#like I said I'm not that big on shipping as If it wasn't clear enough by this too long rant

[winxanity-ii]

BIG FAT MEANY

ship: stepbro!megumi x fem!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (p in v, fingering, dub-con); overbearing/possessive brother (aged up: reader and megumi are in early 20s) word count: 4.5k (lololo forgive me y'all got a bit carried away with the storybuilding 💀 promise this won't happen all the time jajaja ) A/N: Hey guys, just wanted to let you know that i'm reposting this from my alt account, lulu-4-u in case you've seen this posted before... ★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You weren't a hateful person. Not at all.

In fact, you were practically a ball of sunshine—inside and out.

You loved everything.

It was the simple things in life that made your heart flutter: the moon on a clear night, the smell of fresh rain, lazy afternoons spent with your friends from college, and, of course, your family.

Especially the love between your mom and stepdad, Toji.

He came into you and your mom's life at a time when things were pretty dark—your dad had been having an affair with his secretary, and your mom was left heartbroken. But then, when you were fifteen, Toji walked into the picture, and everything changed for the better.

Out of all the things you cherished, though, there was one thing—one person—you absolutely hated.

Your stepbrother, Fushiguro Megumi.

You hated how mean he was to you.

How he always managed to push your buttons.

How he treated you like a child, even though you were only a year younger than him.

And what you hated the most?

How pushy he got when things didn't go his way.

"Megumi, I said stop!" you whined, pushing at his annoyingly close chest.

Your mind could only race, trying to piece together exactly how you ended up in this predicament.

The night had started simply enough. It was a Friday—date night for your mom and Toji, which meant the house was practically dead.

Normally, you would've just stayed at your dorm, but tonight was different. Your dormmates had been all over you about some party happening on campus, trying to drag you along, but you weren't in the mood.

You'd barely been able to dodge their constant nagging, so instead of getting sucked into something you didn’t want to do, you decided to come home.

A weekend in your room sounded a lot better than getting roped into a night of drinking and chaos.

But instead of holing up and rotting away in your room, Megumi had caught you on your way upstairs. He'd asked—well, more like insisted—if you wanted to watch a movie with him.

It had been a little out of the ordinary, but you shrugged and went along with it, thinking it'd be a decent way to pass the time. And for a while, it had been fine. You both settled on the couch, watching the newest Scream movie.

Until now.

"Megumi, what's your problem? It's just Yuji..." you finally managed, voice small as you sat up properly on the couch, trying to put some distance between the two of you.

"My problem?" he repeated, scoffing like you'd just said something ridiculous. "My problem is you acting like you don't know what’s going on. That picture—he sent it to you for a reason. But you're sitting here like it’s no big deal."

Your brow furrowed, hurt blooming in your chest at what he was insinuating.

You hated it when Megumi got like this—sharp-tongued, confrontational, like everything you did somehow annoyed him.

And this time? It was all over a damn picture...

It wasn't even a big deal, honestly.

You and Yuji were just chatting as always when among the messages he sent a picture of himself fresh out of soccer practice.

You could vividly recall the boyish grin plastered across his face, eyes bright with his usual warmth.

But it wasn't just the smile that caught your attention.

His shirt, the one you knew had probably been soaked with sweat from practice, was pulled halfway up, wiping at his forehead. It casually exposed the lean muscles of his abdomen, glistening faintly from practice.

He hadn't done it on purpose—he probably didn't even think twice about sending it knowing him—but the way his body looked in the picture was enough to make your face burn upon seeing it.

But apparently, what wasn't a big deal to you, was to Megumi...

"Is he your boyfriend or something?" he demanded, glaring down at you. "Yuji, I mean. Is that why you're all flustered? Because he sent you some half-naked picture and now you’re freaking out like some lovesick idiot?"

"What are we, twelve?" you scoffed, crossing your arms and turning your body away from him, your tone sharp. "For your information, it's none of your business what Yuji is to me. We're in college, Megumi. I don't owe you any explanations."

You could feel the heat rise to your face again, but this time it wasn't just from the embarrassment. It was the fact that he felt like he had any right to badger you about this.

He wasn't your parent, your guardian—hell, he wasn't even a friend half the time with the way he acted.

"Why do you even care?" you muttered under your breath, more to yourself than to him. "You're always like this. Sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."

You didn't see the way his jaw clenched or how his gaze sharpened at your words. You were too focused on staring at the wall, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling in your chest.

You stood up abruptly, ready to head back to your room, away from his snappy attitude.

But just as you turned, a large hand wrapped around your wrist, halting your steps.

You froze, looking over your shoulder to see Megumi. He was staring up at you through his dark hair, head tilted slightly, a burning look in his eyes that made your heart race in a way you didn't like. His grip was firm but not painful—just enough to keep you there.

"Megumi, let go," you huffed, your lips pouting as your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. You gave a light tug on your arm, but his hand didn't budge.

He didn't say anything, just kept staring at you, his expression unreadable. That silence—his stubborn, infuriating silence—only made your frustration build.

Why did he have to be like this?

"I said let go!" you repeated, yanking on your arm harder this time, but his grip tightened. You felt a hot flash of anger rise in your chest.

"If you don't—" you started, your voice trembling with frustration, "I'm gonna tell Mom and Toji when they get home."

His eyes flickered for a second, and just as the words left your mouth, he scoffed, standing up in one smooth motion, his form towering over yours.

You could feel the heat of him, the intensity of his presence making you instinctively take a small step back.

"What?" he sneered, his voice low and mocking. "You're gonna tell them that you're whoring around?"

You gasped, your eyes going wide in shock, heart slamming in your chest. "What the hell, Megumi? Why would you—?" you started, but the words barely made it past your lips before he cut you off, stepping even closer, his voice quick and biting.

Megumi stepped even closer, his body towering over yours as he stared down at you through his dark lashes, his voice dropping into something almost mocking.

"Or are you gonna run to Toji?" he taunted, his lips curling into a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine. "I bet you'd like that, huh? Telling him how mean I'm being to you... like some helpless little girl."

Your breath hitched, your back pressing against the wall as he closed the space between you, his presence overwhelming.

You felt cornered, heat rising to your cheeks in a way you couldn’t control. His words, the way he looked at you—it all left you speechless.

You hated that he had this effect on you, hated the way he made your pulse race, not just from anger but something deeper, something you couldn't quite place.

Megumi leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Or maybe you like it when I'm mean to you. Is that it? You're always whining, but you never tell them, do you? Why's that?"

You cleared your throat, trying to steady yourself, your eyes darting off to the side to avoid the intensity of his gaze. "B-because," you stammered, voice barely above a whisper, your cheeks still burning hot.

"Because what?"

You swallowed hard, finally meeting his eyes, though the way he was looking down at you made your heart pound even harder. "Because… you're my big brother..."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt silly for even uttering them. You expected him to laugh, to scoff at you like he always did, but instead, his expression didn't change. If anything, something darker flickered in his eyes as he leaned even closer, his breath hot against your skin.

"Is that what you tell yourself?" he asked quietly, his voice low and almost dangerous. "That it's just because I'm your big brother?" He tilted his head slightly, still staring down at you, his eyes narrowing just a bit. "You sure that's it?"

You could feel the heat rushing to your face again, heart pounding painfully in your chest as you struggled to find words, any words, to push him away.

Your mind raced, and though you wanted to focus on the anger bubbling up, a different thought crept in, unwanted but undeniable.

Megumi was attractive.

Like, really, really attractive.

You hated to admit it, but standing there, inches from him, it was impossible to ignore. He towered over you, standing at least six feet tall, his broad shoulders filling out the plain black t-shirt he wore.

You could see the faint outline of his muscles beneath the fabric, the way his chest rose and fell with every breath, the strong line of his jaw clenched in irritation.

His dark hair fell over his forehead in that effortless way it always did, messy but somehow perfect, framing his sharp, intense features.

And those eyes—Gods, those eyes.

Even though they were currently glaring down at you with frustration, you couldn't deny the pull they had. Dark, stormy, and filled with an intensity that made it hard to hold his gaze for long.

They were the kind of eyes that could make anyone feel small, vulnerable, and you hated how they always managed to affect you.

Your breath hitched as you let yourself take him in for just a moment too long, your body betraying you with a sharp jolt of attraction. But no—no.

You weren't going to go there.

This was Megumi, your stepbrother, and as good as he looked, he was being a complete asshole right now.

You shook your head quickly, trying to rid yourself of the thought. Stop it. Stop thinking like that.

Clearing your throat, you took a deep breath and straightened up, attempting to put on your most serious face, even though your heart was still hammering in your chest.

"Look, 'Gumi," you began, your voice sounding steadier than you felt, using the nickname you had given him years ago. It rolled off your tongue easily, a little too familiar for the situation at hand, but you needed something to ground yourself. "I'm not sure what’s wrong. And I'm sorry if I did anything to make you upset, but you have got to stop this..."

You trailed off, knowing full well what the 'this' was. And deep down, Megumi knew too.

It wasn't just about Yuji, or any other guy, really. It was him.

It was how he acted—how he always got so weirdly possessive, so jealous, whenever another guy so much as talked to you.

You didn't even have to be interested in them; the mere mention of someone else was enough to set him off.

You'd seen it countless times. The sharp glares, the biting comments, the way his jaw would tighten at the mention of a boy's name.

It was always the same, this constant undercurrent of envy and jealousy that never made sense, and it wasn't just a protective brother thing.

No, it was something else.

Something darker.

Something you weren't ready to acknowledge.

Megumi's jaw clenched, and for a second, you thought he was going to say something or maybe even do something.

You braced yourself, heart racing with both frustration and something you didn't want to name.

But instead, he let go of your wrist, taking a step back.

"Fine…" he muttered, his voice low and almost too calm. "You're right, and I'm sorry."

You blinked, momentarily thrown off. Megumi? Apologizing?

He never apologized to you, not like this. Usually, he'd just brush you off, act like whatever happened didn't matter or somehow turn it back on you. But now, here he was, actually acknowledging his behavior.

It felt strange, and you weren't quite sure how to respond.

"Uh, well, um, thank you…" you mumbled, still processing.

It didn't feel real, this sudden shift. But before you could dwell on it for too long, you turned to leave again, ready to retreat to the safety of your room where you could put distance between yourself and this confusing experience.

But just as you began to walk away, you felt it again—his hand, firm around your wrist.

He wasn't letting go.

"Where's my apology?" he asked, his tone unsettlingly calm.

"Huh?" you responded, confused by the sudden demand. Your brain barely had time to catch up with the words before Megumi yanked you forward, pulling you off balance.

You stumbled, instinctively putting your hands up to steady yourself, but you ended up falling into his chest instead. "Oof!"

Your hands pressed against the solid warmth of him, trying to create some space, but Megumi's arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close.

The heat from his body seeped into yours, making it impossible to ignore how solid and overwhelming he felt against you.

"Megumi—" you started, breathless, but the rest of your sentence was cut off as he brought his lips close to your ear, his voice soft and commanding.

"Shush…" he murmured, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Let's just finish the movie."

With that, he pulled you back down onto the couch next to him, his arm still wrapped around your waist, keeping you tethered to his side. You were practically sitting on his lap, his arm still holding you close, and your mind was spinning, trying to wrap itself around what was happening.

The movie played in the background, but you couldn't focus on anything except the heavy tension in the room and the warmth of his body pressing against yours.

As you tried to shift away, to put some space between you, Megumi's voice pierced through the room, low and deliberate. "You know," he began, his hand dropping lower, his fingers brushing the inner corner of your thigh. "I just realized something… we never got to bond." He emphasized the word by gripping your thigh, his touch firm and intentional.

Your breath hitched at the contact, and your mind blanked for a second, overwhelmed by how sudden and intense his presence felt. "I-I mean, we still can," you stuttered, trying to defuse the situation, trying to keep this from going wherever it was heading.

But the way Megumi's face pulled into a wicked smirk, the sharp gleam in his eyes, made your stomach drop. He leaned in closer, licking his lips as he watched your reaction, his grip tightening slightly on your leg.

The air around you felt thick, it was as if everything had narrowed down to just this—his gaze, his hands on you, the heat of his body so close to yours.

Before you could even think of moving again, Megumi's hand suddenly gripped your jaw, his fingers firm against your skin as he turned your face toward him.

His touch was possessive, controlling, and it sent a wave of something through you—part fear, part something darker that you didn't want to name.

"C'mon, look at me," he said, his voice a low murmur as he scooted even closer, towering over you now. He tilted your head back slightly, forcing you to meet his eyes, and even if you wanted to pull away, you couldn't.

His grip was too strong, too sure.

Megumi watched your reaction closely, his smirk growing as he tilted his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. "What's wrong? You don't wanna play with your big brother?" The way he said it, his voice dripping with a mock sweetness, sent shivers down your spine, and your heart pounded painfully in your chest.

"G-Gumi, the movie…" you stammered, trying to deflect, to push him away with your words, but it was no use.

You knew nothing good was going to come from this.

He just chuckled softly, his fingers gripping your jaw a little tighter as he leaned even closer, his breath hot against your skin. "Forget the movie," he muttered, his voice taking on that dangerous edge again.

Before you could react, Megumi grabbed both of your wrists, pinning them to your side with one hand.

You were startled by how effortlessly he did it—his arms didn't even bulge, as if it was nothing for him to hold you down like this. Your heart raced even faster, panic starting to creep in as you realized how strong he really was.

You tried to squirm, to pull away, but Megumi didn't budge. His grip on you was firm, almost casual, like he was barely putting in any effort to keep you trapped against him.

Megumi tutted at you, a soft noise that somehow felt condescending, as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "The movie's still there, silly," he hummed, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.

You could feel him nosing along the contours of your neck, his presence overwhelming every one of your senses.

"Let's just play a game until the commercials are over, yeah?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing, as if this were all some harmless joke to him.

"A-A game?" you stuttered, your mind struggling to keep up with what was happening. Your body felt frozen in place, your instincts screaming at you to move, to get away, but the grip he had on your wrists, the way he held you down so effortlessly, made it impossible.

"Yeah…" he whispered, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of your neck. "Let's play… who can last the longest."

The words didn't even fully register before you felt the sudden force of him pushing you back against the sofa.

An involuntary "oomph" escaped your lips as your back hit the cushions, and your vision blurred for a second as you stared up at the ceiling, heart pounding in your ears.

Before you could gather your thoughts, Megumi was hovering above you, his body blocking out everything else. His dark eyes raked over your face, taking in every flicker of emotion you couldn't hide, every sign of the fear and confusion coursing through you.

He didn't move, not yet, but the weight of his gaze pinned you in place as effectively as his body did.

There was something in his expression—an intensity that made your chest tighten, made it hard to breathe, and you couldn't help but feel like you were already losing whatever game this was.

Megumi let out a deep chuckle, the sound reverberating in your chest, his breath hot against your ear. "Don't worry," he murmured, his tongue flicking out to lick the curve of your ear, making you shiver. "I'll go easy on you… for now."

"Megumi—" you started, your cry cut off as his hand cupped your jaw, and he slammed his lips onto yours, his movements forceful and possessive.

Heat shot through your body, shivers running down your spine as his tongue invaded your mouth like a man starving. It was overwhelming, the way he kissed you—demanding, fierce, leaving no room for resistance.

You whimpered against his mouth, the noise muffled by the way his lips devoured yours. His hands wandered along your body, gripping, grabbing, squeezing any part of you he could find.

The pressure of his touch was firm, almost bruising, and with every place his hands explored, your body responded with an involuntary jolt of heat.

Your breath hitched as he hooked his hands under your legs, pulling them up and around his waist, his hips jolting forward into yours. The movement sent a rush of sensation through you.

You managed to tear your lips from his, gasping for air as your chest heaved. "M-Megumi, stop…" you whined, your voice trembling, your head falling back as you tried to make sense of what was happening, what he was doing to you.

