it," you mumbled, trying to find meaning in this conversation. A conversation with a stranger who knows all your secrets. A stranger who knows what makes you laugh and what makes you cry. A stranger who holds half of your heart in his hands. "I'm not surprised, she has good taste. She always picked the best movies and took us to the best restau-" he began, slipping into nostalgia. "I’ll suggest she divorce my grandpa because she might have a suitor," you interrupted, glancing at him just for a second to see his face fall slightly and to hear his bitter chuckle. You turned your gaze the other way, ashamed of what you'd done. That you'd knocked the wind out of him in an instant.

"How are you?" he asked. "We haven't spoken in a while." You could sense the tension in his voice. It should've made you feel better, realizing that you weren’t the only one who was anxious, that he felt bad too. But it only made you shift uncomfortably. He was supposed to be okay. He’d moved on. He wasn't there anymore. You were the only one stuck a year back. The only one who couldn’t move forward with her life. Everyone else was at a different stage. Everyone knew what they wanted, and Art was no different. More than that, Art could be the leader of those who know what they want. "Everything’s fine, you know, routine," you found yourself mumbling. "What's the routine?" he asked, this time looking at you, his voice desperate for information. For details. "You don’t want to know," you gave him a forced smile. "But I’m fine, really," you quickly added. "They covered it all up as if nothing happened, so you don't have to worry."

And again, he let out a bitter laugh, and if it made sense, he would’ve stomped his right foot and shaken you. Because you have to talk to him. Because he's to blame. You know he's to blame. He knows he's to blame. Patrick knows he's to blame. But you’re not willing to talk to him anymore. And how is it fair? That he continues as if nothing happened. As if he once dreamed of you and you’re just a character he invented to pull him out of any quicksand he stumbled into.

"I'm really sorry, Shug," he said, not knowing how much longer he could hold back the tears. Not knowing how long he could keep his composure. He hadn’t expected to see you here today, but here you are, looking so beautiful and good and distant. Keeping your distance, keeping it safe. As if you were born to protect him from the world. As if you'd always be there but would disappear the second he didn't need you anymore. And how is that fair? He asks himself over and over- how is that fucking fair?!

"Art, I chose to do this." Your voice didn’t waver as you looked at him this time. Because you truly believed it. You chose. No one forced you. You decided. "I told you to leave. I told you not to be there. I chose." You repeated it. Your gaze was piercing. His blue eyes glowed as if he were listening to a prayer. As if God were speaking to him. Last summer, you both went to a party, and Art drove drunk. He didn’t hurt anyone, but he sped and crashed into a bridge. You told him to leave before the police arrived. No one got hurt. There was no reason his entire future should be ruined. He was supposed to start at Stanford. You both were supposed to start at Stanford. He went on to college, and you started community service. And that’s fine; you convinced yourself it was completely fine because you chose it.

"Shug, what’s your routine?" he asked again, desperate for a piece of information. You hadn’t answered calls, and your grandparents had wiped you off the map. They’d cut you off from everything you knew to get their beloved granddaughter (who they’d once seen as an angel until that moment) back on track. Whatever, so you had to collect a little plastic and paper in Kentucky. So there were more racists there than you'd expected in any place. So someone once called you a "filthy Jew" for asking him not to throw his can on the ground. So what? Your grandparents had been through far worse. And they’re fine. You helped a friend, and he’s fine. You’re fine, too. Everyone knows you’re fine.

"I'm working, and this year I'll start college, so it’s like I took a gap year- no big deal." You shrugged. "Are you starting Stanford this year?" Art straightened up for a moment, the spark in his eyes rekindling. He couldn’t believe everything could just be left behind. That everything was working out like this. That he only had to wait a year, and it would all be behind you. "Oh, I gave up on Stanford. I don’t really vibe with California," you said, as if it wasn’t a big deal, as if your grandfather hadn’t tried to convince the university administration to take you back despite the criminal record. "Fuck, (Y/N)," he started pacing back and forth, unable to believe the nonchalant tone coming out of your mouth.

"Art, it’s not a big deal." You put the second cigarette in your mouth, unable to stand this conversation any longer. "How is it not a big deal? Your life was ruined," he wanted to shake you, wanted you to get mad at him. To hate him, even if just for a moment. "I lov-" "Don’t say that," you cut him off, taking a step back. "Why not, Shug? You know it’s true. You know that I-" he tried again, more determined this time. "You don’t love me. you feel guilty, but there’s no reason, Artie. Really, there isn’t," you tried to convince him. "I told you to leave. You didn’t ask. I wanted it to be exactly like this. I wanted you to go to Stanford. You dreamed of Stanford," you nodded toward him as you spoke, trying to project confidence instead of the fragility you felt inside. "We dreamed of Stanford," he stopped pacing and stood in front of you, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Tell me about Stanford," you said softly, feeling your tears well up, almost betraying you and the resolve you tried to uphold. "So many people. Most of the time, I don’t know where I fit. But Tashi’s there, Patrick’s girlfriend." He paused, taking a breath, and you could see he was fighting his own tears. "Tell me more," you asked. "The courses are hard. I’m not good at most of the subjects, not like you. I’ve never played tennis at this level." He continued, "You’d love the library. I’m lost there. No one is kind enough to help me find a book." You both chuckled, too afraid to move. "What else?" you asked, almost desperate for more details. "I ranked first at Stanford by the end of the season. Maybe next season they’ll want me to start a campaign, go pro. Nike reached out." He said, watching you, seeing your smile grow.

"That’s amazing, Art. It’s everything we wanted." And it really was everything you wanted for him. He was exceptional. You always knew he was exceptional. He’d walk into a room, and the room would skip a beat. Almost fall silent. Sometimes you wondered if it was the room or just you. "It’s not all I wanted," he returned. And you both knew what he meant. "You’re going to leave a mark on America, Donaldson. You’re going to be the biggest thing to come out of here. You’re going to change American tennis. Ten years from now, little kids will have your poster on their walls." You smiled at him, as he brushed a rough but gentle hand against your cheek, wiping away the tear that managed to escape.

"And you? Where will you be in ten years?" he asked, and in response, you pulled him into a hug. Because maybe you lost a lot over the past year, but it was worth it. You didn’t know what your dreams were, the ones you had felt so trivial and small. Like eating pineapple for dinner, learning all the lyrics to Linkin Park songs by heart, managing to read three books a week, loving Art Donaldson. While your small dreams sometimes flickered to life, Art Donaldson's dreams would change the world, and that was such a clearly humbling thought that no one would ever understand.

The sad truth is that everything you once told him about your dreams and hopes doesn’t matter anymore. Everything you shared about who you wanted to be flipped over to help him become who he wanted to be. And that’s okay. Really okay. Soon Art Donaldson would be everyone’s and no one’s at the same time, and in ten years, he would be where he was meant to be, and you would be someone he once knew, someone who told him secrets he wouldn’t remember. . . . As you walked back into the hall, leaving him behind and wondering how smudged your mascara was, you remembered to stand tall. maybe it will help a little.

Hey there, so here we are with the saddest thing I could possibly write. It's lacking any smut, so sorry for that. I guess it's the only mood I could deliver to the table LOL I'd like to hear your thoughts as always ❤️

[flyflutterby]

The leaks leave me so confused tbh

Ochako isn’t raising her pinkie to avoid floating Deku during that leaked reconnection moment and she wasn’t wearing the gloves that would make that unnecessary. (Also, people are saying it’s the last panel of the epilouge, yet it doesn’t have the usual ending box.)

Jirou has both her ear-jacks in some of the leaks and some characters are missing scarring. There’s one panel where Bakugou’s hand is drawn from an odd angle that lowkey does not look good posing wise (Horikoshi is usually a GOD of drawing and posing hands, so I legit thought that was a fan drawing, until someone said it was apparently a leak?) Also, Todoroki’s face looks like it changes in structure between some of the leaks, but maybe I’m just imagining that?

Then there’s Deku rejecting Bakugou’s offer to join his hero agency so he can keep teaching. It feels like yet again he’s copying All Might to his own detriment, because even if he likes teaching, his arc, focus and drive has always been heroism. All Might becoming a teacher was because his whole thematic purpose was to pass the torch on that would lead everyone into a brighter future. Deku’s motivation has always been to save people as a hero. Furthermore, even if you don’t ship BakuDeku, they have always been thematically tied as heroes.

“Win to save and save to win.”

Wasn’t the whole point of Deku’s narrative was that he was going to destroy himself if he kept going it alone? Yet, he’s pushing Bakugou away after everything is done (Kirishima apparently even jokes that Bakugou got rejected/dumped? Probably not an accurate translation but STILL-!) Izuku feels flanderised, borderline OOC. Bakugou looks so fucking sad and resigned too. I want better for him as a character I watched grow over the years as I read the manga.

To clear things up, I ship BakuDeku, but I wasn’t expecting canonicity.

My problem is that I love platonic IzuOcha. Maybe a part of my reason for liking them was projection, but that’s what media is about. Enjoyment, interpretation and discourse. I can only speak to personal experience.

I lost a friendship with a guy as a young gay girl because people kept joking/insisting I liked him romantically. I pulled away like Ochako did, doubted my sexuality and tried to convince myself the awkwardness was butterflies, before finally coming back to sense. I did not get my friend back after things broke down. I yearned so bad for subversion, for a platonic IzuOcha that overcame the silliness (implanted by a girl who shipped All Might and Midnight because they stood next to each other during the Sports Festival and All for One’s literal spy at the time) to become best goddamned friends and great heroes. It just felt like Ochako didn’t think of Deku like that until someone else said it to her (very much teenaged behaviour).

I initially loved the reconnection scene as their friendship being cemented, as them drunkenly coming together to realise they missed each other. I thought it was so sweet and I was so HAPPY. I read it as drunk but platonic.

Then people kept saying this confirmed IzuOcha canon romantically. I fell down a rabbit hole. I ran through a gambit of all sorts to shitty emotions before I regulated myself to write this.

I’m tired and confused, my dudes. I’m going to stick to my little corner once I got this out. I got exams to prepare for, life to live and a loving girlfriend to hug. Still kinda upset, but my weird, autistic, gay ass can heal.

Stay hydrated and healthy x

[oddinary4bts]

Sinful Lust | myg & jjk

☆summary: in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...

☆pairing: bisexual boyfriend!Yoongi x female!reader x Jungkook

☆rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

☆genre: mostly smut. a tiny little bit of angst if you squint real hard. an open-ending if I decide to make this into a full fic, snippets of life!au

☆warnings: cursing, alcohol, pet names, explicit content: lingerie set, threesome, dom!jk, sub!yoongi (with a tiny little bit of switch maybe), switch!reader, consent bc consent is important!, oral sex (female and male receiving, male on male, female on male and male on female), Jungkook has a praise kink, dirty (filthy) talking, hair pulling, jerking off, tits play, ass slapping, ass biting, deep throating, clit play, fingering, pussy slapping, ass eating, ass fingering, unprotected sex (please use protection irl), big dick!jungkook, finger sucking, mouth fucking, edging (sorry yoongi), anal sex, double penetration, choking, aftercare (none for jungkook :( )

☆word count: 10.4k

☆a/n: Yeah so. This is pure filth. I am sorry. I lost control of myself and... yeah. No regrets though. I hope you’ll enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it hahaha. Thank you @moonleeai as always for beta-ing this fic <3

☆a/n pt2: also, I switched up my writing style a little for this one bc I wanted to try something new, so my bad if it’s trash. And another thing that’s worth mentioning: I do not own BTS or any of the members. I do not know what they are like irl (I do not claim to know their personalities, sexual orientations, beliefs, etc.). This fic is just a work of fiction, so please keep that in mind while reading

☆series masterpost

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

           If there is one thing you have figured out about your boyfriend, it’s that he likes men just as much as women. Has probably never really indulged into his fantasies with the male gender, but you know he desires it, in the deep dark corners of his heart.

You know he has a thing for one of his younger friends. And you can’t blame Yoongi – Jungkook is a source of fantasies even for you. With the sleeve of tattoos, piercings, and his new motorcycle, you’re pretty sure Jeon Jungkook is the initiator of a lot of fantasies in the people surrounding him. Because Jungkook is sinfully beautiful, with his long hair and muscular body. An image of lust and desire.

Yoongi is sitting across from you. Eyes lost in his book, with a strand of his long hair actually hiding his gaze from you. He hasn’t noticed you worrying at your bottom lip, or the way you have been tightening your thighs together for the last minute. You have a clear image in mind: him, going down on Jungkook. And you know Yoongi will say yes if you ask.

Indeed, he’s never refused you anything when it comes to sex. He’s happy to indulge in your own fantasies, and finds pleasure in seeing you come undone. Maybe it’s time you find pleasure in seeing him come undone.

“Yoons”, you breathe.

It’s whiny, the way you say it. Yet he keeps his attention on his book, mouth falling open. “Uh?”

“Is there something you would like to do?”

He looks infinitely confused, and his eyes finally flit to yours. “Right now?”

You nod, tilting your head to the side until it rests against the couch. Your eyes are dark, lustful, and you bash your eyelashes for him.

He immediately gets the meaning.

“Oh.” He puts his bookmark in place, before dropping the book on the coffee table. “Isn’t Jungkook supposed to drop off some stuff later?”

All part of the plan. Jungkook went on a trip to another country a few weeks ago and bought alcohol for you and Yoongi. He’s supposed to drop it off after dinner, and you can’t help the wandering thoughts in your head.

“Yeah?” you let out, sighing heavily.

With a little bit of dramatic effect too, maybe.

“What’s up with you?” Yoongi asks, and there’s the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

It’s been established in your relationship that Yoongi is bisexual. So you don’t feel a tug of regret when you say, “Would you ever be interested in having sex with a man?”

A confused line appears between his eyebrows. “While dating you? I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

You keep silent, wetting your lips, and it takes him a moment for him to understand that that’s not what you meant.

“Oh”, he lets out again. He chuckles, and the smirk reappears on his lips. “What has been troubling your thoughts, sunshine?”

“I know you want it”, you simply state.

He’s not stupid enough to deny it, so he remains silent.

“What do you think about a threesome?” you ask.

At that he ponders for a time. “I don’t know if I’d like sharing you with someone else.”

You had expected that answer. But you know what to say to convince him otherwise. “What do you think about Jungkook?”

You don’t miss the light flush that moves on Yoongi’s cheeks. It’s echoed on your own cheeks.

“What about him?”

You cock an eyebrow, because Yoongi knows just as well as you what you’re implying.

“He’d never say yes.”

Your fingers travel up to your lips, and you pinch the bottom one between your index and thumb. You think for a time. Yoongi is not wrong. You have no idea how you’d convince Jungkook to do something like that. Even if Jungkook is the type to sleep around a lot, you don’t know if he’s ever done anything similar.

More than that, you don’t know if he’d be willing to have sex with one of his friends. But Jungkook… Always willing to offer a helping hand Jungkook… You’re pretty sure he’d do anything for one of his hyungs.

“There’s no hurt in asking”, you point out.

Yoongi folds his arms on his chest. “It could make our friendship pretty awkward.”

You have an inkling Jungkook won’t say no though. So you offer your best puppy eyes to Yoongi.

He chuckles, and shakes his head. But you know by the blush that hasn’t left his cheeks that Yoongi is just as willing as you are to ask.

Maybe he’s been thinking about it himself, you wonder.

You figure you should prepare, if you’re to ask Jungkook tonight. Yoongi helps, and you realize he’s a lot touchier than he usually is. Kissing your neck while he’s hugging you from behind, pressing you against him. It’s his way of saying thank you. You know he probably won’t voice the words, but he’s the man you love.

You know him well enough after all.

The hours tick by slowly, and when you hear the doorbell ring you both startle. You look at Yoongi, and he offers you no salvation. You’re the one that will have to ask.

You make your way to the door, opening it to reveal Jungkook. He’s just as attractive as ever, with his oversized black t-shirt that hides the upper part of his sleeve of tattoos. You drink in the sight, offering him a warm smile as he greets you with his bunny grin.

“Hey Jungkook”, you reply, and you open the door wider for him.

He doesn’t hesitate, stepping in and around you. “Yoongi-hyung!” he says as a way of greeting your boyfriend.

Yoongi has moved closer, and he grabs the bottle of whiskey Jungkook has brought back from Scotland. You notice your boyfriend looks a little uncomfortable, but Jungkook’s eyes have already moved back to you.

“How was the trip?” you ask as you close the door behind him, leaning against it.

Jungkook is holding his biker helmet in one hand. Your thoughts provide you with an image of him riding the motorcycle, and it’s all you can do not to bite your lips.

“It was awesome”, he says. “Road tripping around Great Britain was way more fun than I thought it would be.”

You cock your head to the side prettily. “Was it?”

Jungkook nods, and his eyes dip on your frame. You think he hasn’t noticed the way you’re dressed before, because his eyes widen a little.

You’re wearing jeans, with a set of lingerie under a shirt. Your oversized white dress shirt probably hid it at first, but Jungkook’s gaze takes a while before moving back up to your face.

You’re pretty sure it has gotten a shade darker by the time he meets your gaze again.

“It was”, he replies. He glances at Yoongi, probably wondering if the scorching look you’ve been eyeing him with is normal, or if something’s wrong with Yoongi.

Yoongi is still holding the whiskey bottle, and he raises it a little. “Want a glass?”

Jungkook is a smart man. He doesn’t always let it show, but you know those big, doe eyes of his notice everything. You almost think you won’t even have to ask out loud. He’s already connected the dots by the time he looks back at you.