He didn't stop. Instead, he groaned low in his throat, his lips finding your neck. He licked and bit along the sensitive skin there, the rough scrape of his teeth making you shiver even as you tried to push the sensation away.

Your mind was at war with itself—one part of you frothing, screaming, fight him, get him away, the panic clawing at your chest.

But the other side—the darker part, the one that you didn’t want to admit was there—was keening, practically begging for more of his attention, for more of this twisted game.

And Megumi, as if sensing the battle raging inside of you, just smiled against your skin, biting down a little harder, leaving a mark you knew wouldn't fade anytime soon.

Megumi pulled back slightly, making a deliberate show of licking his lips as he panted above you, his eyes dark and focused. "C'mon, lil sis," he murmured, rocking his hips into yours in a slow, rough rhythm that made your breath catch in your throat. "The game can't start until you're ready."

Your body betrayed you as you watched him put a hand between your bodies, his fingers easily slipping into the confines of your sleeping shorts. "Ohhh, looks like you really wanna play, huh?" he taunted, his voice laced with smugness as his fingers rubbed up and down your wet slit.

A wave of shame washed over you, your thighs twitching with the instinct to close, to shut them and stop what was happening, but his frame kept them wide open.

You couldn't escape the heat pooling low in your stomach, no matter how hard you tried to fight it. A choked whine left your mouth, your back arching involuntarily when he slipped a finger inside.

Megumi let out a groan, low and rumbling, as if he was savoring the sensation. "Damn…" he muttered under his breath, cursing softly as he felt your walls constrict around his finger. His thumb brushed over your clit, making your whole body jerk, and when he added a second finger, the fight in you began to crumble.

His fingers were relentless, rubbing and probing with a skill that left you breathless. Your legs, which had tried to resist, opened wider for him, your body moving of its own accord.

Megumi hummed in approval, a light chuckle escaping his lips as he muttered, "Good girl." The words sent a rush of conflicting emotions through you—humiliation, desire, confusion—but you couldn't stop the way your body responded to him.

And before you knew it, you came. Babbled whimpers fell from your lips as the coil within you snapped, your body shaking with the force of it.

By the time you came down from the high, Megumi had already pulled back, sitting on his haunches as he dropped your legs.

You curled your legs up to your body, watching as he began to untie his drawstring sweats, his eyes still locked on you with that same wicked smirk.

You looked away just as you caught a glimpse of the dark trail of hair peeking out from his waistband, heart pounding in your chest.

At this point, you had accepted what was about to happen, and your mind raced as you braced yourself.

Megumi crawled back over you, his hands tugging at your shorts, and you barely registered the feeling as he discarded them over his shoulder. One of your legs was pulled back around his waist, the heat of his skin pressing against yours.

His body hovered over yours, and you felt him nudge your entrance with the tip of his dick, sliding it up and down along your slit.

A shiver ran through you as you struggled to keep your thoughts clear, but it was impossible under the weight of him, both physically and mentally.

"Fuck," he groaned to himself, eyes locked on where your bodies were beginning to connect.

Your breathing grew shallow, your heart racing uncontrollably, knowing that whatever came next, there was no turning back.

Megumi filled you in one swift movement, stealing your breath away. You cried out, the sound a mix of pleasure and pain echoing through the room. His groan was long and guttural, reverberating in the space between you.

Megumi's rhythm was steady, each thrust sending a jolt of shock of pleasure through your body.

It felt surreal—part of you couldn't believe you were letting this happen, but the undeniable pleasure clouded every coherent thought.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, the intensity of it all overwhelming your senses.

"That's right," Megumi grunted, his breath hot against your ear. "Take all of me."

You couldn't form words, your mind spinning, too overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you.

Instead, all you could do was moan and whimper, your body moving with his, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room. His hand snaked up to your throat, gripping lightly as he maintained a relentless pace.

"You like that, don't you? You like the way big brother fucks you?" he growled, his voice harsh and demanding, his thrusts becoming even more intense.

Your mind reeled, unable to speak, only nodding frantically in response as the pleasure built inside you. You could feel the pressure mounting, an orgasm threatening to wash over you as your body tensed beneath him.

Megumi seemed to notice, his hands hiking your legs up higher, deepening the angle, each movement more brutal and precise than the last.

You lay there, body writhing beneath his as he fucked you like a ragdoll, and a dark part of you couldn't help but thrill in the way he took control. His voice filled your ear with praise, breathless murmurs of "you're doing so good for me," and other words that barely registered through the haze, as if he were drunk off the feeling of you clamped around him.

Soon, his tempo shifted, becoming erratic, his grip on your hips tightening as his low moans became uncontrollable.

The intensity built until you felt warmth spreading inside you, the realization hitting you that he was coming, his release flooding your senses.

The throbbing between you two blurred together, until yours faded, and you could still feel him twitching, even as everything else calmed.

Eventually, he slowed, both of you panting, the room thick with the aftermath. You winced when he finally pulled out, a shiver running through you as you felt the hot liquid seeping out.

Megumi stood to grab cleaning supplies, gently wiping you off, his touch softer now, though still lingering in the tension of what had just occurred.

And as you lay there, watching him, all you could think was, What the fuck just happened?

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

The sleeping thing and the crater (pt.2)

Or "Something made a hole in my backyard pt. 2"

Shadow the hedgehog x reader (platonic)

Notes: I need a title for this story, Ideas anybody? If you want to be added to the taglist leave a comment 🌺🌼💗 Hope you enjoy!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You needed a vet. The thing wasn't waking up, it was breathing and it's skin was warm, so it was definitely still alive. Unfortunately, alive didn't mean well, and whatever it was that was lying on your bed was not well.

You had brought... It (he? she? Did it even matter?) inside the house and laid it on a bed you had made inside a cardboard box with cushions and an old blanket. You wish you could tell whether the creature was cold or not, it worried you that it would feel uncomfortable and take longer to heal.

Once everything was settled on your bedroom you moved on to what could be considered your greatest plan.

Step 1: The backyard Issue.

Grabbing your phone you dialed your parents number.

It was around 8 am already, so the sun was up in the sky already and if the sun was up, your parents would most likely also be, even if they were all the way across the state.

Unsurprisingly for you your mother's voice was the first thing that came out of the speaker. She sounded worried sick, as any mother would be after the sky seemed like it had exploded.

"But you are alright? Oh, I was so worried, it was absolutely crazy!" She nearly screamed into the phone.

"I know mum, I saw it" you trailed off while walking circles around the kitchen.

"So nothing bad happened to you?" She asked. Again. For the fifth time.

"No,no, I'm fine..." You said, not sure how to really approach the subject.

"But?"

"But I think something from that ship thingy fell into our backyard... And made, a little hole... Which is rather big... And it kind of looks like a crater"

...

...

"WHAT??" Now that made you pull your phone away from your ear.

Luckily for you it seemed that she was still more worried about your well-being than her backyard. So that was settled .

Step 2: The other Issue.

You needed a vet, that much was clear. But it couldn't just be anybody. It had to be someone you could trust, someone who would keep their cool and that trusted you enough to not tell anyone else what they saw.

And you happened to know just the right person.

"Me and your father will be right back home as fast as possible, you can't be on your own after all of this"

"Mom please, I'm twenty years old, I think I can take care of myself" you answered, and trying to not show your smile through your voice you finished by saying "But! If you feel so strongly about me being left on my own I could always go visit my uncle..." There was silence for a few seconds, so you decided to continue

"That way you and dad won't have to cut your trip short either"

That seemed to do the trick as you heard shushed voices on the other endo of the line.

"Alright" It was now your father talking "We'll book you a flight to Green Hills, let your uncle Tom know you're visiting".

Taglist: @boogiemansbitch

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

"Your mother dreamt of catching fish again." Your brother Autumn said as he walked with you towards the little café near your apartment for brunch. "She's saying that you're pregnant."

You scoffed and turned up your nose, giving him the meanest side eye. If your hangover wasn't so bad, you'd roll your eyes at your superstitious mom. "The ceiling of the veranda is haint blue and she poured a whole box of salt in front of your ex's door to trap her."

Autumn hummed and nodded along, "This is true, but she's hoping and praying you at least get married first."

"Well," you stop in front of the Café door and wait for him to open the door, "My birth control is doing it big, so I don't need to worry."

"So you did take that mohawk guy home last night?" He said as you both entered, "Did you at least take a plan B?"

"My beloved brother, I ate the plan B like a tictac. I am F.N.F, and I'm at the start of my hottest girl summer ever, England edition." You laugh, "I don't have time for babies right now."

Miss Vanta presents: He Canceled Hot Girl Summer.

mdni18+

13 months later...|

Johnny was almost certain that the last year of his life was a fucking nightmare. Him and his team had spent most of that year in safe houses, surviving off MREs, and just generally being somewhere in unhospitable climates and enemy territory. Now that he's been on home soil for a week and Kate has granted them extended leave to pull their lives back together, he couldn't be happier. After catching up on sleep for five days straight, he began his Saturday morning pestering Kyle, John, and Simon into hitting the bar to get as drunk as possible, and maybe just maybe convince a pretty bonnie lass to let him go home with her.

He ended up being successful, and that's how he ended up in a booth, watching a group of women laugh and talk. It was clear that they were pre-gaming, taking pictures and videos, drinking shot after shot of liquor. They were the type of women he went for, lively, sassy, fun, and flirty. It reminded him of the last time a year ago that he was in this bar before being shipped out for the year in hell. He remembers it clearly, a pretty brown girl, long wavy black hair, long pretty nails with glittering gem stones gripping his hair, begging for mercy.

She was a good lay. She sucked his dick like it was the last thing she'd ever get to do, made him keep eye contact with her, and those full lips of hers were soft. When he fucked her, she fucked him back. Some of the things out of her mouth were enough to make him blush, honestly.

"Fuck this pussy like you hate me Johnny." She begged him when he had her bent in half. "Spit in my mouth." And he did. It was a first for him, but when he watched her swallow, the imagery went straight to his dick and made him impossibly hard.

"Fuck" He had groaned as she rode him, his face was pressed into her neck and he bit down hard. "This pussy is mine, fu- fuck jus' 'ike tha," and when he couldn't take it any more he rolled her over and fucked into her with the purpose of making her cum, so he could feel her bear down on him and squeeze him tightly. The sounds she made stayed with him. Each groan, curse, the sound of her pussy the wet 'pap pap pap' of each thrust. She had come so many times that there was a creamy ring around the base of his dick. She scratched him on the back, bit his earlobe, and kissed him deeply. It was downright nasty, all tongue and the clash of teeth, the need to be fucked and to fuck. It was like the coming of two people driven solely on the base instincts to mark and claim each other.

So when she told him, "Make me a cream pie and eat it out of me." He did. He came hard with an animalistic growl. His balls pulsing hard, and his dick flushed red and overly sensitive. After he ate his cum from her swollen and slick pussy she kissed him slurping all of it out of his mouth and swallowing.

The next morning, before the sun was even up, he snuck out of her place. He felt bad, but he had to get back to base so he could leave. Part of him wished he left his number or even his snap chat, but he was out of time, and he didn't want Simon or Captain yelling at him for being late.

"Soap, you good?" Kyle asked, "You've been staring at that table of birds for the last five minutes."

Johnny blinked a few times. He was really lost in thought for a good minute. "Nae, 'm fine."

One of the girls at the table kept looking at him, and she would lean over and talk the other two girls at the table. It looked like they were talking about him and his team, probably going on about who was going to get who in bed. He could go for a fun night cap and sex, maybe even a fling since he was going to be on leave for a bit.

The table of girls erupts into a bunch of shouting and wild gestures. They aren't really speaking English, but it sorta sounds like English but jibberish, too. The girl who is dressed in powder blue with blonde hair stands up and turns to look at Johnny full-on. The girl dressed in black is trying to pull her back into her seat, but powder blue is already marching across the bar towards them.

"Oh boy," Kyle mumbles, "Soap she's looking right at you."

"She's certainly a spit fire." John says, pausing his conversation about updates on his own personal life. He had been saying that his own wife would be back home tomorrow from visiting the States.

Powder blue stopped in front of the table, her hands on her hips. "You're that guy from a year ago!" She shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "You ruined my friend's hot girl summer and then just dipped! No number, no Instagram, not even a Facebook message or a whatsapp or a snap chat!"

Johnny squinted his eyes, "I'm sorry, wha?" This girl was crazy. He didn't even recognize her.

The girl in the black had rushed over, doing her best to pull powder blue away, "Aaliyah, what if this isn't even the right guy?"

"It is him! I remember the stupid mohawk she liked, and look at that hair color! It's the exact same as Omari!"

Kyle chokes on his laughter at the mohawk jab and tries to diffuse the situation, "Ladies, I'm sure there's no need to cause a scene."

Powder blue, who is now known as Aaliyah, huffed and shoved her phone into Johnny's face, "Do you remember this girl?"

He squinted his eyes, "I really don't remember much from a year ago as I was drunk around this time." He looked at the picture and was confronted by that pretty brown girl that turned him out.

It was an Instagram photo of him drinking a body shot off her. Kyle was in the picture, his face buried in the chest of the girl who he recognized as the one standing with Aaliyah. That part of the night was hazy at best, absolutely blackout at worst. Aaliyah then yanked the phone away from him and swiped furiously before finding what she was looking for. The next picture he saw was of his pretty brown girl, posted up in a hospital bed holding a bairn that had his hair and was a perfect mix between his own skin tone and his mother's.

Johnny felt like he was going to be sick to his stomach. "Wha 'm I lookin' at?"

Aaliyah crosses her arms, "Your son Omari Malachi Knights. A year ago, you ruined my best friend's hot girl summer."

The world felt like it was spinning, and Johnny suddenly didn't feel like drinking anymore. His stomach was queasy, and he could distantly hear Gaz, John and Simon trying to figure out what exactly was being said. He tasted bile in his mouth and leaned over and threw up on Aaliyah's open toed shoes.

Fuck

A/N: Special thanks to @evergreenlake cause we are writing secret child tropes together! Go check out hers called "And fate was on his side." it features Price x Reader. I'm gonna try doing comedy with this trope because it seems like it would fit with Johnny.

F.N.F means fuck n*gga free it's a song by Glorilla.

Reader comes from a superstitious southern family. She's living in England with her brother Autumn.

Series Master list

[glossdebut]

take a bite | MYG ★ 5

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you’re finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off… Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You’ve accepted the fact that romance isn’t for you, under any circumstances. You won’t risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you’ll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: SMUT, sexting, i guess a little bit of exhibitionism? not really but if we're splitting hairs, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, COMPLICATED FEELINGS! MEN NAMED KEVIN! YIJEONG?????

✧ WORDCOUNT: 7.4k (jesus christ)

✧ STATUS: complete

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: TAKE A BITE 5 IS HERE!!!!!!!!! this chapter was ALMOST written in a planet fitness, but it wasn't. this chapter is also almost ENTIRELY smut, but the smut is important to the plot so leave me alone! i'm sorry to inform those of you that wanted more of yoongi's brain that this chapter is entirely reader pov, but there's a reason for that and i promise yoongi will be back before this story is complete <3

CH. 5: I Think I Need Your Help

Next time can’t come soon enough.

Since Friday night, you’ve been alternating between being super proud of yourself for being direct and asking for what you want, and being equally repulsed by yourself for the way getting what you want has made you act. 

You’ve seen Yoongi once since the night in his studio, when he was coming home after pulling an all-nighter and you were on your way out to work, like two goddamn ships passing in the night.

You were in that barely functional state post-waking up where you were shocked you were even able to get your shoes on the correct feet before walking out the door, and the mere sight of him in a short-sleeved white t-shirt had you pausing where you stood and taking a looooong look. You’re that desperate. 