“I hoped you’d ask.” The words are said in a lower tone than the voice he usually uses. It feels intimate, and a drop of warmth moves down your spine.

“You’ve gone so far to get it for us, it’s only normal we offer some to thank you.”

He gulps. You know he’s fighting internal demons right now, trying not to gaze down at your breasts again. So you push up from the door, walking around Jungkook, close enough for your arm to brush his.

“Why don’t you come in?” you say over your shoulder, as you make your way to the kitchen to get glasses.

You and Yoongi form a great team. Because by the time you join them in the living room, Jungkook is sitting on one end of the couch, and Yoongi is turning on some ambient music. Nothing too high-key, because you don’t want to scare Jungkook away.

You need to make sure he wants this too, even if he probably has connected the dots already.

You put the glasses down on the coffee table next to Yoongi’s book before grabbing the whiskey bottle. Before you open it, you kneel down, sitting on your heels. That way when you pour Jungkook will have a direct view of your cleavage. You take your time pouring, feeling the burn of his gaze on your curves.

“Isn’t she pretty?” Yoongi comments.

He’s bold. Bolder than you thought he would be. But he always does when he becomes horny, and you know your offer has made him hornier than you’ve seen him in a while.

Jungkook tears his gaze away from you, almost reluctantly. He seems to hesitate for a time, and if he hasn’t really caught up to the vibe, he sure has now.

“I’ve always told you your girlfriend is gorgeous”, he agrees.

Yoongi has a smirk playing on his lips, but he remains silent as you finish pouring the glasses. You grab one of them, taking a small sip of the burning liquid. You let it roll on your tongue before swallowing slowly. You keep your neck arched a little, just so Jungkook can see your throat work as you swallow.

He shifts on the couch a little, spreading his muscular thighs open.

“It tastes so good”, you purr.

Jungkook’s lips part open, and he catches a breath. “Does it?”

He’s always looked like the dominant kind. From the stories he’s told you both, you know he is. But if you want to really pleasure Yoongi tonight, you have to make sure you stay in control.

“Taste it yourself”, you say, wetting your lips as you slowly get up.

You keep the same glass you just drank in, and you walk around the coffee table to offer it to Jungkook. He glances at Yoongi as you do, and Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, smiling at his friend.

Jungkook grabs the glass you hand him. You don’t let it go right away, and you smirk as Jungkook looks up at you. He plays with his piercing, before offering you a dashing smile. You let go of the glass and watch him as he takes a sip.

He swallows just as well as you just did.

Your smirk turns satisfied, and you turn back around to grab the two other glasses. You give one to Yoongi, and then you sit next to him. Your boyfriend wraps an arm around your shoulder until you’ve molded yourself perfectly at his side. He moves your hair behind your shoulder, before kissing the spot on your neck over the collar of your shirt.

You tilt your head to the side, offering him better access as he sucks on the skin, and you never gaze away from Jungkook.

You’re pretty sure he hasn’t blinked in a few minutes now.

“We’ve been thinking”, you say as Yoongi presses a wet kiss on your neck before pulling away, observing the mark he put on your skin. “We have to thank you properly.”

Jungkook shifts a little again, and if you didn’t want to keep the eye contact you would look down at his lap to see if he’s already aroused. He bites at his piercing, and his gaze moves from you to Yoongi, before resting on you again. “A glass is plenty enough.”

You know he’s lying. His voice is husky, low. You’ve never heard him speaking like that before and it only makes you want him more.

Want him for Yoongi too.

“We can offer you a lot more”, Yoongi says. He shifts too, and you know he’s already hard. You decide to be bold, and you let your free hand fall to his lap. It rests on the top of his thigh, and you gently pat him.

“We sure can”, you echo. You wet your lips, though Jungkook is looking at where you’re touching Yoongi. You don’t miss the flash of envy that moves on his features. “If you want to.”

You’re not sure if he expected you to ask for explicit consent. He holds your gaze for a few seconds, before knocking back his glass and drinking the whole of it.

Anticipation builds up in your core as his dark eyes find your face again. He’s smirking, and it’s a dangerous look on his features. You’re pretty sure he can consume both you and Yoongi if he wants to.

“If I want what?”

He’s teasing. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, and it only burns brighter as your hand moves to Yoongi’s dick. You palm him through his jeans, and Yoongi rests his forehead against the back of your shoulder. Probably because he’s growing shy, and he’s afraid Jungkook is going to refuse.

“We could make you feel good”, you purr. You palm Yoongi harder. “Couldn’t we, baby?”

He moans against the back of your shoulder, and you let a dangerous smirk of your own move on your lips.

“Pretty sure that meant yes.”

Jungkook shifts. This time your eyes betray you and they fall to the bulge that has already appeared in his pants. He looks big, but you quickly move your gaze back up to his face.

“You guys want to fuck me?”

Jungkook is crude. You didn’t expect that from him, yet it suits him well. It suits his fuckboy persona far more than you thought it would. But it also explains why he’s been able to sleep around like that – he knows what he’s doing.

Yoongi looks up from your shoulder at that. He surprises you with his next words. “We want to show you how you’ve been good for us.”

Yoongi is not the dominant type. It happens, sometimes, and you didn’t think it’d come out when you’d be with Jungkook. You’re happy it has though, because Jungkook loses the dark look. It turns into want, unexpectedly, and it makes you understand one thing: he has a praise kink.

  “Such a good boy, who bought whiskey for us. Right, Yoons?”

Yoongi sinks his teeth into your shoulder. It takes you by surprise, and you let out a small moan. Jungkook watches carefully, putting his glass down on the coffee table. You drink from yours, never breaking eye contact, a little like you did earlier.

It works just as well, and you’re pretty sure Jungkook shifts purposefully closer to you. He’s not close enough for you to touch, but you can tell he wants it.

“You’re going to jerk him off in front of me?” he asks.

He’s figured out the dynamic of sex between you and Yoongi, hasn’t he? He knows you’re the dominant one, and something about it makes him want to dominate Yoongi with you.

Jungkook is right where you want him to be.

“I might”, you say innocently. “Would you like that?”

You cock your head to the side, and Yoongi goes back to sucking a mark on your skin. It makes your focus on Jungkook waver a little, and heat pools at your core.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to know for a time. He’s probably never been in a situation like that before. But he finds the strength to smirk, nodding once. “I wonder what kind of sounds hyung makes when he comes.”

Yoongi bucks his hips, searching for more friction. Jungkook is turning him on far quicker than you usually do.

“Then why don’t you help me get him out of his pants?”

The question takes Jungkook aback. He didn’t expect you’d want him to participate in pleasuring Yoongi, didn’t he?

He wets his lips, his tongue playing with his piercing for a time, before he replies. “I’m not sure what you want me to do.” He looks like he wants to please though.

“Why don’t you get on your knees in front of him?”

Jungkook’s mouth is parted. He doesn’t know what to do, but he watches you bite your lower lip, before nodding once again. While he positions himself, you take the glass of whiskey out of Yoongi’s hand, before putting it along with yours on the coffee table. It brings Jungkook very close to you and you freeze as he grabs your jaw. His face is inches away from yours when he says, “Can I at least kiss you before I suck his dick?” Because he knows that’s what you want. He understood as soon as you suggested him kneeling in front of Yoongi.

Yoongi’s breathing grows louder. Jungkook lets you turn your head towards your boyfriend. You make sure Yoongi is willing, cocking an eyebrow in question. He pats your back, sitting back on the couch to watch.

Your eyes trail back to Jungkook, and you see him swallow once as you close the distance between the two of you, one hand landing on the nape of his neck to bring him closer. He kisses you slower than you expected, and his piercing presses an indent into your lips. When he swipes at your bottom lip with his tongue, you open your mouth.

Jungkook is a good kisser. It takes you aback, and you moan in his mouth. The moan turns to a pained whimper when Yoongi grabs your hair and pulls you back.

“Enough”, he says.

You think he’s angry, but you only notice that he’s freed his dick from his pants while you were kissing Jungkook. And he’s slowly stroking it. For a second, you bite your lip, wanting to dive down and wrap your lips around his tip, but you resist.

The goal is to get Jungkook to suck his dick, not you.

Jungkook seems taken aback. He’s breathing heavily, lips parted as his eyes avoid Yoongi’s dick. He looks at your boyfriend’s thighs, at his face, but he clearly ignores the dick that’s standing prettily about a foot in front of his face.

“Don’t be shy”, you encourage him.

Jungkook blushes a little, and his eyes settle on you. “I’ve never done this before.”

The little bit of insecurity that shines on his face takes you by surprise. You gently cup his cheek, glancing back at Yoongi once before you focus on Jungkook.

“You’re so good at everything”, you praise. He swallows, listening to you intently. “Show me that you can be good at this too.”