And he knows it, too. Exhausted as he looked, your blatant staring didn’t go unnoticed. Mercifully, though, Yoongi didn’t say anything. Just shook his head at you knowingly, smirking to himself as he pushed his front door open and stepped inside, presumably to go crash for a few hours.

You thought, foolishly, that a byproduct of your friends-with-benefits arrangement would be an ability to relax, loosen up a little bit so you’re able to be more productive during office hours. Don’t people say that about sex? That it clears the head? Well, those people have clearly never had Min Yoongi’s head between their legs.

You are decidedly not clear headed. You are wired, wanting, finding yourself zoning out in the middle of newsroom meetings thinking about Yoongi’s hands spreading your thighs, his lips wrapped around your clit, the way he groaned into your pussy. It’s fucking distracting.

You’ve never been like this before with anyone you’ve slept with. Sex with your ex had been good, even great sometimes, but you never really thought about it until it was happening. With Yoongi, you can’t seem to think about anything else.

Meanwhile, Yoongi has been busy, on a completely different sleep schedule from you all week. He’d given you fair warning before you left his studio Friday night, wobbly-legged and fucked out. He’s working on a very important track for an upcoming artist’s debut album, he’d told you. It’s due at the end of the day Friday, and he probably won’t have time for any… extracurriculars until it’s done. 

No big deal, you’d said! Dumb bitch.

It doesn’t help in the slightest that, as you’d hoped, nothing has really changed between you and Yoongi, aside from occasional suggestive texts (mostly initiated by your horny ass!!!!!!) exchanged throughout the day, sprinkled within normal conversation. No, Yoongi has continued to be himself: sweet, considerate, kind of nerdy. Sending you links to articles he finds interesting, or funny videos, or songs that he’s had on repeat. It is driving you insane.

On Thursday afternoon, you snap.

You open your phone on your lunch break to find that Yoongi has sent you not one, not two, but three devastatingly cute cat videos, and has provided his own commentary on them.

So, obviously, you text back with what you think is the only appropriate response to that kind of behavior. 

[12:14] You: i am begging you to put your cock inside me before i lose my mind

It is by far the most direct you’ve been since Friday night, far exceeding the coy flirtation you usually go for. You place your phone face-down on your desk with a shaky hand, staring down at your sad little salad. Lunch seems impossible now, what with your heartbeat thrumming in your ears and all.

Your phone buzzes not even a minute later, twice. Which stands to reason. You wanted Yoongi’s attention, and now you’ve got it. You take a deep breath through your nose and turn your phone back over.

[12:15] Yoongi: You’re begging, huh?

[12:15] Yoongi: You’re at work, baby. Can’t focus? Need it that bad?

Um. Yes, yes you do. And the way that you can practically hear his voice right now, in your ear, teasing. Fuck. Not helping.

You pick up your phone, hiding yourself behind the monitor at your desk so nobody in the office can see how flushed you’ve become all of a sudden. You’re on your lunch, and they should mind their damn business.

[12:16] You: yes

[12:17] Yoongi: You know I can’t help you until I’m done with my track.

That’s pretty much the response you expected, but you can’t help feeling frustrated about it anyway. He can’t take a break for an hour? You’d even settle for thirty minutes!

[12:18] You: i think you can and you’re just making me wait to be an asshole

[12:18] You: which is really dumb because i can just come to your studio tonight when i get off of work and you can take a break

[12:19] You: let me ride you in your chair

[12:19] You: fuck. you don’t even have to stop working yoongi

You’re acting desperate, you know that. You know how you sound. But you are desperate, can’t help it. Yoongi opened the floodgates to over three years of pent-up sexual frustration with his stupid tongue, and now it’s his fucking responsibility to deal with it.

You watch as the bubble pops up to indicate that he’s typing, and then disappears, then reappears again. Ha. Maybe you actually got him.

[12:22] Yoongi: If you think calling me names is gonna get you what you want, you’ve got another thing coming.

[12:22] Yoongi: You can come to the studio tonight if you really want to. But I can guarantee that you’re not getting my cock.

[12:23] Yoongi: Except maybe in that fucking mouth to give it something better to do than complain.

Holy shit maybe not!

[12:23] You: oh my god

You had a feeling, of course, that Yoongi liked being in control, that he liked to guide. He had coaxed your desires out of you so sweetly Friday night, letting you tell him what you wanted, but how he did it was his choice. But this is more than guiding. He’s telling you what’s going to happen if you come over. You shift in your chair, your thighs clenching.

[12:24] Yoongi: Hey. Tell me if this is okay, Y/N.

You can practically hear the words in his voice, soft, like when he asked you to stay when Seokjin came over to cook. The stark difference between this and the texts immediately before are almost enough to make your head spin. He’s giving you an out if you’re not into this. But you are into it.

[12:24] You: yeah

[12:24] You: yes. it’s okay

[12:25] Yoongi: I need you to tell me if I say or do something you don’t like, okay? No matter what.

[12:25] You: i will

[12:25] Yoongi: Good girl.

God. Being this turned on at work feels like a crime.

[12:26] Yoongi: I’m not trying to be mean, baby. I already told you, I’m dying to fuck you. I wasn’t just saying that.

[12:27] Yoongi: But when I fuck you, I want to be able to take my time.

[12:27] Yoongi: Wanna have you in my bed and not in my studio, first of all. All spread out for me so I can see all of you.

[12:28] Yoongi: Wanna taste you again. I can’t stop thinking about how good you taste, fuck. I didn’t take it slow enough last time, didn’t get to savor it, but I’m gonna fix that. Gonna make you come with my tongue again before you even get my cock, get you nice and wet for me.

[12:29] Yoongi: Not that it takes much. Bet you’re wet right now, aren’t you? Just from this?

Oh, he’s so mean. Your thighs clench again and you chew on your bottom lip as you type, hyperaware of the way the thin fabric of your panties clings to your sex. It feels so dirty, knowing that in a few minutes you’ll have to work like this. You’ll have to talk to your colleagues like this, pretend like nothing’s amiss. You’d be lying if you said the thought didn’t turn you on even more.

[12:29] You: yeah. god, yoongi. i am

[12:30] Yoongi: Yeah. I know, baby. It’s okay. I’m gonna take care of you when I can. Gonna make you feel so good. You sounded so sweet when you came for me last time. Can’t wait to hear what kind of pretty noises you’ll make when I get to have you properly.

[12:31] Yoongi: Fuck, Y/N. If you think I don’t wish I was with you right this second you’re insane. Been dreaming about your pussy. But I wanna do this the right way.

You believe him. Even through your phone, you can feel it—that raw honesty that Yoongi always gives you. He’s been agonizing over this just as much as you have. It makes you feel a little bad, honestly, that you so wantonly distracted him like this, when he’s been working so hard this week. Maybe part of you wanted to get back at him for denying you what you wanted on Friday, but now, you realize that you’re glad he did. You want all of that, too. Everything he said, every word of it. Just because this is casual doesn’t mean you have to rush.

Maybe it’s time for you to give him a little honesty of your own.

[12:32] You: i want that too

[12:32] You: shit i have to go back to work soon but i promise i’m not trying to rush this i just…

[12:32] You: really, really want you

[12:33] Yoongi: I want you too.

[12:33] Yoongi: Soon, okay? Really really soon if I can help it.

You look up from your phone when the chime of an Outlook notification snaps you out of your bubble, directing your attention to an email from your boss. With a longsuffering sigh, you click it open. He wants to talk to you as soon as you’re available, and your salad isn’t going to eat itself, so you resign yourself to letting Yoongi get back to work.

[12:35] You: soon

[12:35] You: go back to work. that grammy isn’t gonna win itself

[12:36] Yoongi: Lmfao. Go back to work, she says, as if she didn’t just give me the most persistent boner of my life unprovoked.

[12:36] You: motivation!

[12:36] Yoongi: Motivation for me to do more inappropriate shit in my place of business, maybe. But it’s a lot sadder when I’m by myself.

[12:37] You: wowwwww pics or it didn’t happen

[12:37] Yoongi: YOU go back to work, pervert.

You do. Begrudgingly.

You quickly type an email to your boss, just a cursory, ‘There are fifteen minutes left in my lunch, and then I’ll be there. Thanks Kevin!’ Afterwards, you scarf down your lunch. And you finally watch those cat videos Yoongi sent you, which effectively tamps down your horny high enough for you not to feel icky about meeting with your boss. 

★ ★ ★

Fifteen minutes later on the dot, you’re knocking on Kevin’s door.

You like your boss well enough. As much as one can like their boss, maybe, give or take a bad day. Kevin is nice, but his name is stupid, and he certainly doesn’t live up to your expectations of what a music journalism editor would be like when you first applied to Look Here Magazine.

Foolishly, you expected someone straight out of Almost Famous: young, wears band t-shirts beneath blazers, a chainsmoker, a little bit sleazy, with music knowledge to put Nardwuar to shame. Instead, what you got is a mostly-bald, clean-cut, mid-forties guy who wears khakis most days of the week and says things like ‘circle back’ and ‘best practice.’ He’s competent, sure, and you need him to like you, absolutely, but he does make your job feel a little less cool. But who knows! Maybe Kevin rocks out on the weekends. You certainly don’t, so who are you to judge?

Kevin waves you in, and before you even have the chance to sit down, he’s dropping a bomb on you that makes you feel like your legs are going to give out beneath you.

“You’re taking charge on the Yijeong profile piece,” he says flippantly as peers over his glasses at his monitor, typing without pause.

There’s absolutely no way you just heard that right. Yijeong's profile was assigned already, to a reporter who has been at Look Here a lot longer than you. You tell Kevin as much, as if he wasn’t in the newsroom when the piece was pitched in the first place.

“Sora didn’t have enough bandwidth to juggle the profile and the reunion tour coverage, and that’s going to be on the cover,” Kevin says, without even a passing glance to you. As if he isn’t altering the trajectory of your career over a scheduling conflict. “It’s all you, kid.”

“I don’t have the contacts,” you blurt out, having mercy on your poor, wobbly legs as you sit down.

“Ask Sora for the contacts.”

“Don’t you want someone more experienced for this? Connected?”

It’s not that you don’t want it. Writing a profile on someone like Jang Yijeong is a dream come true for someone as green as you are. It may not be the cover article, but the headline will be written on the cover, and so far you’ve only written the puff pieces that readers likely use to pad outgoing mail. If you do this right, there’s a chance of less puff pieces and more real journalism.

It’s the if that scares you. Jang Yijeong has rebranded his entire career from being an idol to being a producer, so he’s technically considered an up-and-coming artist where Look Here is concerned. Nobody has heard his name in a few years, and a piece on him by a publication like Look Here could make him the most sought after producer in the country, if he plays it right. 

But Yijeong has also been in the music industry for a long time. He’s been interviewed by countless reporters. He’s media trained. Good media training is a death sentence for profiles, which are supposed to dig deep into the subject. Trust is everything in this kind of situation, and if Look Here sends a rookie like you to interview Jang Yijeong without the proper connections, without someone to vouch for you, he will show up to the interview with a script in hand. The profile will be a dud and your career will pay the price.

Sighing, Kevin finally stops typing, looking at you for the first time since you walked into his office. You shift in your seat, trying to make yourself look less fucking terrified.

“Look, I could hand it off to someone else, but you’ve been doing a good job these past couple of weeks. In your interview, you told me you’re most interested in writing features. That you’re good at it. I’m throwing you a bone,” he says, and you take a shaky breath. “Take the piece. Don’t try to reinvent the wheel. You’ve written profiles before, you know what to do. Just ask good questions, don’t be stiff, and you’ll be fine.”

Kevin’s phone rings, and his attention is stolen again as he picks it up to answer it without a second thought. “Talk to Sora, and then take the day out in the field tomorrow to see what kind of background you can dig up,” he says, waving you out with the same indifference he waved you in with. You scramble to stand up, rushing to leave.

“Deadline is Wednesday!” he calls as you shut the door behind you, taking a moment to catch your breath before you try to find Sora.

Holy shit.

You have work to do.

★ ★ ★

You spend your entire day on Friday pounding pavement, milking all of Sora’s sources for what they’re worth, but you don’t learn any information about Jang Yijeong that you can’t find on his Wikipedia page.

You don’t give up easily, though. No, you plan to put your investigative reporting skills to good use, via a healthy session of social media stalking. You can find out a lot about someone from what they post on X and Instagram, after all. You have to reach out to Yijeong’s label to schedule an interview as soon as possible, and if you have to get your hard hitting questions based off of what you can glean from a meal he photographed in 2013, so be it.

It’s ten at night by the time you flop onto your bed, phone in hand, ready to pull an all-nighter and plunge yourself into the rabbit hole that is Jang Yijeong’s social media. Pepper hops up with you, curling up on your stomach and purring contentedly as you start scrolling.

Nearly two hours and ten possible interview questions later, your phone buzzes in your hand. It’s Yoongi.

[11:47] Yoongi: Are you coming over or not?

Oh, fuck. It’s Friday. Meaning Yoongi is done with his track.

You’d almost forgotten how horny you’d been for the past week, completely absorbed in your assignment. It stands to reason that as soon as Yoongi is free, you’re suddenly swamped with work of your own. But, of course, it all comes rushing back just from a text.

Whatever! You’ve been at it for hours, anyway. You deserve a break.

[11:49] You: when did you get home?

[11:49] Yoongi: About half an hour ago.

[11:50] You: hmmmm… did you take a shower?

[11:50] Yoongi: Obviously. I’ve been in the studio for most of the week. I’m not an animal.

You snort to yourself, which scares the shit out of Pepper after your complete silence for the past two hours. You’re suddenly proud that you had the foresight to take a shower of your own when you got home from interrogating people all day, although this wasn’t on your mind at the time. 

[11:50] You: leave the door open?

[11:51] Yoongi: Will do.

You very carefully nudge Pepper off of your stomach, giving yourself a cursory glance in your mirror once you’re up. You make sure that your hair looks good at least, but your clothes don’t matter as much. It’s not like they’ll be on for long anyway.

Satisfied with what you see, you make your way through your apartment, grabbing your keys to lock your door on your way out.

Maybe it’s the workload that was dumped on you yesterday, but you feel much more level headed about this than you thought you would. It’s like your body has finally caught up with your brain, and you can recognize this part of your relationship with Yoongi for what it actually is: stress relief. You’ll go to his apartment, he’ll give it to you so good, and then you’ll go back to work and he won’t care because, like he told you before, he gets it. You’re giddy just thinking about it.

Walking into Yoongi’s apartment isn’t daunting, nor is locking the door behind you. Nor is finding him on his couch and climbing into his lap without even a hello, crushing your lips to his the way you’ve spent all week dreaming about.

Yoongi makes a surprised noise against your mouth, his hands hovering at your waist, but he quickly melts into the kiss, letting you take the lead for a moment as his hands find their place, pulling you closer. It’s only when you tease the seam of his lips with your tongue, silently requesting entry that he pulls back, forcing you to breathe.

���Hi,” he says, clearly amused by your enthusiasm.

“Hi,” you parrot back, grinning.

His hands slip from your waist to your hips as he looks you over, toying with the fabric of your sleep shorts. “Remember what we talked about yesterday?” You hum coyly, guiding his hand under the hem, which makes him huff, shaking his head with a smirk. “Wanting to do this the right way,” he reminds you, quickly removing his hand from where you led it, instead opting to smooth it over the curve of your ass.

“Easier said than done,” you reply, feeling bold enough to take the initiative that he won’t and sliding your hands under his shirt, running them over his abdomen. The fabric bunches up, and you can’t help but stare at the tantalizing inch of pale skin you’re rewarded with.

You gasp in surprise at the light spank Yoongi gives your ass in return, not nearly hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough for you to pull your hands away. You know a warning when you see one—or feel one, that is. When you look up at him, he’s raising an eyebrow at you.

“Thought you said you wanted it like that,” he hums, rubbing over where he smacked you. “There’s always the alternative.”

Oh. That.

You wish you could say the thought of letting Yoongi fuck your throat wasn’t appealing, but there’s no hiding the way it makes you squirm, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. Yoongi hasn’t been particularly rough with you yet, but he’s hinted that he can be, if you want it. You imagine his hand on your jaw, encouraging you to open wider for him. Your eyes watering as you struggle to breathe through your nose. You still don’t know what his dick looks like, how thick it’ll feel on your tongue, how much your jaw will ache, but you’re eager to fill in the blanks of your imagination. You’ll definitely take him up on that one day, but no, he’s right. 

You want to come. You want him to make you come. As stubborn as you are, you can’t deny that.

“You can take your time,” you mumble, meeting his eyes. 

He smiles, bringing his free hand up to cup your face, his thumb rubbing your cheek like it did that night in his studio. “Good girl,” he murmurs, rewarding you with a sweet kiss that makes you moan, shifting your hips to grind against the bulge you feel stiffening under you. 

Yoongi pulls away from your lips with a chuckle, patting your hip gently. “Up,” he says, and you scramble to your feet, no more bratty attitude to be found at the moment. 

He stands with you, guiding you by the hand to his bedroom. Since he’s so adamant about taking his time, you take a moment to glance around the room, taking in all the little things about it that reflect what you’ve learned about Yoongi over the past several weeks.

Like the rest of his apartment, his bedroom is much cleaner than you would’ve assumed. There’s a desk with a small home studio setup, much more sparse than what you’ve seen in his actual studio. The equipment looks old and well-loved, and you wonder how long he’s had it. A basketball jersey hanging over his desk chair with his name emblazoned on the back. A dresser with various jewelry scattered on top, chains and rings and earrings. 

His bed, of course, takes up the most space in the room. Where you have a queen bed in your own bedroom, you note that his is clearly a king, with a soft looking black comforter over top. A comforter that you’re about to be pressed into, you think. 

Yoongi comes up behind you, his hands on your waist, lips on your neck trailing kisses over your nape and making you shiver.

“Relax,” he murmurs, huffing a laugh that you feel more than hear. “Lie down for me?”

You nod, walking to the bed and settling flat on your back. God, is this a Purple mattress? You hate him a little bit. You found your mattress on the side of the road.

Yoongi doesn’t give you long to stew on your hatred, though. Not when he’s spreading your legs, your feet planted flat on the mattress beneath you so he can fit his hips between your thighs. Not when you can feel how hard he is already, even through the layers separating you.

He kisses you again, long and slow and hot, all of your breath leaving your lungs at the feeling of his lips on yours. “Remember to stop me,” he mumbles between kisses. “If I do something you don’t like.”

You honestly find it hard to believe that Yoongi could do anything you wouldn’t like, but you nod your head jerkily in response, not wanting to separate from his lips for any longer than necessary.

Soon, he’s pressing open-mouthed kisses down your neck as his hands push your shirt up slowly, only separating himself from you to pull it off entirely and toss it aside on the mattress.

“Fuck,” he groans at the discovery that you aren’t wearing a bra, his hands immediately coming up to squeeze your breasts. “Wanted to make it easy for me, huh, baby?” 

In reality, you’d just been dressed for bed, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him that, unable to form the words as his lips travel down to your chest, his tongue coming out to lave over a nipple.

You moan, your head falling back onto the mattress under you with a dull ‘thunk’ as Yoongi wraps his lips around the sensitive bud and sucks, your hands flying up to tangle in his hair.

“You like that,” he teases, a statement and not a question. He lifts his head, looking down at your tits with his bottom lip between his teeth. “So pretty, baby.” 

Your cheeks flush warmly at the praise, and desperate to shift the attention away from yourself, your hands slide down to his chest, fisting in his shirt and tugging.

“Your turn,” you breathe, and he chuckles as he sits up on his knees, tugging his shirt over his head.

You can’t help but stare. It’s not that you thought that Yoongi would be skinny, per se, but he does have a tendency to wear clothes a little too big for him, dwarfing him, and given his already small stature due to his height… Not that you would’ve minded in the slightest if he was on the scrawnier side, but Christ. He’s decidedly not scrawny. He’s lean, with shoulders broader than you would’ve given him credit for at a passing glance. 

And now here you are, gifted with an expanse of pale, smooth skin over compact muscle. Your eyes roam over him, from dusky nipples all the way down to the thin trail of dark hair starting right under his navel and leading your gaze down to where his cock strains against his sweatpants.

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to touch somebody so badly in your life. The best part is that you can.

And you do. You feel greedy, your hands reaching out to smooth over his chest, down his abdomen, your eyes half-lidded and lips parted in a daze. 

Yoongi lets you touch all you want, but when your hands move down to cup his erection through his sweatpants, you hear his breath hitch as he stops you, shaking his head and pinning your arm to the mattress gently.

“Your turn,” he murmurs softly, throwing your words right back at you. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, tilting his head at you as he starts to pull them down, the movement torturously slow. “Wanna see if you skipped the panties, too.”

You lift your hips so he can pull them down the rest of the way. You are not, in fact, wearing panties, because you were going the fuck to sleep originally, and you hear him suck in a breath after the shorts are discarded.

“What the hell did I do to deserve you?” he breathes. You ignore the funny thing your heart does in your chest at his words, opting instead to focus on his hand drawing closer to you.

You both moan when his fingers slide over you, finding you soaked once again.

“Fuck,” Yoongi hisses as he gathers your slick with his fingers. He drags them slowly up to your sensitive bundle of nerves and circles around it, only to slide back down again, repeating the motion again and again. You moan every time he reaches your clit, your hips bucking up into his touch.

“This pussy,” he starts, and you lift your head at sudden motion as he sinks down to lay on his stomach, holding himself up with his elbows, “gets so fucking wet for me.”

His pupils are blown as he hooks your legs over his shoulders, just like last time, but instead of going right for it, Yoongi starts pressing kisses to your thigh. Your head falls back onto the mattress again, and you squeeze your eyes shut as he continues to speak. 

“Been thinking about this all week,” Yoongi mumbles into your skin, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, forcing a gasp out of you. “You make it impossible to focus, you know that?”

A high, needy whine falls from your lips as he suddenly runs the tip of his tongue between your folds, and when you lift your head to watch, he pulls away, his dark eyes meeting yours in a smoldering gaze.

“I could’ve been done with that track on fucking Tuesday,” he says, dipping down again to wrap his lips around your clit and suck, making you cry out, tangling your fingers in his hair again. “Do you know how many times I jerked off thinking about being between these thighs again?”

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you whimper, his words conjuring images that make you feel as though you’re coming apart at the seams. Yoongi chuckles darkly, pressing a kiss to your clit.

“Yeah, that’s my girl,” he praises, his tone so dark it sends a shiver down your spine. “Gonna make you say my name like that again, baby. You want it?”

“Yes,” you gasp out without a second thought. You need his mouth on you so bad you feel like you’re going to explode. “Shit, please.”

“So polite.”

Yoongi doesn’t make you wait any longer, his head dipping back down again so he can taste you properly, the flat of his tongue licking slowly over your pussy.

“Thank you,” you moan, the words slipping out completely outside of your control. Yoongi’s movements pause for just a fraction of a second, and suddenly you’re overwhelmed with the worry that ‘thank you’ was a fucking weird thing to say to the guy eating you out. But then you feel Yoongi’s responding moan right into your cunt, the vibrations making your eyes roll back into your head, and his tongue resumes its movements. 

True to his word, he’s taking his sweet time, savoring every bit of you, but you don’t fucking care. You want his cock, desperately, but he can stay down there for hours if he really wants to so long as it feels like this.

You lose track of time, your thighs trembling around his head as you lose yourself in the feeling of his tongue, but you’re quite literally yanked back into the moment when Yoongi lifts his head again, forcefully dragging you closer and latching his lips around your clit. 

“Fuck, fuck—Yoongi, fuck!” you cry out as Yoongi makes it abundantly clear that he’s no longer interested in dragging this out any longer. The way he’s eating you out now is going to make you come, and soon. 

You can hear the wet, filthy sounds of his mouth on you, even over the blood pulsating through your ears, even over the way you’re moaning for him as your orgasm barrels closer. 

Your fingers pull at his hair, your hips shifting to grind against his tongue, and he moans into you again, his hands grasping at your hips to help you move. You take the action for what it is: he wants you to come. Like, now. Well, he doesn’t have to fucking tell you twice.

For the second time, you come from Yoongi’s tongue, writhing beneath him as you moan helplessly. Your body feels like it’s on fire, your muscles clenching and unclenching as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly. 

Yoongi works you through it, but unlike last time he can sense your impending overstimulation before you need to push him away, shifting to sit up on his knees as you catch your breath. 

“So fucking sexy,” he grunts, running his hands over your body as his eyes trail over you appreciatively. 

Shit, he’s one to talk. He looks so hot like this, his hair a mess from your pulling, his lips and chin slick from your pussy. 

Not to mention, just like last time, he’s so fucking hard. The only difference is that this time, he’ll let you have it.

“Wanna touch you,” you breathe, already pushing up shakily to slide your hand beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. Yoongi makes no move to stop you, his breath hitching as your hand wraps around him.

His length feels thicker than you expected in your hand, your mind instantly wandering to how it’s going to feel inside of you very soon. You don’t think you’ve ever taken something this thick before, and you want it so fucking bad.

“Shit, baby, just like that,” Yoongi grits out as you start pumping him slowly, his hips bucking forward into your hand. “Feels so good.”

You lean up to capture his lips with yours, tasting yourself on his tongue as the kiss quickly turns sloppy and desperate, lacking all finesse but somehow still so goddamn sexy. All the while, you keep touching him, his breath coming out shaky through his nose as he licks into your mouth with heat. 

When your grasp on his cock gets a little firmer, his hips stutter and his hand comes up to grasp your wrist again, urgently halting your movements.

“Gotta stop. ‘m gonna come if you keep doing that,” he says, pulling away. There’s a flush in his cheeks, spreading down to his chest. It’s almost cute, but then he opens that fucking mouth again, his eyes locked on yours. “Wanna come inside you.”

Fuck.

“Yeah,” you breathe in agreement, nodding jerkily and pulling your hand from his pants in an instant. “Want that. Fuck me.”

Yoongi groans, his eyes shutting tightly. He shakes his head. “Need a minute,” he says, his voice almost pained. “Fuck, you’re too much.”

He busies himself with reaching over your body and across the bed, pulling open the drawer of his bedside table. You keep your hands to yourself, ignoring the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch again. If he needs a minute, he can have it. You’ve waited this long.

Once his body returns to yours, he tosses a condom next to you on the bed before dipping down to kiss you again. His lips are gentle on yours this time, slow and almost sweet, unlike any way he’s kissed you so far. The chasteness of it throws you off, but it isn’t necessarily unwelcome—not from Yoongi, at least. He’s probably just trying to chill the fuck out so he doesn’t come too fast, you reason.

After a few minutes, though, Yoongi’s lips part from yours and he presses one last kiss to your temple, reaching for the condom beside you.

“Ready?” he asks, the edge of the foil packet held between his teeth as he sits up, using both hands to push his sweatpants down.

Your eyes are glued to him as he rips the packet open carefully, rolling the condom onto his cock. Your imagination never would’ve done him justice. The sight of his long fingers wrapped around his length is enough for your last thread of patience to snap.

“I think I’m going to die if you don’t fuck me right now,” you say honestly, your eyes unmoving from his cock, and he laughs, sliding a hand up your thigh.

“Dramatic,” he teases, his fingers trailing over your pussy, ensuring that you’re still wet enough to take him. “You think you’re ready for it?” he asks, two fingers prodding at your entrance before they start fucking into you easily. 

You whine, your back arching as his fingers scissor inside your pussy. “Can’t wait anymore,” you gasp out, and he relents, withdrawing his fingers to wrap them around his cock, shifting so he’s over you again.

“Okay, okay,” he murmurs, the tip of his nose grazing yours at this proximity. You feel the blunt head of his cock running through your folds, one last tease, before he lines himself up with your entrance. “I’ll take care of you, baby. Promise.”

Your legs wrap around his hips as he slowly eases in, his breath shuddering next to your ear as he fills you bit by bit. The stretch makes your head spin, but Yoongi takes his time just like he promised, rubbing your hip soothingly to keep you relaxed.

“Finally,” you breathe when he finally bottoms out, and he laughs.

“Yeah? Gonna thank me again?” Yoongi jokes, but the way his cock twitches inside you betrays the way he really feels about that.

“Maybe when you make me come,” you quip in return, but his hips draw back, giving an experimental thrust back into you, and suddenly nothing is all that funny anymore.

You both moan, and Yoongi trails his nose up the side of your neck as he does it again, setting a rhythm of long, slow strokes.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes, the wrecked sound of his voice sending a flare of arousal through you, causing your walls to clench around his cock. “You feel so good.”

All you can do is moan in response, your arms looping around his shoulders, hands in his hair. “Squeezing me so fucking tight,” he grits out, fucking into you just a little bit faster, a little bit deeper.

“Like that,” you gasp out, fingers tightening in his hair out of desperation.

“Yeah?” he groans, snapping his hips into you with more force now. “You want it harder, baby?” At your choked ‘yes’, it’s like a switch has flipped, Yoongi’s hips snapping into you so forcefully you see stars, your thighs beginning to shake on either side of him as he slams into you.

His hands smooth up your thighs, deep thrusts continuing uninterrupted as he positions your legs, pinning your thighs between your bodies so you’re practically folded in half, and oh, fuck. The angle change makes the head of Yoongi’s cock hit the spot that makes you cry out, your nails dragging down the length of his back as you become instantly aware that you’re going to come soon.

“Mm–Yoongi, fuck, please don’t stop—I’m so close, please—”

“Taking me so good,” he groans. “Touch yourself, baby. Make yourself come, I’m right there with you.”

You obey instantly, your hand sliding down between your bodies to rub your clit with two fingers. Your walls flutter around him, making him hiss as you teeter on the edge of your impending orgasm.

Yoongi braces himself, held up with his hands on either side of you. It’s his eyes on you, his lip between his teeth as he watches you touch yourself that finally sends you hurtling over the edge. You squeeze tightly around him as you come, your body convulsing under him as the pleasure washes over you, his name falling from your lips over and over.

“Nghh, good girl, shit,” he grunts, the rhythm of his hips instantly becoming erratic. “Fuck, Y/N. Gonna come.”

It only takes a few more thrusts before you feel Yoongi’s body tense, his cock pulsing inside of you as he spills into the condom with a groan. He drops down to his elbows carefully, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss, his lips moving languidly over yours. 

You kiss him back, but after a few moments you’re suddenly hyper aware of how… intimate this feels, kissing like this as he softens inside of you. You pull away to look up at him. “Thank you,” you say, grinning tiredly as you try to break the tension surrounding the moment.

It seems to work, because Yoongi laughs breathlessly, pulling out of you with care and shifting off of the bed to dispose of the condom. “Funny,” he says.

You take the opportunity to sit up, despite your body feeling like jelly. You don’t think you can take Yoongi cleaning you up on top of what just occurred.

“Bathroom?” you ask, heading to it when he points you in the right direction.

You clean yourself up quickly, and when you return Yoongi is, mercifully, dressed again and retrieving your shorts from the floor for you. You take them with a small, grateful smile, pulling your shorts and top back on.

“So you got your track done?” you ask, trying to make some light conversation.

Yoongi scoffs, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Few hours ago,” he says, tilting his head and looking at you a little funny. Whatever he’s thinking, though, he doesn’t say it. “How was your week, anyway? I know I was a little M.I.A.”

You brighten the slightest bit at his question, joining him on the bed. “Actually,” you say. “Something pretty cool happened yesterday afternoon.”