When you pull him closer to Yoongi’s dick, Jungkook doesn’t resist. He follows your lead, until his mouth is but an inch away from your boyfriend’s cock. Yoongi is holding it up, and he’s watching Jungkook with round eyes.

You can tell he’s wanted this for a while by the bead of precum that sits on the slit.

“Why don’t you lick it first, mmh?” you encourage Jungkook. “So you can get a taste.”

He gulps, and his eyes flutter shut as he obeys. Yoongi sucks in a breath as Jungkook licks at his slit, hesitantly at first. But then he seems to steel himself, and he swirls his tongue around the tip of Yoongi’s dick once, then twice.

You can tell Yoongi’s aching to grab the back of Jungkook’s head so he can fuck his mouth by the way his grip on you tightens. It hurts a little, but you’re fascinated. You can’t look away as Jungkook wraps his lips around the head, sucking once.

Yoongi hisses, before letting out a low, “Shibal”.

You think the word is the hottest thing you’ve ever heard Yoongi say before.

“See, you make him feel so good already”, you praise Jungkook, and he lets out a small moan.

He likes it. That much you can tell. He really does, because one of his hands replaces Yoongi’s at the base of his dick. That frees your boyfriend’s hands, and it doesn’t take him long to pull you in a heated kiss that leaves you breathless. You suck on his tongue and swallow the moans he lets out as Jungkook starts bobbing his head up and down. Slowly at first, then finding a rhythm that seems to be comfortable.

Probably because Yoongi has moved one hand to Jungkook’s hair, and he’s guiding him down on his dick. It’s your turn to moan now, and you go back to kissing Yoongi.

He’s panting, trying to focus on your lips, but some part of you tells you he wants to look at Jungkook. So you pull away and sure enough Yoongi’s eyelids shoot open, and his gaze glues to where Jungkook is working on him.

Jungkook is holding your boyfriend’s cock up with his tattooed hand. His long fingers make Yoongi seem smaller than he looks in your own hand, but you know your boyfriend stretches you well enough. You already think about fucking yourself on his dick, using Jungkook’s spit as lube…

You need friction, and soon. You quickly shrug off the cotton dress shirt. Jungkook opens his eyes, and his gaze trails to you. He drinks you in as you palm one of your breasts through the lingerie. It makes you feel hot, even though he’s currently almost choking on your boyfriend’s dick.

Especially as Yoongi bucks his hips, and he hits the back of Jungkook’s throat. You’re surprised to hear Jungkook moan, and for a time you think it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve heard in your life.

You’ve unbuttoned your pants by the time Jungkook has blinked some tears away, and you’re pulling them down your legs when he sits back on his heels to catch his breath.

Yoongi is a mess. Head thrown back against the couch, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down each time he swallows or gulps. You’re pretty sure he could finish like that, but you want to give him more.

“You’re so good”, you praise Jungkook. “You could make him come like that.”

Jungkook slowly jerks Yoongi off while his eyes trace every curve of your body, as if you’re a piece of art he has yet to understand. He doesn’t seem like he wants Yoongi to come down his throat, and you’re not sure you can blame him. But still he looks at the two of you with fire in his gaze. He doesn’t want to stop either, and you watch him battle conflicted emotions for a time.

“But aren’t we supposed to be the ones making you feel good?” you add, offering him salvation.

“I feel good”, he admits, and he flushes deep red.

You smirk, playing with your tit again. You pinch your nipple through the fabric, brows almost touching as you let out a small moan. Jungkook has stopped jerking off Yoongi by now, and you look down at your boyfriend’s dick. He’s leaking precum, and you bite on your lip.

“Do you think I should suck him too?” you ask. Before Jungkook can reply, you turn your attention to Yoongi. He’s already looking at you through half-lidded eyes. “Will you be a good boy and not come down my throat, mmh?”

Yoongi doesn’t seem like he can even think coherent thoughts. Still he nods, mostly because he’s probably on the verge of an orgasm and he has no sanity left.

You look at Jungkook. He’s sat back on his heels, and he’s palming himself through his pants. The bulge has grown a lot more by now, and you weren’t wrong before: he clearly has a huge dick.

You salivate at the thought, knowing just how well it matches his large frame. You wonder if he tastes like your boyfriend. You’re not sure Yoongi would like you doing that; he’s shown a little possessiveness earlier when you were kissing Jungkook. So you focus on taking off your jeans for now. The fabric feels too tight against your skin, and you need them off before you start blowing Yoongi’s dick.

Jungkook watches you, as does your boyfriend. You’re stuck not really knowing what to do next. Because both men clearly want something from you. You’re surprised when Yoongi speaks up.

“Do you want to taste her too?” he asks.

Your eyes widen a little, and Jungkook gulps once. “If you don’t mind.”

“She’s got the sweetest taste, of course I don’t mind.”

You meet Yoongi’s gaze. You realize he’s doing this for you. He knows you find Jungkook attractive too, and he’s ready to give you what you want.

It makes you love him even more. So you go in for a kiss, kneeling next to Yoongi.

You startle when Jungkook slaps your ass. “Why don’t you get in a position where I can eat you out while you take my place at hyung’s dick, mmh?”

You almost forgot Jungkook is more on the dominant side too. If you weren’t already soaking through the lingerie, you know his words would have made you drip.

You obey him, mostly because you’re afraid Yoongi’s going to change his mind. But your boyfriend doesn’t seem like he will, and he offers you a sweet smile and a nod of his head to indicate that he wants this just as much as you do.

You stop hesitating. While you get on all fours, Yoongi finishes taking off his pants and underwear. His skin is red where the pants have been tight against his skin, and you massage his thighs mindlessly while Jungkook moves.

He takes off his shirt, and you’re pretty sure both you and Yoongi have frozen as he stands next to you, the hard planes of his body making both of you salivate. Jungkook works out a lot, and the results are satisfying, giving him a body you could spend hours admiring. He looks like a perfect Greek god, and you’re struck dumb. It doesn’t last long, because he quickly moves behind you, sitting on the couch until his face is at a level with your raised ass.

Before you have a chance to turn and focus on Yoongi’s dick, Jungkook bites in your ass, hard, and then sucks on the skin.        

He’s been dying to leave a mark on you too since he saw Yoongi do it, hasn’t he? It makes you moan, and as your pussy clenches around nothing, you grab Yoongi’s cock by the base to bring it up to your mouth. And you’re relentless, sucking him just how you know he likes it. You’re probably better than Jungkook, just because you know how to please Yoongi like the back of your hand, and his cock hardens in your mouth.

You know Yoongi could come just like that. But he told you he wouldn’t, and you trust him. So you give him your best, taking as much of him in as you can, keeping the gag reflex in as he hits the back of your throat. One of your hands starts playing with his balls, with just the right pressure, and you moan around his cock loudly when Jungkook cups your pussy through the lingerie set.

“She’s soaked”, he tells Yoongi.

Yoongi chuckles. “She’s probably dying to be fucked.”

Oh the little shit. Jungkook slaps your ass again, and it stings. “I assume you’ll be the one to fuck her.”

“Don’t think she can take both of us at the same time.”

Listening to them talk about fucking you like that is making you forget what you’re supposed to do. You make to pull away, but then someone holds your head in place.

“We didn’t say you could stop.”

It’s Jungkook. And as he holds you down, Yoongi starts fucking up in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. If you weren’t busy choking around the dick in your mouth, you’d hear the sound of kissing.

Indeed, Yoongi pulled Jungkook into a kiss, and surprisingly enough Jungkook didn’t resist. No, he’s been enjoying this far more than he expected he would.

You blink back tears as Yoongi keeps hitting the back of your throat. It’s not your first time doing something like this, though Yoongi is usually softer with you. It seems bringing Jungkook into the action has changed him, because he’s relentless, fucking your mouth hard.

You don’t care. Not a single bit, because Jungkook has pulled the lingerie set to the side, just enough for two of his long fingers to start drawing circles on your clit. You moan, and the sound is echoed by a grunt from Yoongi.

“You’re two messes”, Jungkook says as he dips his fingers inside of you up to the first knuckle. He’s collecting your juice, and a second later he’s back to drawing quick circles on your clit. “Begging to be fucked by me.”

The moan Yoongi lets out this time is higher pitched. More like a whine, and you choke around his dick as he thrusts up hard. You would pull away if you didn’t know Jungkook is going to force you back down. Right now, you want him to pleasure you, and you move back a little, seeking for friction on his hand.

He pulls the hand away, before slapping your pussy hard. You whine around Yoongi’s cock, and your boyfriend grabs a handful of your hair. You can imagine him, with his head thrown back on the couch. Not knowing where to look between you and Jungkook. And apart from the light touch of his fingers on your clit, you don’t know what Jungkook is doing. Is he touching himself, or is he watching Yoongi? Is he discovering he might like this more than he expected, or is he searching for a way out?

“Should I get her ready for us, hyung?”