“Yeah?”

“I kind of got entrusted with this huge assignment. I don’t know if I’ll be able to pull it off, but if I do, it’s a career changer, for sure.”

“Oh yeah?” he says, grinning at you. “That’s great, Y/N. You deserve it.”

His praise makes you blush, looking down to pick at a loose thread on his comforter. You only blush because you know he means it. Yoongi actually reads your stuff. Rina doesn’t even really read your stuff, and she’s your best friend. But maybe it’s because Yoongi is in the music industry and the stuff you publish is more interesting to him.

Yoongi is in the music industry.

It’s like a lightbulb goes off in your head, and you shift closer to him.

“Actually,” you say. “I’m kind of struggling with it? And I was wondering, um… I’d really appreciate it if you could help me out a little bit. Do you happen to know Jang Yijeong?”

Yoongi stiffens next to you, not a lot, but enough for you to notice from this close. “Yeah, I know him,” he says anyway. “We’re friends.”

You’re confused by his reaction, but you soldier on. “I just need an interview with him. I need someone he can trust to set me up with him so he doesn’t give me scripted bullshit, you know? And… If you could be the one to do that, it would make my life a million times easier, honestly.”

For a long moment, Yoongi says nothing, not really looking at you. You don’t know what you said to get this reaction out of him, but you don’t like it, and you’re about to take back your request entirely when he speaks again.

“Okay. I’ll talk to him,” he says. He’s looking at you now, which makes you relax a bit.

“Really?” you ask softly. “Only if you’re okay with it, but it would seriously be a huge help.”

“Yeah, I’ll put in a good word,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. He suddenly seems much less stiff, like whatever weird moment that just took place has passed now, and he laughs. “Just promise you won’t make me regret it.”

At ease, you snort, rolling your eyes. “I promise,” you say flatly, nudging his shoulder with yours. Your voice softens. “Thank you.”

“Sure,” he says easily, getting up from the bed and making his way to the door. “Have you eaten? I’m gonna make kimchijeon.”

Yoongi really is saving your ass. After fucking you so nicely, too. And now he’s making you midnight kimchijeon!

“That sounds good,” you call after him, smiling to yourself after he’s left the room.

Yeah, you can get used to this.

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[ashen-char]

needy 🔞

my masterlist, to check out my other works, is here

ship: max fox (better things) x gender neutral reader (insomuch as the reader uses a strap but there are no references to your gender identity/expression)

warnings: explicit smut, strap-on sex

summary: after you two talk about your sex life, your girlfriend has been even needier than usual. she wants you to strap her down.

word count: 2700+

notes: written as a continuation from you like that? 🔞 but can be read on its own. requested here

You can feel Max's stare on you. She’s lying on your bed, having flopped down right after walking in, moaning about how beat she was from work. Max likes to stride right in like she owns the place, flexing that you gave her a set of keys and that she can do whatever she likes. She's a cutie like that.

Being a hostess means a lot of standing around in heels and running all over the place to keep the tables in her section happy. Big smiles and being polite all the time - Max was great at it, but it wasn't for you.

You were at your desk, busy on your computer when she came in. She said she didn’t want to bother you, so you let her relax. Told her to kick her heels off and change into something more comfy. But now, it’s clear she wants your attention.

"What's up?" you ask, swirling your desk chair over to look at her.

A smile comes to your lips. Max had taken your invitation to make herself at home very literally, stealing one of your hoodies and sweats while her dress is now a crumpled mess on your bedroom floor. The oversized look works on her, making your girlfriend look all cozy and sweet.

"This is so sick," Max complains from her spot in your sheets. "I came over to be loved and this is what I get. Ignored. Neglected."

In a huff, Max grabs one of your pillows and hugs it tight, until her face is burrowed in it. She snuggles up to like it's an imperfect stand-in for you, with only half of your scent and your comfort. Because you're being so mean right now by being on the other side of the room. It's playful, but you know there's truth to it. After your very heated, very spicy discussion about what you two enjoy in bed last week - namely, that you like when Max tells you want to do - Max has gotten better at telling you what she needs. And right now, she needs attention.

It's a slow process. Learning that she can ask for anything in this relationship is one thing, but being encouraged to be outspoken is another. Max has loved leaning into it. She likes to interrupt your conversations for a quick 'kiss me' before going straight back into listening to you.

"Oh no. Whatever shall we do?" you tease.

To your sarcasm, Max lifts her head from the pillow and rolls her eyes at you. Max shifts, her impatience palpable. With a pout, she holds her arms up. "Give me love. Now."

And how could you refuse that? Shutting your laptop lid with a satisfying click, you make your way over to her. She grabs your hips the instant you're close enough, because to her, you're never close enough. She leans in and plants a passionate kiss to your mouth, clumsy, desperate, a needy motion that tells you how much she missed you.

Breaking the kiss, Max murmurs, "I've been thinking about what you said." When she pulls back, her big brown eyes peer into yours like she's waiting for a reaction.

"Uh, what thing specifically?" You let Max lead you into your bed. Joining her in your sheets, you can't help but laugh when she crawls onto you and wraps her arms around your neck.

"Well," Max says, shifting from her spot on your lap, but whether it's embarrassment or impatience you can't tell, "I'm talking about that thing about how you feel good when I feel good. That you'd be willing to, uh, be a bit rougher if I like it."

Right. You could tell your discussion last week affected Max - she was so wet on your fingers and tongue that night. No doubt your promise to give in to Max's pleasure-pain kink drove the girl crazy. It's not like you didn't know beforehand. She screamed and whined the prettiest when you got aggressive.

"Yeah, I remember. I've been trying," you say with a nod. When her eyes dart down, sheepish, you tilt her head back up so Max can look at you. "And what's the verdict? Has it been good, bad, not enough?"

"Good. Very good." Max nods to herself at that. "You don't need to worry about that."

You can tell just what memory she's thinking about when she grabs at the sheets and balls it up in her fists. Last night, you had Max sprawled across your bed, her legs draped over your shoulders. Head buried between them. Just working over her clit hungrily, lapping up her juices. Her hands were tangled in your hair the way she's wringing the sheets now, guiding your movements with little moans and groans, telling you just where to bring that tongue. Very good indeed.

"Alright. What did you wanna say about it then, if I don't need to be worried?" you ask eventually, breaking her out of her reverie.

"Well, you know how we bought that strap together last month, but we never had the chance to properly use it?" Max starts. She holds eye contact with you this time, those beautiful big brown eyes of hers staring you down. Maybe even daring you to deny her. "I want you to fuck me with it. Like hard. I've been wanting you to rail me, babe."

You want to. Obviously. And it's clear Max wants you to. "Look, trust me. I've been excited to try it too," you start. But something in you is still all protective and worried, just like the day she convinced you to buy it. It seemed too big. And if you were to go as rough on her as you want to, to dick her down properly? You're not sure she can take it. But you hold those words back, knowing Max would throw a fit if you were going too soft on her again. "I just-"

After a beat of you not answering, she tucks her bottom lip between her teeth before whining. "Come onnnn, it'll be fun. Don't tell me you've never thought about it."

"Of course I do!"

Max untangles herself from your hold, and for a second you half-worry she's just going to storm off. But instead, your lovely girlfriend positions herself flirtatiously on your bed, shifting to her hands and knees. "You don't want to hit this?" When she shakes her ass, you have to stifle back a moan.

"Oh come on, that's not fair," you breathe out. 

"No, baby. What's unfair is that I'm not being strapped to oblivion right now," Max retorts, "even though I waited all patiently for a month and I'm asking super nicely!"

It's cute. Only Max would think she's being patient and sweet when she's yelling at you. And you never could say no to Max. At least, not for long. Not when she juts out her bottom lip like that and gives you the puppy dog eyes. So you throw up your hands and stand from your bed.

"Fine, fine. I think I put it somewhere around here anyways," you grumble.

Going to your closet as Max quickly celebrates by herself, rolling around on your bed with that shit-eating grin on her face, you rifle through your stuff. Past the boxes and the messy pile of your clothes. Probably in the underwear drawer where you hide your toys.

You find the harness in your handy backpack, a more reasonably sized dildo still attached to it from last time (already clean! You're not gross!). The new dildo on the other hand, you find tucked deep in the back of one of your drawers. You step into the harness, replacing the old dildo with this new one. The silicone's weight tugs at the back of your hips as you adjusted the straps, not used to one this size. You wonder how Max will handle it. The thought makes you smile and once it's secure, you couldn't hide your eagerness.

"Oh, you're gonna be wrecked, babe," you chuckle from behind the closet door. "This new strap is a baddd idea."

"I love bad ideas," Max tells you. She sits on the edge of the bed, biting her bottom lip with a mix of anticipation and excitement. "Come and take me, baby. I want that huge cock of yours." You can hear the joke in her tone, but the word 'huge' is apt.

Shutting the door, you step out and let Max see what she's in for. It's honestly obscene. You had to switch out the ring of your harness to attach this new bad boy, since the base was too thick. The thickest part of it is the circumference of your wrist. Max's eyes widen. You wonder if she looks more nervous or thrilled. "Jesus."

"Yeah, I know." You move in closer, getting on top of your girlfriend until your breath is hot against her ear. "It's not too late. I could go and switch it for the normal one," you offer.

"Don't you fucking dare." Max playfully spreads her legs, showing off her pretty blue panties. "You know I've been wanting something bigger. It looks so sexy on you too," she whispers. 

You move further onto the bed until you're kneeling between her spread legs.  Taking the silicone in her hand, she grabs it by the base and starts rubbing it against her center. Teasing herself until a wet spot is visible in the fabric.

"Oh, fuck."

You can't tell if the next moan you hear comes out of her, as the engorged head of this thing brushes against her clit, or out of you as you watch her. She's gorgeous. She's filthy.

"I want this in me. Now." Max grips it and you tense up for a while like you were expecting to feel it. "So lay down. I'm gonna ride you."

"Your wish is my command," you say, doing just that.

You think you can hear Max's heart racing. You can feel her eyes staring down the massive equipment you've got on, lip tucked between her teeth, like she finds it so mind-numbingly sexy that you're gonna dick her down with something this ridiculous.

You tug her panties, soaked now after all that rubbing, and tuck it to the side, exposing her glistening pussy. God, you want to lick her out until she's begging for mercy. But that's not what Max asked for. Not today.

"You need to relax for this, baby," you instruct. Grabbing the bottle of lube beside your bed, you smear a healthy dollop on the head and along the shaft. "Go slow. Just to start, at least."

Max's eyes flit up to meet yours. You catch the slightest bit of protest, knowing Max was going to complain that you were being soft on her again. But your eyes tell her that you're serious, so she lets it go.

The tip presses against her entrance, parting her swollen folds. "Fuck...!" Max's eyes squeeze shut, her body trembling, her hand instantly reaching out and grabbing your hip.

With a shaky breath to collect herself, Max slowly starts pushing herself onto it. You watch as the head - your head, your strap, your cock - breaches her slowly but surely. Her nails dig into your skin, as the thickness stretches her.

It's never been this slow to start before. Usually, you could get right down to business, sliding your strap in to the hilt and making Max squeal. This has a different appeal. The way her body reluctantly, but still oh so needily, takes you in, shows every bit of your girl's greediness. It probably burns. Aches. But her pupils are so blown out due to her arousal that you know Max can't feel it, that she's adoring being stretched. A part of you wants to jerk your hips up and split her open. You know she'd fucking love that. But it's your job to be the reasonable one.

"You're so wet," you whisper.

Max lets out a shaky moan, a needy pathetic thing, her hands grasping onto you as she adjusts to the new sensation. She's taken the whole head now, and a little of the shaft. There's so much left to go and there's already a slight bulge in her tummy. "Shitttt, baby. 'm gonna cry," she tells you.

"Fuck."

Your hands go to her shirt, grabbing her, pulling her down until your lips capture hers. You can't take it when she's like that. You hate when she sounds hurt, your instincts telling you to remind her she can stop. Max sounds like she's loving it. Your greedy girl shifts, taking more, sobbing.

All you can do to support her is to hold her waist, guiding her. Eventually, after what feels like fucking hours, the full length of the dildo is nestled inside her, filling Max completely. You want to give her a break, a kiss as congratulations, to tell her you're proud of her or something. God, you don't know. You feel completely out of your mind right now and you can't even imagine how Max must be feeling. Max does the opposite. She grinds and rubs up against you, like she's whining that you're already hilted all the way inside her.

"Is it good?" you ask.

Max's eyes flutter open, meeting your gaze. A look of pure pleasure and contentment washes over her pretty features, her big brown eyes looking blissed out. "So good. Very good."  With a grateful smile, she nods to you, indicating her readiness to continue. "Hurry up and fuck me."

You lean in, nipping at Max's neck before starting a slow rhythm. You want to let Max's body adapt, after all, and you're hoping the bite will make her wait a little longer before she asks you to speed up.

From your hips, her fingers slide down to your ass, gripping you there as if willing you to thrust up into her harder. You oblige. As you start to put in the hip work, you know you're doing well when Max moans softly into your mouth and she arches into your touch. Her soft breasts press against yours.

"A-ah." A broken moan. A twitch. Max is enjoying this more than she usually does. "You're so big," she tells you in a breathless whisper.

"You're the one that chose the size," you remind. "Can't take it?"

Max shakes her head and starts to move her hips of her own volition. "No, I love it. Don't stop."

Going beyond meeting each thrust with her hips now, Max makes good on your word and starts riding you. She just couldn't help but take control, going from rocking her hips with yours in sync to grinding against your lap. It makes the bit of the strap that rubs up against you provide more friction, something you were sorely needing. You watch as every time you hilt in her, a bulge protrudes out, and you can't help but think about how you're rearranging her guts right now. How Max's body is accommodating you so well even with the dildo's size, that she needs your dick so much she'll go through the pain for it.

"I-I love you," she mumbles between kisses, the words slurred. "Oh, fuck."

Max's fingers make their way to her clit, rubbing in small furious circles as she rode the large dildo to oblivion. You can see the telltale signs. Her body quivers, the rubbing at her clit getting more insistent. You don't even need the "I'm close!" that escapes Max's lips, already prepared for when she gasps and her pussy clenches around you. You can basically feel it. She's clenching you, not some cheap silicone, milking your cock for all you've got.

"That's it, baby," you say. "I'm here." You let her ride out her orgasm, shoving your cock up into her in time with her shaking, biting and kissing and biting her neck some more. You can feel the waves and waves of ecstasy wracking her body. Grinding your hips against Max, you intensify the experience for both of you.

And finally, when the tremors subside, Max collapses onto your body, panting heavily against your chest. You slip the strap out of her, making Max make a small whimper of protest. "I love you too," you tell her.

[mellosdrawings]

Saw your thoughts on twst polycule ships and got intrigued by your favorites. Could you recommend me fics featuring those?

I wish I was exaggerating...

Disclaimer, you won't actually find much fic recs in my long rant :'D Sorry.

There's actually barely any (if any at all) fics about the polycule ships I mentioned in that post.

For the OB/Housewarden polycule (including or not Yuu), you'll mainly find them in textposts on Tumblr rather than actual fics. To my knowledge, there are only two fics about them (that I haven't read yet).

For the third and second year polycules, same shit. No fics whatsoever. I've only ever heard about them in brainstorming with friends or in textposts.

First year polycule already has more fics! Personally I've been scouring the fanarts more than the tags though. I said it in an old post, I care less about the first years than the others years ^^'

For a teachers polycule, you will find variations (Crowley/Crewel/Sam/Vargas or Crowley/Crewel/Trein or Crowley/Crewel/Sam) but to my knowledge there isn't any for the full polycule (y'all are so mean to Trein and Vargas lmao)

For Yuu/everyone, most of the fics I found were more series of one shots of Yuu with one or two partners rather than a big polycule. I don't really have much to give you here.