The little brat. You know your boyfriend will feel intimidated by having to dominate you with someone else. But still, Yoongi says, “You sucked my dick, it’s only fair I let you fuck my girl”.            

You’re not sure if it’s fair. But thinking about Jungkook fucking you with Yoongi… it makes you go haywire. You dig your nails in Yoongi’s thigh, where you’ve been holding yourself up for a moment after you stopped playing with his balls. He hisses in pain, but you’re swirling your tongue around his tip, playing with his frenulum just the way he likes.

Jungkook is silent for a time. He moves his fingers from your clit to your entrance, circling it once to collect more juice. But then instead of moving back down to your clit, he moves up, and your pussy clenches as his fingers play with the circle of muscle of your asshole.

“Have you ever been fucked by two guys at the same time?” he asks. You don’t know if he wants an answer, so you keep sucking your boyfriend. Jungkook slaps your ass again, and his fingers go back to your clit.

You understand his question was rhetorical when something very wet replaces his fingers on your ass. His tongue. He uses it to play with the ring of muscle, even going all the way as to dip his tongue inside. You want to reach back and touch him, but you can’t let go of your boyfriend.

Not when Yoongi is using your mouth like this.

The fingers Jungkook has been using on your clit move back to your entrance once again. This time, he dips them in, deep, without a moment of hesitation. You clench around him and he spreads the fingers, fighting against your walls. This time, you pull away to moan, face falling on your boyfriend’s stomach as you jerk him off quickly, holding his dick tight in your grip.

Yoongi’s shirt is clinging to him, sweaty from the action. Though he’s mostly just been benefiting from what you and Jungkook do, you know his heart has been beating out of his chest. You raise your head to look at him, but he’s busy looking at Jungkook. It makes you glance back, and you think you could almost come watching Jungkook work on you like that.

Jungkook has his eyes closed, brows knit together as if he’s in deep focus. You can only see the top of his face from where he’s eating your ass, and his fingers make squelching sounds as they fuck into your pussy.

You’re so wet you’re almost convinced you could take both of the men in your pussy. The thought makes you moan, a pornographic sound that makes Jungkook’s eyes open. He pulls away, and he slaps your ass as you just stare at him.

“Why are you not sucking hyung anymore?” he asks, cocking his head to the side as he observes you with that dark lustful gaze of his. “You can’t focus?”

As he says the words, he fucks his fingers harder into you, and the knuckles of his other fingers almost hurt as they hit the soft flesh on both sides of your pussy. You can tell you’ll be sore once Jungkook is done with you. Once Yoongi is done with you too.

Your nails once again dig in Yoongi’s thigh, and he quickly grabs your hand to move it away. He puts it back on his balls, and you massage gently, not wanting to hurt him. You try to straighten, but Jungkook puts a hand on the top of your back, shoving you down towards your boyfriend’s dick.

“Be a good girl and suck him, baby, he’s been so good to us both.”

You obey, and your tongue is back on Yoongi in no time, tasting the salty precum that keeps leaking from his cock. Jungkook laps at your hole once again, and it’s a new feeling. You’ve never done that before, but he knows what he’s doing. So much so that you’re barely surprised when he dips his thumb in your ass, pushing hard against the tight ring of muscle until your hole has swallowed all of his digit.

You could come soon. You’re pretty sure if you focus just for a few seconds, you’ll be coming all around Jungkook’s fingers. But you don’t want to come just yet, you want to enjoy every little jolt of electricity Jungkook pulls from you.

Maybe your lack of attention on Yoongi has given him back his thoughts, because your boyfriend grabs one of your breasts in his large hand, his grip tight. You reward him by swallowing his dick whole, letting your throat work around his head.

You’re becoming more wet with every movement of Jungkook’s fingers inside of you. So much so that he adds a third one with ease, stretching you wide open. You don’t even know who he’s trying to get you ready for: Yoongi, or himself?

You don’t care. You want both of them to fuck you.

But you want a little control too, you want to know what’s happening. As Jungkook fucks his digits inside of you, you pull away from Yoongi’s cock.

“Jungkook, why don’t you finish undressing?”

He stops moving, probably not expecting you to still be vocal. But he obeys you, mostly because his dick has been straining against his pants for a while. You can’t imagine it being comfortable.

While he undresses, you climb on Yoongi’s lap, your back facing him. You grab his dick, holding it up long enough so you can sink onto it, and you moan breathlessly as you go as far deep as you can, until all of him is gripped in all of you. You clench around him, and his large hands find your waist as he grunts.

And while you’re fucking yourself on Yoongi, you turn to look at Jungkook. He’s even more beautiful than you imagined he’d be: his cock is huge, definitely larger than your boyfriend. You almost think you won’t be able to take him in, but something about the way he smiles devilishly tells you he knows how to get you all ready for him. His dick has a large vein that goes from the base all the way to the tip. You want to run your tongue on it, but he’s sitting a little too far again, muscular thighs spread wide as he strokes his cock lazily.

His eyes follow you as you move up and down on Yoongi, and your boyfriend’s fingers dig in the supple flesh on your hips as he guides you on himself. But when Yoongi moans again, you don’t miss the way Jungkook’s eyes dart to him, his grip around his dick tightening as he starts going faster.

“You like it, mmh?” you tease him, regaining his attention.

Jungkook plays with his piercing, his head resting against the couch as he watches you.

“You could suck my clit while I fuck myself on Yoongi.”

Your suggestion is barely out of your mouth before Jungkook gets up. His dick stands proud and tall, and you look back at Yoongi to see him already drinking in the sight. He fucks into you then, and you slow down so he can use you however he wants.

Jungkook jerks himself off, gently, making his way towards you. He stands in front of you, and you can’t help but look down at his dick. At the large head, that shines red as precum appears on his slit. Your eyes trail up to his face, and the smirk on his lips tell you enough of what he wants.

He wants you to choke on his dick. But he understood something too, earlier when you asked Yoongi for permission.

“Hyung, can I fuck her mouth?”

Yoongi moans loudly as your mouth falls open.

“Say it with your words.” Jungkook is indecent. You’re pretty sure he’d tie the both of you up and use you both however he wanted if you let him.

“As long as she likes it”, Yoongi replies breathlessly. He slows down his movements into you, but he pulls you lower, until all of his dick is sheathed inside of you. He then circles his hips, and it makes him reach places unknown to you before. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you moan loudly.

The moan is interrupted by two digits sitting on your tongue. Your eyes shoot open, and you instinctively close your mouth around the fingers, sucking once. Jungkook cocks his head to the side as you start playing with the pad of his digits, hollowing your cheeks as you suck another time.

“You really want to suck my dick, don’t you?”

You do. You also want to see Yoongi sucking his dick, but you’re not sure the position allows it. So you nod, keeping Jungkook’s fingers in your mouth for as long as he allows before he’s grabbing the back of your head, dragging you closer to his cock.

You resist a little, just because you want to be a little brat, and Jungkook slaps your cheek with his cock once.

“Open up your throat.”

His words convey a command you’re wired to give in too. No matter how much you like to dominate, you’re not sure you have it in you to disobey him when he speaks the words with such a husky voice.

So you open your mouth, and you let him move your head until he can thrust into your mouth. He’s big. Large. It hurts your jaw a little, and your eyes water as he reaches the back of your throat faster than you thought he would. It doesn’t deter him, and he pulls almost all the way out before thrusting in again.

Below you, Yoongi is still circling his hips, and he grunts as you clench your walls around him, instinctively. Your juice is dripping down his balls, tickling him, and he has the clear image of Jungkook licking him clean. He almost wants to ask, but he’s too shy. All he can do is fuck you as he listens to you choking on Jungkook’s dick.

Jungkook fucks your mouth another couple of times before he lets go of the back of your head, moving your hair to the side to reveal your neck. He caresses it with one long finger, and you take the lead, grabbing a hold of his dick as you swallow once, your throat tightening against him.

The sound he lets out makes you think you’ve reached nirvana. It also makes Yoongi fuck up into you, and though he’s already hitting your cervix, you almost think he’s gotten deeper.

You offer Jungkook’s cock the same care you offered Yoongi’s earlier. You suck him dry, licking up at his head to taste his precum. It tastes a little different than Yoongi’s. A little sweeter, and you think you could get drunk off of it. It’s addictive, and all you can do is swallow as much of him as you can, hollowing your cheeks around him.

You try to look up at him, but the position doesn’t really allow him. You’re bent and you’d have to stop sucking his dick to be able to turn your head enough to look at him. You can’t resist the impulse though, and you hold his dick with one hand as you pull away, licking down his length, with your head tilted to the side until you can look up at him.

He’s not looking at you. His head is thrown back, revealing a sharp jawline that could cut through glass. You can’t resist yourself, and you let your teeth graze the sensitive skin of his dick.