(Though as a slight tangent: there is the series Twisted Tales that has various polycules/ships. Be mindful, there are some ships that won't suit everybody, the author likes to make it clear the morality in Twisted Wonderland is vastly different from our own world. Personally I found it interesting to think about.)

For littler polycules:

-you have precisely one (1) fic about the Depression Trio. I like it pretty much.

-for the N2 squad there's just @aria-faye's STYX rewrite and my own fic.

-Azul/Leech probably has the most fics out of all the polycules. But I... don't really read much about it :') I like the fanarts though.

-there's only one (1) fic about the Savanaclaw-to-Pomefiore pipeline (Rook/Leona/Vil) and it wasn't to my taste, but who knows. Maybe you'll like.

-five fics about Azul/Jamil/Idia. They're all pretty cute honestly, I like the vibes.

-one (1) fic about Rook/Vil/Jamil, and I love it a lot but aihdjsbdid V I'm still not over that ending!!!

-couldn't find any of the retainers ship (Ruggie/Jamil/Sebek/Silver)

-and the only one who's ever written the Manipulation gang (Jade/Jamil/Ruggie) is @the-fab-fox in his series, with this fic being the one focused on them.

Can't really think of more polycules rn.

Anyway, all that to say: there are fanarts and textposts, but definitely not enough polycule fics so I invite y'all writers to try your hands at it if it interests you!

Also if anybody has poly fics to rec please put them in the comments I'm starving!

[perseephoneee]

four times we almost kissed and the one time we did (kol mikaelson x f!reader)

warnings: slight blood sharing, mostly frusteration

a/n: unfortunately for my sanity, i have fallen in love with kol. why? i couldn't tell you. the actor drives me up a fucking wall. but the character? i am down for bad. so here ya go. feel free to request more kol or over tvdu characters!!

↳ masterlist ↳  want to be shipped with a fic character?

[1] First meeting

Magic has existed in New Orleans for as long as anyone can remember. The prevalence of voodoo-- NOLA's most giant "tourist trap"-- originated in 1791 with enslaved West Africans who moved to Louisiana to grow a community for as many free people of color. That spirit meant that many of its inhabitants descended from that original society or were drawn here for its magical properties. Your family was one of the latter, a bunch of witches seeking solace in a place that nurtured it. Except with magic came strife, and eventually, other creatures came knocking at the door. Enter the Mikaelsons, New Orlean's resident vampire family that was always at the center of whatever drama was happening. Right now, something involving all those magically oriented. 

You made it a point to stay clear of the fight. Not because you didn't care– you did– but because it wasn't your fight to be had. That's how you stayed alive in this neighborhood; you knew where to stick your nose and when to stay clear. Besides, all the commotion with one of the Harvest girls (Cassie, you believe her name was) and the witch's distaste of vampires meant tensions were high. You could help the community from the background anyway; you didn't need to make yourself known.

At least, that's what you hoped. But things rarely turned out how you wanted, and this was one of those times. Walking through the back streets of NOLA was never an excellent idea, but it was shorter, and you just wanted to get to the metaphysical supply store before it closed. You needed more laurel leaves to create protection charms around your house, especially with the uptake in strife in the recent year. 

Which is how you came upon a witch killing three vampires in the alley.

You wanted to turn on your heel and leave, but the witch noticed you before you could. You didn't recognize him, so you were unsure what coven he belonged to. He was tall enough to probably tower over you, with golden curly hair and a jaw sharp enough to cut your fingers if you touched it. He was unbelievably handsome, and you hated that it caught your breath.

"You shouldn't be here, luv," he crooned, his English accent thick. He sauntered down the alley, coming up to you with narrowed eyes. 

"I don't recognize you," you countered, shifting your weight as you crossed your arms. It's best not to let him know that you're flustered.

"New in town," he smiled, a cocky grin that told you that he absolutely knew the effect he had on women. It left a bad taste in your mouth. "New Orleans is a big city; I'm surprised you would know everyone."

"I know witches," you said, peering up at him. 

"Ah, are you a magical thing yourself?"

"What do you think?" You arched a brow. He stepped closer, reaching up to twirl a piece of your hair around his finger. You recoiled slightly but didn't pull back. Never show fear; that's one thing this town taught you. 

"I think you're a pretty young thing," he hummed. "I'm Kol." He peered at you as if waiting for you to offer your name. You didn't. 

"Not interested," you pulled back from him, letting the hair he had touched fall back in front of your face. He stepped back into your space.

"I don't know, darling," he smiled, leaning closer so his breath fanned your face. It was minty like he had just had an Altoid. "I think you're interested." You hated admitting that this tall, handsome stranger (such a cliche) was right. And you really hated that if you leaned up slightly, you could feel the warmth from his lips. He stepped back, though, hands in his pockets. The same hands that had used magic to wrangle the undead life of the vampires behind him. You took that as a sign to start to leave, walking backward before turning on your heel and ignoring the gaze of the witch behind you. 

"Never got your name!" He chimed. You smiled to yourself.

"Figure it out yourself."

[2] Cemetery watch

Disgruntled. That's how you felt. Chaos had grown over the past weeks, but you didn't see Kol again. A sliver of disappointment, as you did find him cute, but also a relief. You know enough flirtatious bastards to not want to add more to your life.

You weren't thinking about him today, though. You were thinking about your grandmother, who lived in the cemetery right outside your block. A popular cemetery for Wiccan rituals, it made sense for your grandma (the high priestess of your family) to be buried there with heavy praise. 

You were laying a combination of roses, lavender, and rosemary for protection when the hair on your neck stood up. Feeling a presence, you soon turn around, making eye contact with the stranger who approached you. 

Definitely not a witch; his aura was too dark for that. He was tall, with tousled brown hair and eyes that lingered on you for far too long. He was cute, though, even if he was dangerous.

"Hello darling," he purrs, stalking closer. 

"Can I help you?" You sigh, crossing your arms as you peer at him with suspicion. He wears a cocky smile and a look that tells you he would love to have a taste.

"Don't remember me? I'm hurt," he puts a hand on his chest, feigning pain. You look at him closely, but the only recognition is in the pet name. Darling. Not many people called you darling. 

"Kol," you said. "You're shorter." His face had a hint of shock before settling into amusement. 

"That was uncalled for," he laughed, walking closer to you. In closer proximity, you could see that he was, in fact, very handsome, and he was definitely aware of that. 

"I'm reiterating my previous question, can I help you?"

"When my family sent me on this mission to track down the 'wisest witch in the quarter,' I was not expecting you," he looked down at you with gold-flecked eyes. "The beautiful girl who wouldn't give me her name. Except now I know it's Y/N."

"I thought you were a witch," you took a hesitant step back, trying to create space. 

"Temporarily," he sighed. "Now I'm back in my original form of vampire." The way he said it gave you pause, as if he was resigned to the fact but not happy about it. You could relate. If you lost your magic, you would be devastated. 

"You said something about your family?" you coughed, changing the subject. 

"There's someone working against them, and we would prefer if they don't kill us," Kol shoved his hands in his pockets, looking up at the clouds above. "People tend to hate us, Mikaelsons."

"You're a Mikaelson?" you hissed. It was because of the Mikaelsons your home was in constant disaster. "Why should I help you? Any of you?"

"For the most part, we don't want to cause trouble. It just tends to find us. Helping eliminate a threat means fewer problems in the quarter," Kol sighed, stepping closer. His fingers brushed your cheek, delicate as if touching the grass in a meadow. "Also, you'd get to spend time with me."

"Why would I want to spend time with you?" you breathed, voice wavering slightly. Curse your damn hormones for being swayed by a vampire of all creatures. His thumb came under your chin, allowing him to bring your face closer to his. Kol smelled like fresh snow and evergreens, and you knew that if he leaned a little bit closer, you wouldn't stop him. In the process, likely offend the ghost of your grandmother who was probably rolling her eyes at you right now. Before you could offend all the ancestors with your choices, Kol stepped back, resuming his cocky grin and leaving your breath lodged in your throat. Without a second thought of the implications, you made your decision.

"Fine, I'll help you."

[3] Late night spell-casting

Late nights in the Mikaelson compound meant one thing. Coffee, and lots of it. 

You made a deal with the Mikaelsons after you agreed to help them that in exchange for your time, they had to buy you cafe drinks whenever you liked it. Elijah was the most taken aback, but Kol chuckled as if he found you amusing. Still, they found it a small price, not expecting how much you valued your drinks. Most nights, it was coffee, sometimes tea, or even hot cocoa. Quite honestly, you just liked having the power to make them run around. 

You sat at one of their many couches, a book of shadows in your lap and a notepad in your hands as you made quick notes about possible spells that could combat the evil at hand. A couple of ideas swam in your head, but you wanted to exhaust your options before risking anyone else's life with a botched spell. Still, you had been at it for hours and started getting sleepy. You yawned, feeling your eyes close slightly. Thankfully, footsteps alerting you to the presence of one of the originals had you sitting up and shaking off your fatigue. Unfortunately, that original was Kol with your coffee order. 

Kol was precisely what you thought he would be. Flirtatious, cocky, impulsive, and too attractive for his own good. You hated when murderers were cute; it made life confusing. There were moments, though, when the two of you were performing recon or pouring over spell books that you saw a side of him that only showed when his guard wasn't up. He was calmer, more academic, and a lot more unsure of himself. The only thing you hated about seeing that side is it made you like him more. 

"How's my witchling doing?" he chimed, dropping off your coffee and settling beside you on the couch. You told him that being called darling felt ridiculous, so instead, he found a new nickname, which was even worse. 

"The usual, I suppose," you yawned again, leaning your head against the back of the couch. 

"Take a break."

"You realize it's your life on the line, right?" you huffed, turning to look at him. 

"My life will always be in danger, Y/N," Kol hummed, taking your books out of your lap with a minor protest from you. "That's not going to change tonight."

"Don't underestimate me," you grabbed your cup, taking a deep sip and looking at him over the lid. 

"I would never underestimate you," he grabbed your coffee and stole a sip himself, earning a growl from you. "Half the things you say shock and confuse me."

"It's my charm."

"Let's do something fun," Kol stood up, trying to drag you with him. "Research is bloody boring."

"We have two very different ideas of 'fun,' Mikaelson," you curled up into a ball on the couch, peering up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. An idea sparked in your head, and you turned a devilish smile to the brunette. "How about tarot cards?"

You found an old deck in the compound, creating a space on the table in the central area to lay out the spread. Even though having your cards would be better, you thought you could probably make do with these. You gave Kol the cards to shuffle and watched as he spent meticulous time connecting with the cards before handing the deck back to you. You started laying out the cards on the table, forming a cross with four cards separate on the side. You tucked your legs underneath you, curling up on the floor so you were huddled by the table. Kol joined you, his back against the couch as he peered at you straightening up the cards. 

"You realize you're going to flip them over, right?"

"Shut up, Mikaelson," you chimed, finishing your organization. He watched you with a small smile, and you made the effort to ignore his stare. "We'll start with your Present card."

“Boring,” Kol sing-songed. "Tell me my future."

"I have to go in order, to give an accurate reading."

"Darling, the cards are already laid out; you can do whatever you want," Kol leaned closer to you, squinting his eyes in amusement. "I live my life in futures; who cares about the past?"

Sighing, you decided to obey the nosey vampire and flip over his cards for Future and Near Future. The two cards revealed were the Lovers and Ace of Cups, respectively. 

"In your Future is a strong romantic relationship," you start, pointing out the Lovers card featuring two swans intertwined. "This correlates to the Ace of Cups, which signifies new beginnings. Since the Ace of Cups is in your near future, you'll likely encounter someone you'll soon develop a deep, long-lasting relationship with." You turn your eyes to Kol, raising an eyebrow. "Shocking, considering your personality."

"It's not that shocking," Kol quipped, leaning closer to you. "We're here, aren't we?"

His pupils were enlarged as he gazed upon you, and his glance to your lips told you exactly where his mind was. You couldn't deny you weren't thinking the same thing. It didn't help that Kol was dangerous in an enticing way. Ignoring all rational thought, you leaned in closer, nudging his nose with yours. Your heart was beating erratically, and you heard the sharp intake of breath he took. His fingers traced up your arm, each finger leaving goosebumps in their wake. What were you doing?

"How's the research going?" a voice called from the hallway. You scooted away immediately, but Kol stayed where he was. His jaw clenched as he suppressed a growl. Freya appeared, not aware of the situation and probably not caring anyway. 

"I have a few ideas," you coughed, taking a deep breath to calm your beating heart. 

"Great, I'd love to hear them so I can stop having stressful dreams," Freya chuckled, moving over to the couch. You sent Kol a glance as you passed your journal to Freya. The look he gave you told you that what started wasn't over. And the worst part was you didn't want it to be over. 

[4] Injured after a fight

A headache. That's what you were nursing. 

A sharp ringing pierced through your ears, the lights above you blurring into a bad abstract painting. A figure appeared above you, and you slowly registered that it was calling your name. You squinted your eyes, the action causing a splitting pain as the shape of Kol formed in front of you. Worry creased his brows, and blood splattered his face. 

"Y/N, Y/N, can you hear me?" Kol asked, cradling your head. You nodded, grabbing his arms to help pull yourself up. Chaos was erupting around you, and the stifling smell of magic was enough to knock you out again. That's what had happened. It was an ambush, and despite your abilities, you were blasted back into a wall, probably with a concussion and broken bones. It was times like this when you were envious of a vampire's healing skills. "I need to get you out of here."

"They need our help," you grimaced, catching Klaus ripping off someone's arms in the background. Kol caught your gaze and bothered with a slight smirk. 

"I'm sure Nik is fully capable of handling himself. Plus, my other siblings are here, and Freya called Vincent. They won't miss us."

"I'll be fine," you tried to say, but it ended in a wheeze as the effort of sitting up caused pain in your lungs. 

"You will not. Can you stand?" Kol watched you struggle for a second before picking you up. In a normal situation, you would've complained, but considering all you felt was ow ow ow ow ow you thought better than to complain. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on tightly as he sped out of the scene and back to the compound. Kol laid you gently on the couch, kneeling before you, biting into his wrist and holding it to your lips. "You need to drink."

"I don't want to be a vampire," you mumbled, brushing a hand across your forehead. Your fingers held blood on them, and you became dizzy with that knowledge.

"I won't let that happen now, drink," Kol insisted, his voice having a hard edge. Considering he was a stubborn bastard, you relented. You hesitantly grabbed his wrist and brought it up to your mouth. The blood slid down your throat cleanly, but you had to suppress the urge to gag anyway since it was blood. You felt your bones click into place, and your headache dull to a memory. You finally looked up, catching Kol's gaze on you. How was it intensely erotic to have someone watch you drink their blood? There must be therapy for issues like this, but you didn't really care. How he looked at you was akin to a predator waiting to devour its next meal. You knew if you let him, he would fulfill every potential vampire fantasy one could have. He touched your cheek, touching your lips where his blood was just a second ago. He pulled away, red coating his fingers, and you suppressed a groan when he sucked the leftover blood. 

"Kol," you whispered, your voice raspy. He sat up at eye level, leaning down as if to kiss you. Of course, things weren't that easy, as his family burst into the compound right at that moment. You wanted to let out a scream of frustration but ended up being caught off guard by Klaus dropping a head by the entryway. 

"Glad to see our little witch is okay," Klaus chimed, looking pretty proud of himself. If Kol were a cartoon character, he'd blow smoke out of his ears. 

"I'm alive," you sighed. Klaus walked over, ignoring his brother's glares, and patted you on the shoulder. That was the closest thing to the affection you were getting from the hybrid. As the rest of the family delved into a conversation about the ambush, you finally got up and looked at the original kneeling on the ground before you. "We'll finish this later," you smiled, pretending to ignore the slight growl that left Kol's mouth as you walked off. 