He looks down so fast you almost think he gets whiplash. Instead, he just surveys you with a dark dangerous look on his features. It makes you add your own movements to Yoongi’s action, and your boyfriend’s grip on your hips tightens even more.

“I thought you were supposed to suck my clit”, you tell Jungkook, maintaining eye contact as you tap his dick on the side of your face, tongue darting out until you’ve found the frenulum.

He seems angry, towering over you like that. You’ve seen him eating good food enough before to know that that’s because he’s enjoying himself. “When you can suck my dick like that?”

You pull away, and surprisingly enough he lets you go. You start moving up and down on Yoongi again, cocking your head to the side. “But poor Yoongi is barely getting any action.”

Jungkook looks at your boyfriend. You’re not sure he’ll understand what you want, but a few seconds later he drops to his knees.

“Maybe he just needs me to suck on his balls, don’t you think?”

You moan, almost in time as Yoongi. Jungkook is bold. Crazy, even. You lose a hand in his hair as he dives in. He stops by your clit first, sucking it hard. It makes you clench around the cock spearing you, earning you a grunt from your boyfriend. He’s rock hard inside of you, and you’re pretty sure it’s taking all of his will not to come.

He suddenly straightens and wraps an arm around your middle as Jungkook moves lower. You assume Jungkook sucked on one of his balls, and Yoongi lets out a low string of curses that makes a knot tighten in your core.

You’re far from being ready to let it uncoil. But you can tell Yoongi will come if Jungkook keeps doing whatever he’s doing.

“Yoons, you think you can hold on a little longer for us?” you purr.

His forehead is resting on the back of your shoulder, so you feel it when he nods. But he has no words for you, just a broken string of moans that form a melody in your ears as you keep moving up and down. You taunt him, clenching your walls once, and the moans turn into a hiss.

“Never thought hyung was such a good boy”, Jungkook says as he pulls away. He’s got spit on his chin and your hand moves from his hair to his chin so you can dry it.

And instead of letting it air dry, you bring your thumb to your mouth, licking it dry. Jungkook just watches you carefully, and then he’s moving back to your clit.

The next few minutes are lost to you. The orgasm that hits you takes you by surprise, almost bringing Yoongi down with you. But he’s better than you, and he just forces you to still your movements as your walls pulse against his dick.

Jungkook is too skilled with his tongue. Flicking your clit in a way that makes you see stars, until they’ve exploded and you’re just left panting for dear life.

“You ask him not to come and then you just do?” Jungkook teases. “How unfair.”

He stands, licking his lip dry. You’re spent, head thrown back and resting against your boyfriend’s shoulder. Yoongi is still holding you, one of his hands palming your breast through your lingerie set.

You’re pretty sure it’s ruined at this point. Jungkook bends down, and to your surprise he steals a kiss on your boyfriend’s lips. Yoongi moans in his mouth, and while they kiss Jungkook’s hand sneaks under you. He finds the place where the lingerie is attached, and quickly releases it.

You turn your head, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek. Jungkook must have sensed it, because a second later he’s meeting your lips. You can still taste a little bit of yourself on him, though you know Yoongi lapped most of it clean.

“Let’s get her out of this”, Jungkook says as he pulls away.

Yoongi obeys, and he pulls the lingerie set over your head, until your breasts are finally revealed. Your nipples are perked on your chest, hardened by the pleasure that just ran to you. Your boyfriend palms them as Jungkook watches, and he’s back to stroking his dick.

You reach out, and your hand finds his balls as he pleasures himself. He tilts his head to the side, but he lets you do as you want. You’re weak from the orgasm that just rocked through you, and Jungkook looks as if he’s coated in an aura.

You know it’s the ecstasy from you coming so hard, but some part of you want to believe he’s a fallen angel.

As you palm him, Jungkook’s gaze slides to Yoongi’s next to you. Yoongi wets his lips, and his eyes drop to his friend’s dick.

“You want to get a taste?”

Really, Jungkook is not familiar with sanity. He doesn’t care for it, only wants to ruin the both of you. You’re forced to let go of his balls as he moves until he’s got one knee resting on the armrest of the couch. He holds his dick up towards Yoongi, and you let out a slow whimper as Yoongi wraps his lips around Jungkook’s large head.

You realize then that Yoongi probably has had lots of experience with men before you came into his life, because he clearly knows what he’s doing. Jungkook looks almost pained, brows touching on his forehead as his mouth falls open. He’s panting after a few seconds, and his eyes fall on you.

“Fuck”, he curses. “I don’t know which of you sucks best.”

From the moans he lets out next, you’re pretty sure it’s Yoongi. But you don’t care, you’re too busy circling your hips so Yoongi’s cock reaches every little spot in you that can make you see stars.

Jungkook observes you. You think he’s been watching you more than Yoongi. And as Yoongi bobs his head up and down, taking more of Jungkook’s cock than you ever could, the younger man bends down and presses his lips against yours.

The kiss is sweet and slow. With no tongue, just his lips working against yours. His are infinitely soft, and you moan in his mouth. He keeps on kissing you, to a slow and steady rhythm that almost aches.

You miss him as soon as he straightens. But you don’t miss the way his gaze hardens as he holds yours. He looks sad, for just a fleeting moment. The next moment the look is gone, replaced by a lustful expression.

“Fuck”, Jungkook says, and he looks away from you to meet Yoongi’s gaze as your boyfriend keeps sucking him. “I want to get the chance to fuck her before I come.”

Yoongi whines, and he reluctantly pulls away from Jungkook’s cock. The latter refuses to meet your gaze anymore, and he motions to the couch.

“Hyung, why don’t you lie down?” he says.

You clench your jaw, before getting up from Yoongi’s lap. Your pussy clenches around nothing for the first time in a while, and you stand next to Jungkook as Yoongi moves. You startle as Jungkook slaps your ass, hard.

“Do you think your asshole is ready to take him?”

He meets your gaze now. He’s about to drag you to hell with him, and you admit you should be scared. Somehow, you aren’t, and you just want him to use you the way that he wants.

“I don’t know”, you whisper.

“Bend down”, he orders.

You nod, facing the couch until your chest is pressed against the back rest. You hold yourself up with a knee propped on the side of the couch, and your eyes turn to Yoongi. He’s holding his dick, jerking off slower than his usual. Probably because he’s already too close to coming.

You jerk forward as Jungkook lands another slap to your ass. It stings, and he parts your cheeks to reveal your asshole to him again. One of his hands moves between your legs, collecting your juice as he dips two fingers inside of you again. Once he thinks his digits to be lubricated enough, Jungkook pulls out and moves them to your asshole. He seems to hesitate for a time, and you bite your lips as you hear him spit, and the blob of saliva lands on your hole a second later.

Only then does Jungkook push his fingers inside your ass. He fingers it slowly, with scissoring motions that make your legs tremble, but you hold on strong. You keep holding Yoongi’s gaze for as long as you can, but when Jungkook adds a third finger, you lose the battle against your drooping eyelids.

The feeling is foreign. It doesn’t feel as good as when he was fingering your pussy earlier. Yet it makes you clench your pussy around nothing, makes clear juice collect around the entrance again, until you’re dripping on Yoongi under you.

Jungkook starts going faster, and when he slaps your ass with his free hand you moan loudly, hiding your face in the couch cushion. You wince when Jungkook pulls you by the hair, forcing you to look at Yoongi again.

“Look at him”, he commands. “You’re going to have his cock deep inside your ass soon.”

Yoongi is jerking himself faster than before when you finally are able to open your eyes. His jaw is clenched hard, and you can see a vein popping in his neck. You reach between the two of you, and he lets you grab his dick, though you only offer him a slow job as you’re too weak from Jungkook’s ministrations.

Jungkook takes that as a cue to pull his fingers out of your ass.

“Sit on him.”

You’re slow to obey. Yoongi sits up a little to help you, and a moment later you sit on him reverse-cowgirl style. You look up at Jungkook, waiting for his next order, but surprisingly enough Yoongi acts on his own. He angles his dick with your ass, moving it between your cheeks twice before settling it against the ring of muscle.

You wait for Jungkook to give you permission, and when he nods you sink down on Yoongi.

His dick is far bigger than Jungkook’s three fingers. It hurts a little more, even though Yoongi took the time to use his spit as lube before he aligned his dick with your ass. You wince, but you refuse to close your eyes, holding Jungkook’s gaze until Yoongi is deep inside of you.

“What a fucking pretty picture”, Jungkook murmurs.

Yoongi lies back down, bringing you with him. He puts his feet up on the couch, to give himself leverage so he can slowly move in and out of your ass. Never fully leaving you empty, but always keeping a steady rhythm. The initial discomfort slowly melts into pleasure, and your hand moves between your legs, until you’re drawing circles on your clit.