[5] Evil has passed

"I thought you would've left."

Kol stood in the entryway of his bedroom at the Mikaelson home while you stood (guilty) by his bookshelf. 

"I was returning this book I borrowed from you," you said innocently. Putting the book back on the shelf, you turned to the man before you, trying his best to plaster on a convincing smile. The threat has passed, your job was over, and yet you were melancholy. These people had caused problems throughout your home since they arrived, yet your temporary alliance ending was something of sadness. You were tired of pretending it was for any reason other than Kol. Kol started as an annoying individual who sought to drive you up the wall, but now was someone you saw a kinship with. Your long talks on history and adventures across the globe were moments where you saw his guard fall, and you loved every second of it. It helped that he was pretty to look at. 

"I guess this means goodbye then, doesn't it witchling?" Kol sighed, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. You could swear he sounded disappointed, but you didn't want to get your hopes up. 

"Depends," you crossed your arms. "I could be persuaded to come back."

"Persuaded?" Kol inquired, that mischievous glint in his eyes telling you he would ensure a way to keep you around. "Any particular reason?"

"If someone wanted me around, I guess," you smiled, a tiny grin but good enough for Kol to stroll towards you until he towered over your figure. 

"I'll give you a good reason," Kol murmured, a devilish smirk on his lips. "Something that we kept getting interrupted for in the past." He cupped your face in his hands, lowering his lips so they were a hairsbreadth from yours. 

"Don't be a tease," you breathed. Letting out a dark chuckle, he pressed his lips to yours. It was surprisingly light, not hungry like his usual personality. He tasted like a fresh snowstorm and an evergreen forest, and you know you could get drunk on that alone. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you brought him closer to you, deepening the kiss and earning a light groan from the vampire. Kol's hands tangled in your hair, one of them going to hold your waist. Every touch of his was coldfire, and you were so glad that you were finally alone to burn in him. He tilted your head back, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your throat that caused you let out a moan. He nipped the junction of your neck and shoulder, kissing over it until he was back at your lips again, leaving a searing kiss. Kol pulled away, glancing at you with eyes abysmal. "What took you so long to do that?" you breathed, a grin covering your face as Kol laughed, kissing the corner of your mouth. 

"You're all mine now," Kol smiled, kissing you again. "Always and forever."

[bookloover35]

Painted in Scarlet and Seafoam/ Buggy x fem reader.

The waves crashed against the hull of Buggy's floating circus, sending salt spray into the air. You stood on deck, watching as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and crimson. Buggy's crew hustled around you, laughing and bickering as they prepared for the night ahead. The distant sound of laughter and music from Buggy's circus echoed in the background, a constant reminder of the madness you had chosen to embrace.

"You! Y/N!" A sharp, familiar voice snapped you out of your reverie.

You turned around to see Buggy himself striding toward you, his colorful costume as ostentatious as ever. His wild blue hair framed his face like a twisted crown, the bright red paint of his nose gleaming under the fading light. Despite the chaotic energy he radiated, there was something almost magnetic about him that drew you in—a paradox of laughter and cruelty wrapped in one outrageous package.

"What are you doing out here?" Buggy demanded, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Shouldn't you be making yourself useful instead of slacking off?"

"I'm just keeping watch, Captain," you replied calmly, your hand instinctively resting on the hilt of your dagger. You'd been with his crew long enough to know that Buggy valued results over explanations. "In case those Marines get any funny ideas."

Buggy's eyes scanned the horizon, his expression softening ever so slightly. "Right... those idiots wouldn't dare come near me." He cackled, the sound echoing eerily over the waves. But when he turned back to you, his gaze held an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Still... you better watch your back," he added in a low voice, leaning in so close you could smell the hint of rum on his breath. "I can't have my favorite crewmember getting snatched by some two-bit Marine, now can I?"

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your surprise. Buggy wasn't exactly known for his sentimentality. But you'd noticed the way he'd been hovering around you lately—sending you off on fewer dangerous missions, keeping you closer to the ship, and even snapping at anyone who dared insult you.

"Don't worry, Captain," you said, flashing him a grin. "I can handle myself."

Buggy's eyes flicked down to the curve of your lips before darting back up to meet your gaze. For a second, the air between you seemed to sizzle. But then, just as quickly, Buggy pulled back, clearing his throat as though nothing had happened.

"Yeah, well, don't get cocky," he said, his tone sharper than before. "You might be tougher than the rest of these clowns, but you're still just one woman."

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Buggy's protectiveness was almost suffocating at times, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't warm you somewhere deep inside. After all, the Grand Line was no place for softness or sentiment—yet here was Buggy, the feared pirate clown, making sure you stayed safe.

As you turned to head below deck, you felt a sudden tug on your arm. Before you could react, Buggy's disembodied hand—one of his favorite tricks—had latched onto your wrist. The rest of him stood a few feet away, grinning wickedly.

"Wait," he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "I, uh... I've got something for you."

You watched, half amused, half confused, as Buggy's severed hand floated back toward him and retrieved something from his coat pocket. It returned holding a small, delicate trinket—a polished sea glass pendant strung on a leather cord.

Your eyes widened. "Is this... for me?"

Buggy's cheeks darkened, though it was hard to tell with all the makeup. "Don't make a big deal out of it," he grumbled. "I just thought it might... suit you or something. Don't read into it."

You couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips. "Thanks, Buggy. It's... really nice."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Buggy muttered, looking away with a huff. "Now get below deck before I change my mind and send you out to swab the whole ship."

You laughed softly, tucking the pendant into your shirt as you turned to leave. But as you walked away, you couldn't shake the feeling of Buggy's eyes lingering on your back, watching you with an intensity that made your heart race.

Later that night, the crew celebrated with wild revelry, laughter, and ale spilling like water. You found yourself in a quiet corner of the ship, away from the chaos, toying with the sea glass pendant. The moonlight glinted off its smooth surface, casting a soft glow.

"Admiring my gift, huh?" Buggy's voice startled you. You turned to find him leaning against the railing, watching you with a smirk.

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I was just wondering why you'd give something so... pretty to me."

"Because," Buggy said, stepping closer, his tone low and serious, "if any of those morons out there forget you're mine, I want them to remember."

Your breath hitched as Buggy's face hovered just inches from yours, the scent of salt and spice surrounding you. His eyes were half-lidded, the usual madness tempered by something... softer. His gloved hand brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, lingering longer than necessary.

"Buggy..." you began, but whatever you were about to say was cut off when he abruptly pulled away, his usual manic grin snapping back into place.

"Enough chit-chat, Y/N!" he barked, but there was a strange tightness in his voice. "Back to work! Can't have you getting soft on me!"

You watched him storm off, your heart racing in your chest. The Captain was unpredictable, cruel, and utterly insane—but there were moments, like this one, that hinted at something deeper beneath the layers of paint and bravado.

Maybe, just maybe, the infamous Buggy the Clown wasn't as heartless as he wanted everyone to believe.

[hellodragonkit]

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Opinions and Points.

SPOILERS... obviously.

Ok I watched the movie, and ... some things that are my own personal thoughts and possible points I noticed. And some things I have seen others point out to where this is just my over all opinion and its kinda long.

The backstory lets not forget beetle is a unreliable narrator as proven by the first movie as Julliard and Harvard did not exist while he was alive, and unless he was possessing someone when they graduated its unlikely he said the truth. - so I don't think he gave us the full backstory. Maybe yes he did marry her, but given he never dies on screen and previously stated point. I just find it hard to believe that he drank a poison then had enough strength to chop her up as much as she was, if it was actually effecting him. i find it far more possible he had already been poisoned so often he was immune at that point. and was just pissed his new wife tried to do him in. Also in first movie it was suggested with the red mark he hung himself... maybe he tried to take over the death cult and had to do himself in for a quicker death?

the Newspapper. Yes it did say people were falsely accused of offing themselves at death, I think this was to help clear up the plot hole that would have been with Astrid's dad. And maybe be a red haring for Beetle. Next few points are BeetleBabes related so if you don't like the ship, please move on.

He gave her autonomy in his power. During the therapist scene when he "sewn" her mouth shut, it was less truly sewn and more duct taped. She had the ability to remove it, yeah he had it stick long enough for a gag, but not much more. He didn't force her.

The Contract and Nullification of it. Beetle wrote the contract, and he worked as a dead con man for years, he knew the handbook inside and out. He wrote up the contract for Lydia to sign and save her daughter, knowing there was a Massive Loop hole. even blowing a hole in the "back door" of the Neither to insure the loop hole was as big as it could be the second he had her sign, obviously with a bit of theatrics for both signing and explosions. But would we expect anything else from him?

Delia calling him: when Delia died, she called him asking to go to Lyd's wedding. He did so no questions no strings. Any other deal he always asked for something in return but for Lyd's step mom he didn't charge a dime, possibly because he felt Lyds would be upset if she missed it, and didn't get to say good bye.

Rory Beetle obviously didn't like him, could tell he was scamming Lyds, and yeah he probably could have sent him off but instead had to prove to Lydia why that guy was bad, hence why he used truth serum. He need to make sure she wouldn't go back to that guy once he was gone again. It was even hinted he heard her talking in the graveyard rushing to the church that she was not ready to marry.

He planed to go away. His song at the end, was not one of love and togetherness. MacArthur Park is more of loss and remorse. He was saying Goodbye to Lydia! Not permanently anyway

He set up sending away Deloris and helped the contract become Null When Deloris burst in through the door, the wind didn't effect Lydia, or Beetle, or Delia but the book slid to Astrid as easily as it had moved away, He moved it to her, conveniently on the page to summon sand-worms and how to brake the contract.

He stalled for the cops I find it funny how in the first movie he summoned a Man of the cloth and the guests. But this time he had both, and unlike the first time he wasn't rushing... he took his time to sing a whole song and to let the Neither cops show up, possibly also baiting Deloris to take care of her but I'm still not sure on that bit. ether way He had won, he had Lydia, the pastor, and guests. But instead he did a song and dance, a song that I already pointed out was one more of goodbye.

He let Lydia send him away. Beetle loves to make a entrance, he also may love to make a exit. he has also shown he can silence someone for just saying his name once. But instead of silencing her or taking over her voice as he had before. He started a dramatic plea, showing her he was getting sent away, showing her he was going to let her send him off.

The ending given the fact he may have over heard about Rory, And all the other notes, he could probably see Lydia wasn't wanting marriage at that time. But I also feel... he just likes the chase. What fun would it be if the Coyote already caught the road runner? he didn't mind her sending him away, because it means he could keep trying to get her to call him willingly. Over all this is just my ramblings that I don't have any friends irl who may appreciate them or be able to properly counter lol And if you made it this far thank you. And I hope you liked the movie as much as I did.

[writingdevil]

Hiiii!!! Your stp writings are so good!!!! I love, love the way you write opportunist and cold!!! I was wondering if you could maybe write about a ship between them hehe 👀

(Thank you! I always wonder if the way the way I write Oppy and Cold is okay, so I'm glad to hear that! They'd be a really interesting ship, so they'll be fun to write for! Enjoy!)

(Is this the first time I need a warning for one of these? Warning-Blood, injury, knife play I guess)

"I win!"

Opportunist laughed in victory, slamming his final card down onto the deck, before his smile fell at the bored expression Cold wore across the table.

He was resting his chin on his palm, fiddling with one card between his fingers, the rest of his deck laying on the table for Opportunist to see, clear as day.

Opportunist chuckled awkwardly, reaching out to take the deck in his hands, shrugging as he went, "Maybe you'll win next round?"

Cold rolled his eyes. "I don't think so."

Opportunist's shoulders slumped at the empty tone of Cold's voice. He had hoped that Cold would enjoy cards, but it clearly wasn't as stimulating to him as it was to Opportunist, who couldn't get enough of any card game.

"You never know," Opportunist encouraged still, "I'm sure there's a card game out there that you won't be able to get enough of."

Cold snorted at his words, flicking the card in his grasp at him. Opportunist barely blinked before he had snatched it into the deck. Cold shoved the rest of his deck towards him as he said, "You said that card games were full of strategy and bluff. I'm afraid I can't see the appeal that you and Skeptic see."

Opportunist waved him away, pretending not to be offended. "Oh come on, it's fun once you get the hang of it. I promise you'll love it."

"Love staring at shapes and numbers while we sit in awkward silence?"

Opportunist looked at him in surprise, before sighing in defeat, beginning to silent shuffle the deck, if only for something for his hands to do.

Opportunist had been determined to get Cold to enjoy playing cards with him-or, well, just to enjoy being around Opportunist.

It seemed like Cold hopped from one bird to another everyday, from causing chaos with Contrarian, to trailing after Hero or Paranoid, to even pestering Smitten and Stubborn. There just appeared to be some sort of activity that Cold enjoyed doing with each flockmate-everyone except Opportunist.

Something about it left a sour taste in his mouth, and he intended to fix that. Opportunist wasn't even sure why he cared so much. Who cares what Cold does in his spare time? What does it matter if Cold didn't give Opportunist the same time he gave others?

Opportunist told himself it wasn't a big deal, but then he saw the way Cold would rather be anywhere else right now, and his chest felt a pang of pain.

He busied himself with shuffling the cards more intensely, trying to convince himself that what Cold thought of him shouldn't matter that much. Cold was reckless and illogical most of the time, who couldn't try and see the bigger picture and possibilities if his life depended on it.

But at the same time-Opportunist couldn't help but admire Cold's unflinching attitude, how nothing seemed to weigh him down, and how he was unapologetic in his stony demeanor, despite the others frustrations with him.

For that, Opportunist was trying his hardest to get closer to Cold, but that was turning out to be a fruitless task.

He didn't tear his gaze away from the cards in his hands as he said, "If this is truly not enjoyable for you, you're welcome to leave," hoping he hid the disappointment in his voice well.

A few seconds passed, but Cold hadn't moved yet, and when Opportunist looked up, he was surprised to see Cold staring at him with narrowed eyes.

Opportunist found himself unable to look away from his steely eyes, until Cold suddenly shot to his feet, barely glancing at Opportunist as he said, "I have an idea," and then walked off.

Opportunist blinked in confusion, trying to wrap his head around what was happening, until Cold returned, one hand behind his back and an intensity in his eyes.

"I propose we add something to make the game more-interesting," Cold suggested, and although Opportunist was slightly nervous, he just showed Cold nothing but enthusiastic interest, resting his head against his palm as he said, "I'm listening."

Cold's eyes flickered with delight as he pulled his hand out-and Opportunist tried to hide his flinch at the sight of a knife in Cold's hand.

Cold swung the knife side to side as he calmly explained, "Every time we play a trick card, the other person has to toss and catch the blade." To demonstrate, Cold effortlessly tossed the knife up into the air, and caught it without looking at it once, and Opportunist found it was an effort to not stare at the action.

"What does the winner get?"

Cold's eyes shone. "To see the other bleed and keep playing."

This was dumb. This was beyond dumb.

But the thought of disappointing Cold further had him smiling and saying, "I'm in."

Cold's mouth quirked into a smile, and then he sat back down, looking more invested than ever, setting the knife down next to them, and Opportunist tried not to stare at it.

Although they all knew that they would probably nevee see the blade again, some of the others still grew antsy around any of their normal knives. Cold was actually forbidden from roaming the kitchen and cooking, or just handling knives in general, and Opportunist was just flat out not allowed in the area.

Still, he was decent with a knife, and if he stayed calmed, then he might not lose all his fingers today.

He swiftly dealt out the cards, and placed the first card down, before checking his own deck. Two sevens and an ace-not bad, but it all depends on how he plays them, and on whatever cards Cold had.

Cold placed a card down, and Opportunist shivered when it was just a normal one.

Opportunist's eyes flicked between his cards and Cold's weirdly focused gaze, and the heat of those eyes had him going, 'Fuck it,' and he placed a seven down with a sharp smile.