Jungkook surveys you for a moment before he decides to join the fun. It’s a little awkward at first, as he positions himself, but soon enough he’s kneeling between both your legs and Yoongi’s. He spits in his hand, rubbing his palm on the head of his dick for a few seconds as his eyes fall to the spot where Yoongi is slowly fucking you. He must like what he sees, because his features turn hungry.

He’s going to wreck you.

Jungkook positions himself at your entrance. He uses his dick to rub on your clit a few times, and you bite down on your lip as he does it. It feels good, better than you thought it would, but you’re pretty sure that’s just because Yoongi is still fucking your ass, and your body is craving for more. Jungkook’s features soften as he meets your gaze, but when he starts pushing in, your eyes shut.          

It hurts. A lot. Yoongi stills inside of you as you let out a pained sound. Jungkook gives you a moment to adjust, and then he’s pushing in a little more. The tip is fully in by the time he stops again, and you’re panting as Yoongi holds you tight to his chest. He runs a soothing hand on your side, and you take a deep breath to try and relax.

You startle when a hand cups your cheek, making your eyes fly open. It’s Jungkook, and he makes sure you’re looking at him, solely focused on his gaze, before he finishes thrusting in.

You weren’t wrong. He’s enormous inside of you. Way bigger than Yoongi. But you don’t know if the feeling is confused because Yoongi’s dick is still up your ass. You feel so full you think you might explode. Jungkook gently runs his thumb on your cheek, and you take a deep breath in time with him. You slowly breathe it out, and the ache between your legs slowly changes.

It still hurts, but not as much, and you nod slowly to indicate to Jungkook that you’re ready. He’s gentle as he pulls out, before thrusting all the way in once again. You moan, and everything clenches around the two dicks. Yoongi tightens his hold on your middle, fingers digging in your ribs. He’s probably going to come without even having to move, his body succumbing to all the edging you and Jungkook gave him.

It takes a moment for your pussy to adjust. But it eventually does. Jungkook sees the change in you, and he grabs your waist carefully as he gets ready to pound into you. He’s not quite ready to do it yet though.

“Hyung, why don’t you fill her ass with your come?” he says. “You like it, uh? When I fuck into her like that?”

Yoongi curses again. “Yes.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s willing for you to come now”, Jungkook continues.

You nod. “Please come for me, baby.”

Jungkook clenches his jaw at the pet name, but his eyes roll to the back of his head as Yoongi starts moving again. And then Jungkook is thrusting in you, in synch with Yoongi, and all you can focus on is the spot between your legs. The two cocks spearing you, fucking into you relentlessly until you’re on the verge of another orgasm.

You’re a moaning mess. Both men also moan their share, being vocal in their pleasure. Yoongi is the first one to reach his high between the three of you. He stills deep inside of you, releasing his hot seed in your ass as Jungkook keeps fucking into you. The latter must see you’re on the verge of coming undone too, because he reaches between your bodies, until his thumb is rubbing on your clit.

You come next, painting Yoongi’s pelvic white as his come drips from your ass. You don’t remember when he pulled out, but the feeling joined with Jungkook’s thumb brought you to your orgasm, and it hits you with a renewed intensity. It blurs your vision, turning it fully white, and there’s ringing in your ears when you finally fall from the high.

Jungkook hasn’t come yet. He waits until you’re looking at him again, and his hand wraps around your throat as he leans forward, just to hit a better angle for himself. And then he’s coming too, ropes and ropes of his seed that he plants deep inside of you, barely even slowing his rhythm. He milks his orgasm inside of you, with knitted brows and his teeth digging in his lower lip. It almost looks painful, and you reach up to pull his lip free of his teeth.

Only then does he still inside of you, though his dick twitches a few times again before it finally rests too.

There’s nothing but the sound of breathing for a time. From Yoongi beneath you and Jungkook above you. Your own breath is ragged, and you’re not sure you have blinked since Jungkook has come. Your eyes are lost in his, and you drink in the emotions that pass in his gaze.

You wonder if it’s regret that makes him pull away until all you can watch is his profile as he sits on the other side of the couch. You feel his seed roll down your pussy, sliding over your sensitive hole until it drips on Yoongi, mixing with his own come.

It’s sinful. What you did tonight is sinful, and your body is already sore from it. But as Yoongi presses a kiss on the back of your shoulder, you know you would do it all again.

It takes a moment before Yoongi lets you go. He always holds you after you’ve done the deed. It’s something that’s always been important to the two of you. But it feels a little unfair today, because Jungkook is sitting on his side of the couch and he looks infinitely lonely over there. So you sit up, moving off of Yoongi until he can sit up too.

“Do you guys want a glass of water?” you ask.

“Please”, Jungkook answers, and Yoongi nods once when you meet his gaze.

You get up from the couch with shaky legs, and you wince as you feel more come roll down your thighs. You bend down to grab Yoongi’s shirt, pulling it over your head, and then you’re off to clean yourself and grab water for the two men.

When you come back from your trip to the bathroom and the kitchen, you’re hit with the smell of sex that clings to the living room. You’d open the windows right away if you didn’t know how cold it is outside, so you instead move to the boys to offer them their glasses.

Both of them have put their pants back on, and Jungkook is holding his shirt in his lap, looking at it with a troubled expression. If they have talked while you were gone, they’re now completely silent.

“Here”, you say as you hand the glasses.

Yoongi grabs his and gulps it down in long sips, while Jungkook barely looks up at his before taking it. It takes him a few seconds before he’s drinking, and you turn your head away from his pretty features to look at your boyfriend instead.

Yoongi is already looking at you. He offers you a loving smile, the one he reserves just for you. It makes you smile too, filling your chest with warmth as you move towards him, until you’re sitting on his lap with your arms wrapped around his neck. Jungkook takes that as a cue to put his shirt on, and he sighs heavily before glancing at the two of you.

“Didn’t expect this would ever happen in my life”, he admits, and a tired smile moves on his lips.

If you hadn’t seen the troubled expression on his features a moment ago, you would almost think Jungkook is happy and satisfied at the moment. The latter might be true, but there’s sadness surrounding Jungkook. Something you don’t think you’re supposed to be the one to fix.

“Thank you”, Yoongi says.

You turn your head to look at him, as Jungkook lets out a small laugh. “Anytime, hyung.”

“Both for the whiskey and the sex”, Yoongi adds as a joke, and this time Jungkook’s laugh rings truer.

You talk a little, letting the afterglow of the sex carry you through a conversation about everything and nothing. You partake in it, though you’re getting tired. The two orgasms that those men pulled out of you are taking their toll on you, and soon enough, you’re yawning with your head resting against Yoongi’s shoulder.

Jungkook chuckles. “I’ll take that as a cue that I should go.” He gets up, stretching lazily. His shirt hikes up a little to reveal a sliver of his skin, and you feel hot all over again at the thought that you had sex with him.

Jeon Jungkook just manhandled both you and Yoongi as if it’s nothing to him.

You follow him up, walking to the door with him. Yoongi walks behind you, his fingers finding your hand and holding it gently as you lean against the wall in the hall. You watch as Jungkook puts his shoes on, before grabbing his biker helmet that he left next to the door.

“So”, he breathes out, and a small chuckle follows the word. “I’ll see you two around?”

He’s looking at you as he says the words. You offer him a small smile. “I hope you didn’t think you’d get rid of us so easily.”

The unease that has seemed to be clinging to Jungkook slides away, replaced by relief. Did he think you were going to drop your friendship with him?

“Of course not”, he denies. “Even if tonight was unexpected…” he trails off.

“It was fun?” Yoongi provides.

Jungkook nods his head, and his eyes flit to Yoongi besides you. “We should do it again.”

Yoongi’s fingers tighten around yours, the only indication that he would want it too. But he’s letting you choose what to reply.

A smirk casts a mischievous look on your features, and you barely hesitate before saying, “Let’s meet up again sometime next week”.

Teaser | Next

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Ooooooooof yeah. That was... yeah. I’m sorry for sinning so hard haha but thank you for coming down to hell with me :’) I’m wondering, will you guys like seeing more of this couple/throuple?? If so, please let me know by following this link! Also, don’t be afraid to leave feedback, it’s always appreciated!!

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@chimchimmarie | @pamzn​ | @the-boy-meets-evil​ | @sugarwithtea​

[palmettoshenanigans]

You know what I want?

Well I'm getting ahead of myself already. You know what I like?

I like those fics where someone says something untoward about Andrew (usually about his character, usually in reference to violence, and sometimes in reference to be worried about Neil's domestic safety) and Neil just,,, immediately starts tango-ing with his instinct to commit violence (sometimes an immediate 'oh. i gotta kill them now' or 'they mean well and also don't understand, don't kill them don't kill them don't-').

I also like those fics where Neil confronts his ability to be violent, but in a way that contains too much willingness and not enough shame, thus triggering his Wesninski Prodigal Son Issues (best when it's because his violence comes from either survival instincts or protective instincts - 'better them over me/my family').

With that in mind, you know what I want? I want a post-canon fic that is a big character study on Neil's capacity for fatal violence vs his desire to preserve life. First half of the fic being the tragic "Am I really my father's son?" angst where the person who keeps helping him through it is Andrew. Probably someone said something Quite Accurate But In Bad Faith about Neil in the media, which gathered attention, and it hit home harder than anticipated and now Neil is spiraling.

Do this a few times, Rule Of Threes and all that.

Then have a scene where Andrew does some violence (someone says something sexual about anyone under Andrew's umbrella of 'I care about this person but don't tell anyone I said that') and Neil stops him from doing something *clears throat* Not Great When Caught On Camera, and as a consequence someone expresses something about Andrew.

And Neil? Responds accordingly. Very Wesninski coded (I refrain from saying Nathaniel coded because that one fic somewhere on my pinned post convinced me that Nathaniel was never a cold blooded violent type - that was never his purpose. Nathaniel takes hits and survives them, he gets cut and makes sure he doesn't bleed out, he gets cornered and finds an out to run through. Nathaniel was never a predator, he was always prey, and that's why Nathan always saw him as a failure because Wesninski's were always supposed to be Apex Predators- but i digress)

Cue Neil unrepentantly embracing being Very Very Scary and later Andrew asks him how that little show is holding up with his issues. Neil shrugs and spouts some unintentionally romantic shit about not letting shit slide in regards to besmirching Andrew's character in front of his face. Cue Andrew saying something about 'Wesninski's would never commit violence out of protective affection. Only a Josten would do that.'

and suddenly Neil's spiraling is over via the power of Realizing Things, there's some banter about letting each other fight their own battles, Andrew says he hates him, questions get whispered and yeses get exchanged and lips get locked and other things get extracurricularly activitied-

Yea, that's what I want

[booksandabeer]

Ramblings on Fandom: Peggy Carter, Steve Rogers, Delusional Shippers, and Alleged Misogyny

So with the release of Season 2 of What If…? emotions are once again running high, the outrage is outraging, and people are up in arms about the whole Captain Carter situation. While I do think that some reactions are a little overblown, even needlessly aggressive in tone to the unfortunate detriment of their otherwise convincing arguments, I share the confusion and frustration about the sudden centering of a long-dead & never excessively popular character, the sidelining of the Steve-Bucky friendship, and the as-inexplicable-as-it-is-total exclusion of Sam Wilson as Captain America. However, I’m not here to talk about the show because (1) I haven’t watched this season and have no plans to (why waste time torturing myself with something I know I’ll hate?) and (2) other people have already written dozens of metas about it, so what could I possibly add at this point.

What I do want need to talk about (lest I explode) is something that has irritated me for a long time and that is now happening again: Every time someone even mildly criticizes Peggy Carter, expresses doubts about her suitability as a heroine, or even just questions her disproportionate importance to the franchise post-EG, inevitably a certain section of fans will come out of the woodwork to immediately throw around accusations of misogyny and yell about how we’re all just a bunch of delusional Stuckies who are mad that she got "in the way" of our ship. Sigh.

This is gonna be a long one, so I’ll put it under a cut. Rant incoming. You've been warned. If you don't want to read, simply keep scrolling.

First of all, let me state very clearly that I’m not debating the existence of misogyny and sexism in fandom spaces—or in the media from which these fandoms originate. At all. It exists, it’s a thing, I’m not denying that. Which is exactly why it frustrates me endlessly to see these accusations thrown around as a gotcha! argument to shut down any and all critical debate around a female character. All it does in the end is escalate rhetoric and radicalize attitudes.  

In the case of Peggy Carter, specifically her treatment by Stucky shippers, I’ve always found 'misogyny as a motive' to be a largely unsubstantiated accusation.¹ Now, I neither presume nor do I want to speak for the entirety of Stuckynation, so I will not claim that there aren't corners of the fandom where people discuss her in ways that I find off-putting and deeply unserious, but I will say this: If you genuinely believe that disliking one (1) fictional female character equals “hating all women” and wanting to suppress and marginalize their presence in fiction and real life alike—then I think we need to take that word away from you until you’ve learned its true meaning.

You might also want to ask yourself how exactly reducing a female character to a mute trophy wife or a heroine who has to act out her love interest’s recycled storylines helps your feminist fight.

As for the “getting in the way of your ship” part of the argument. Very simply put: No character can get in the way of something if there never ever was “a way” to that something to begin with. “Being mad” implies that there was a reasonable expectation that wasn’t met, a substantive hope that was crushed. Now, I’ve said this before and I’ll gladly say it again a million more times: No Stucky shipper in their right mind ever truly thought that there was even the slightest chance that Marvel Studios owned by the Walt Disney Company would allow Steve “Captain America” Rogers and Bucky “Winter Soldier” Barnes to be canonized as an explicitly romantic pairing in their billion dollar franchise. Be serious. That was never in the cards. I wish we all lived in a world where it was, but we don’t, and it wasn’t. The best we could ever hope for was for Steve and Bucky to get a good, satisfying, in-character ending. And if, in Steve’s case, that would’ve included hints (or more) about a possible rekindling of his, uh, aborted romance with Sharon—then so be it. But we never got any of that. The characters never got any of that. Instead they sent Steve into 1950s suburban hell, literally trapped him behind a white picket fence, and condemned him to a life of passivity and lies, all so he could be married to a woman he barely knew a long time ago in a completely different world; who built and ran a top-to-bottom Hydra-infested organization, but apparently never noticed that there was anything wrong with her life's work. For decades. Great. As for Bucky—well, we’ve all seen the devastatingly grim-faced, utterly lonely, and deeply sad version of him that was presented to us in TFATWS. Happy endings all around, I guess.

So. Am I mad that Steve didn’t get to ride into the rainbow-colored sunset with Bucky at the end of EG? No. Because that was never going to happen anyway. Would I have been mad had he ended up with Sharon or another female character in the 21st century? Also no. Granted, I wouldn’t have been ecstatic about it, but mad? No. But am I mad that Steve ended up with this specific female character under these specific circumstances as presented in canon? Fuck yeah, I am.

The thing is: I personally believe Steve and Peggy to be fundamentally incompatible when it comes to the way they view the world and their respective places in it; their morals and values; their capacity for compassion and empathy; their ability and willingness to compartmentalize, compromise, and collaborate with people and institutions whose ethics and/or politics do not align with their own. I have a real hard time believing that a relationship between these two (or worse, a hasty marriage) could be either happy or long-lasting.

I don’t believe Peggy to be inherently evil, I don’t hate her, I simply think she operates within a different moral framework than Steve (and even genuinely believes it to be a righteous one).² Your mileage may vary, but I personally happen to find that framework reprehensible, even indecent, and ultimately dangerous. After all, over the course of the 20th century, we have seen exactly where that kind of “the ends justify the means” brand of pragmatism leads—over and over again. Not to mention that the people who use this line of argument to defend characters like Peggy (or real-life politicians for that matter) never seem to want to look too closely at who gets to define what "the ends" are in the first place and who decides when they've finally been met.

(Never. The answer is never.)

And to be clear, there is absolutely nothing wrong with depicting, and even centering a narrative around a morally (dark)gray character—oftentimes it’s actually the more interesting option—but you cannot at the same time claim that they are purely good and should be only admired as such when their actions literally tell an entirely different story.

So, no. I will not accept Peggy Carter as the shining aspirational heroine that the MCU so badly wants to sell her to me as—while simultaneously continuing to reveal things that paint an increasingly darker picture of her character. And I will certainly not celebrate seeing one of my favorite characters of all time—whose defining trait was that he couldn't ignore "a situation pointed south"; who used to fight for the little guy and against the establishment; who once said about the very organization that Peggy Carter helped build that it was so corrupt, it all needed to go—rendered morally inert for some hollow happy ending that may as well be a conservative’s wet dream full of false nostalgia for an America that never really existed. I cannot find it in me to be anything less but mad about that.

But that does not make me a misogynist. It does not make me a delusional shipper. It makes me someone who looks at what the MCU has been telling me about Peggy Carter for years now—over and over again—and takes it at its own word.

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¹ If you’ve actually read a a fair number of Stucky(!) fanfics you will have noticed that the reverence afforded to and "page time" devoted to her character and her relationship with Steve is somewhat disproportionate to anything that's backed up by canon—well, up until EG, where she was suddenly reanimated as The Great Love of Steve’s Life—and in my experience, it's highly unusual for any fandom to put so much (mostly) positive attention on another character, let alone a potential love interest that is not part of the endgame ship.

² I also want to emphasize that if you love Peggy and she's your fave: good for you! I genuinely have no beef with you. People can agree to disagree. All I ask for is that we maybe stop willfully ignoring the less savory aspects of her character. You don't need to pretend she's perfect to justify your affection for her. I LOVE Steve, and yet I have no problem conceding that he is FAR from perfect.