Cold didn't appear shocked-but when does he ever- and he didn't break eye contact with Opportunist as he took the blade, and flipped it in the air.

He caught it by the tip of the metal, the handle bouncing up and down, before he unceremoniously dropped it with a clatter.

Opportunist gave him an impressed look. "Well done."

"Not quite," Cold retorted with, and Opportunist was confused until Cold showed him his hand. It was easy to miss, but then Cold stuck his thumb out, and that was when Opportunist saw a small cut on the finger, a small bead of blood dribbling down it.

It was hardly a serious injury, but the sight of the blood sent Opportunist's mind spinning, and he wonder how much pain Cold could actually endure before he couldn't dull it down anymore.

He gave Cold a pout of fake sympathy, and mockingly said in a childish tone, "Aww, do you want me to kiss it better?"

"Keep playing," Cold just instructed, but his voice was a little too rigid and firm in that moment than normal, but Opportunist didn't comment on it.

He placed a normal card down, and it was smooth sailing for the next few minutes, but Opportunist then heard a 'plop', and he looked up, to see that the blood from Cold's thumb was dripping onto the table.

He stared at it. He didn't know why, but he couldn't stop staring at the blood. Maybe it was because he doesn't often see Cold actually bleed, despite his destructive behavior. Did he do this around others? Or was Opportunist just special right now?

The thought was driving him so mad that he jumped in surprise when Cold put a card down and announced, "Ace, change to hearts."

Opportunist's gaze snapped back to the deck, but sure enough, Cold had placed an ace down.

He chuckled, because he wasn't sure what else to do, other than send Cold a confident smile, stretching his arm out as if getting ready for a workout. Cold didn't speak-just looked at him expectedly.

Opportunist felt his face begin to hurt from how hard he was maintaining his smile, but he ignored it as he picked up the knife, staring directly at Cold, just as the other had when it had been his turn.

"Ready?" Cold asked, a hint of a tease in his voice, and it only egged him further on. He took a deep breath, looked Cold right in the eyes, and tossed the knife up into the air.

He told himself to remain calm, because a clear mind was how you survived dicey situations like this-but then his mind betrayed him, and he glanced at Cold's hand again, only to find him squeezing more blood out of his cut, and it dripped down his wrist, right in front of Opportunist, whose face suddenly flushed.

He choked on a gasp, before the knife came back down.

He smelled the metal before he felt the pain.

But when he did feel it, he hissed loudly as the knife landed right on his frozen palm, slicing it open. His body twitched and convulsed with pain, but Opportunist was determined not to panic and look weak, so he forced himself to remain seated, his hand burning as blood began coating his hand.

He tried to give Cold a big smile, but even he knew it wasn't convincing, but still, he tried. He laughed, blinking back tears and trying not to move his hand too much. "Fun! How fun this is!" he said cheerfully, choking on whimpers that threatened to come up his throat.

He gave Cold a wobbly smile, who actually looked a little surprised at him. Opportunist counted that as a win-that he managed to alter Cold's expectations of him.

Cold stared at him for a few seconds, his gaze also lingering on Opportunist's bleeding palm. He actually looked at a loss for words. The heat of his eyes on his palm was almost enough to soothe the searing pain he was in, but then Cold suddenly shot to his feet, his face unbothered but his eyes wild, attention never leaving his bloody hand as he shakily said, "I'll get bandages, then we're finished."

Horror shot through Opportunist, at the thought of Cold walking away, deeming him as nothing more than a scared little birdie who couldn't manage to be interesting for even a few minutes. Opportunist wasn't ready for Cold to discard him like that.

So he ignored the pain shooting up his arm now, and slammed a card down on the deck. "Ace," he declared, smirking up at Cold, whose feathers bristled at the look, "change to spades."

Cold held his gaze for a moment, before excitement flashed in his eyes.

He sat back down and picked up the knife.

[acourtofthought]

"Sarah has clearly set them up to fail."

That's gwynriel not elriel. It'll become very clear if you get out of your echo chambers and look at the big picture without bias.

You know, I wasn't even going to bother answering this because I don't, nor will I ever agree and it's a waste of my time to continue proving how wrong you are when I've given textual evidence over and over to support why I think E/riel is over.

But the "get out of your echo chambers and look at the big picture without bias" line continued running through my mind. .

I have a question for you.

Who the hell are you?

Seriously. Are you a prized literary genius? Are you older than me? Do you have a higher IQ than I do? More life experience? Have you read more books?

It's WILD that you, a random faceless person, thinks you are entitled to tell ME what I'm thinking, doing, or not doing when it comes to this series. "Look at the big picture without bias". I have done that and just because you are so incredibly desperate for your ship to happen doesn't mean I am incapable of stepping back to comprehend what I'm reading. Like I've said before, I didn't even join this fandom to prove Elucien was endgame, I literally started my blog trying to argue why Elain and Az could still end up together if that's the direction Sarah wanted to take things but it was because of my own thoughts (not ANYONE elses) that I came to the conclusion E/riel was not happening. Literally, I had to go back about a year ago and delete some of my original E/riel posts because I realized how poor of an argument I made after doing additional research.

You don't know me but I can assure you I am stubborn enough not to let anyone influence my own thoughts. I am not part of some "echo chamber" where I will only find "Yes" people and I think even Eluciens and Gwynriels would tell you the same as I've had disagreements from time to time with them as well based on our varying interpretation of the books.

So you're wasting your time if you think you are going to hold any sway over changing my mind or my opinions especially when I've got absolutely no reason to think you are more capable of understanding the books than I am.

[kidnappedbycartoons]

Back on my Zutara tip again

You already know why I'm here. Zutara is on my mind. I know a lot of people talk about the Southern Raiders episode when it comes to them, and I get it. It's another one of their big moments. It's a pivotal point in their relationship. You cannot talk about them without talking about that episode, literally impossible. But, I want to focus on the little details after that episode. Because they are just as important to the ship as that episode is.

So, the next episode after is the Ember Island Players. Besides, what I find so funny about this episode is how, we are able to see how close Zuko and Katara have become, but at the same time we are seeing the distance between Katara and Aang. I laugh.

So, I'm trying to figure out why Zuko specifically wanted to sit next to Katara. No this might be small to some other people, but I see the interaction between Zuko and Aang about the whole seat thing, as a demonstration of the maturity difference between the two. At first, Aang tries to get Zuko to give up the seat ("I wanted to sit there"), but it's literally not a big deal. And Zuko tells him this ("Just sit next to me. What's the big deal?"). Like Aang, baby, you can handle not sitting next to Katara for a few hours. And then he sits down and he's sulking. Like...it's really not a big deal.

Besides that though, we are able to see just how comfortable they have become with each other. She's joking around with him, teasing him about the actor's portrayal of him. Katara even checks up on him after seeing the scene between him and Iroh. There's clearly no bad blood between either of them. And, I'm not going to comment on that stupid play, because we all know who the writers were targeting. And, I don't see anything wrong with the Zuko and Katara inching away from each other and being a bit uncomfortable with the actors romantic scene. Because, they just became friends, y'all. Let's give them time to chill. But you see, that's the beauty in this. We are seeing the two of them become more comfortable, more open, more friendly with each other as these episodes progress. There is such a clear development between them.

During Sozin's Comet, once again. Zuko and Katara have gotten closer, but Katara and Aang don't seem to be on the same page as much anymore. We see them arguing much more in the later half of book 3 than we ever did throughout the whole series. But funnily enough, while Zuko and Katara were on opposite sides for the majority of the series, they are closer than ever during the later half of book 3.

Anyway, I just love these episodes for these two, because we really see the trust between them. Like, it's in the little details. Katara is the one to invite Zuko into the group hug. Katara is the one that initiates teasing with Zuko, by bringing up the baby picture that she thought was him but it was actually Ozai. When Zuko tells Katara to let Aang go, she does. She listens to him. She trusts his advice. Katara is the one to ask him what to do after Aang dips out on everyone. You just know for a fact, that book two Katara would have never done any of this. That's what we call development. For some reason, after the Southern Raiders episode, there's this silent trust between the two that is just so amazing to watch. There was a bond built there. Really, the bond was built back in the catacombs, but then it got destroyed in the catacombs, but then it got rebuilt in the Southern Raiders episode. Love to see it.

We all know the scene where Katara reassures Zuko before he goes to talk to Iroh. But, like I said, it was give and take between these two. Zuko had Katara's back when she went to confront her mother's killer, she has his back when he's going to reunite with his uncle. We see the two of them have each other's backs, be each other's support. One person wasn't carrying all the emotional burden in this dynamic, both of them did. Also, I just love how the first person Zuko thought of to help him with Azula, was Katara. There was no hesitation at all. He knew what Azula was capable of, but he also knew what Katara was capable of too. He knew who to have by his side. And that's trust.

During the battle with Azula, not even, before that. Zuko could tell that Azula is not all the way there mentally, so he chooses to take her on by himself, instead of putting Katara at risk of being severely hurt. Zuko taking that lightning bolt for Katara was important. This has been said before, but it had to be her. It couldn't be anybody else on the team. It was her, she was the first one in the team that he connected with. She was the one that he had to work overtime to gain her trust. She was the one that felt the most betrayed by him after what happened in the catacombs. It could not be anybody else. It would not have had the same impact if it was anybody else. Literally, imagine somebody else on the team in Katara's position, would it really have hit the way that it needed to? No. Zuko literally risked his life to save her without even a second thought.

And after she healed him, the intimacy between them was something different. The softness in his voice as he thanks her, the tears in her eyes, the gentleness with which she held him. Do y'all see it? Something that's just very interesting with Zuko and Katara is the balance between them. Like, it's a clear cause and effect between them, if that makes sense?

Zuko apologizes to Katara and then she offers to heal his scar. Zuko betrays Katara's trust, she is rightfully upset with him, he works to earn her trust. Zuko has Katara's back as she goes to confront the source of her trauma, she has his back when he's preparing to go face Iroh. Zuko takes little lightning for my girl, Katara heals him. You see what I mean? Both of them are putting an effort in building this relationship. The bond between them is also an integral part of both of their stories. Now, I'm not saying that Avatar should have ended with the two of them getting together. I am on the side that says that the ending of the show should have been the team looking out at the sunset, not a make out session between a twelve and fourteen year old. But, what I am saying, is that the potential is there. The ingredients are there. There is something magical between these two. And if not just the fans, but the voice actors, and some of the writers could see it, I don't know what to tell you if you can't see it.

[witchinatree]

making a list of my favorite quote/ones that stuck with me from each season 1 episode because i feel like it

(i'm starting this after episode 4 but it will be a WHILE before i post it)

episode 1: "bones are a lie peddled by Big Milk" - alice

i love this one because it's a great introduction to alice i think. also it radiates spiral so i hope we get avatar alice not dead alice (isnt there a podcast called alice isnt dead?)

episode 2: "If I wanted to clear the canvas, I would have used turpentine." - statement

this one was just fucking powerful and caught me so off guard like 😶

episode 3: "What would I do without her?" - statement

the norris statement <3 it feels like martin asking what he would do without jon which makes mag200 a lot sadder and i love them

episode 4: "Perhaps you shall prove a stronger will than I, and will yet find it within yourself to destroy this hungry thing of wood and cat-gut." - statement

augustus sighting #1 and we immediately get jonah magnus expressing that it may be possible for gwen bouchard unknown family member to overcome the eye's hunger spooky violin

episode 5: "Voyeur needs to be seen to be believed." - statement

i feel like this one is pretty reflective of how the seasons gonna go? like if you explain the events of tma (mag200 specifically) no one's gonna believe you, it must be seen to be believed!! and also seen!! like the eye!!!

episode 6: "Not sca- This isn’t some poxy blood test, some little pinprick, this is hundreds, thousands of razor sharp points pushing into your flesh." - needles

i love needles so much and i thought this was really funny because it was like "you dont find me scary!! what the fuck!!!" just kind of toddler michael energy

episode 7: "It’s not like we’re wrestling with tape recorders and manila folders." - celia

STOP IT. celia you can't say that you just cannot!!!!!! you Know™ too much maam i cant with you

episode 8: "Pleasure to meet you both. I’m Gerry!"

RAGHHHHH OH MY GOD GERRY!!!! i love him so much and idk how to handle him being alive in the tmagp universe!! gertrude too but idk we got so much of her in tma and not nearly enough of gerry

episode 9: "And honestly, it’s kind of compelling by this point." - sam

they got him 😔😔 the horrors got sam 😔😔 also i found this to be an interesting contrast to jon's heavy resistance in season 1 like he was being compelled but he wasn't going to let anyone know that vs sam "its kinda compelling to trauma dump on this paperwork :]" how is he somehow even more victim material

episode 10: "Gosh you’re sexy, here’s a twenty for your trouble.” - alice

does this count as a quote if shes also quoting what she thinks sam should say? idk anyway i love her i would say that to her if given the chance and it was very silly. i will not be addressing bonzo i am scared.

episode 11: "...Thank you, Alice" - gwen

dyhard dyhard dyhard dyhard dyhard. okay also, the way she CRUMBLED at the idea of anyone doing anything nice for her please someone give her a hug and let it be ME. this series is tossing me back and forth between sam & alice (what is their ship name) and dyhard but this put me back to dyhard

episode 12: "You know it's rude to have absolutely no game?" - alice

she's so fucking funny i need her to be okay so badly!!!! i don't think even tim made me laugh as much as she makes me chuckle and this one really got me. it's hard to write such a comedic character in a podcast since you only have the voice but they really nailed it i adore her

episode 13: "Is it my fault?" - gwen

each of these episodes just reveal a little bit more about how loving and soft gwen is and idk i love her so unbelievably much so seeing that she felt guilt about the bonzo stuff just made her so much more real :(

episode 14: "Christ, they’re in the walls…" - statement

theyre in the walls!!! theyre in the goddamn walls!!!!! anyway that got me because i realized the hole before the statement said it. made more sad than scared tbh

episode 15: "Babies are cool!" - alice this entire interaction between her and sam & celia was so awkward, she is so obvious and i love her anyway

episode 16: "It’s not like I was holding doors open for Mr Bonzo or anything." - gwen my wife is so so so stupid but i adore her AND this gives room for character development. i wish she did not do that though. i love when characters are flawed and have depth but i struggled to get past THIS flaw of hers

episode 17: "Thanks, I guess. Not exactly the same, though, is it?" - celia shes talking TO JON IN THE COMPUTER. SHE KNOWS. i lost my damn mind i love her i love her. get the gay people out of the puter please queen

episode 18: "Why would I need to talk to you? Your work is satisfactory. Unless you have a work-related issue I could assist you with?" - lena solidified my opinion that lena is the best boss to ever have, i adore her and i would want to work for her if she wasn't the boss of Creepy Establishment #1

episode 19: "You’re going to throw it in the fishtank, aren’t you?" - alice colin's behavior is like really worrying BUT i'm glad he's back. i was not convinced he was still alive

episode 20: "I suppose it’s too late for remorse, isn’t it? And why should I be sorry? This is what I deserve!" - ink5oul/statement they reminded me of jon a lot, like especially his season 3/4 transformation when he doesn't quite know everything but he knows he isn't who he was in season 1 anymore, i hope we see more of their life and they can be helped :(

episode 21: [Tape Recorder Bites Ink5oul] - audio description i know it's not technically a quote but this is just so fucking funny. why does it have teeth. what does this mean for the lore. holy shit.

episode 22: "Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood" - celia. knawing at the walls of my enclosure i am so not okay. i'm not okay. wtf. wtf. wtf. they're real. wtf.

episode 23: "I had a favorite mug. It said “love you, bitch” and had a picture of a drunk dog on it." - alice. okay i just love this entire interaction because gwen got to open up a little bit and my dyhard heart is so full

episode 24: "I am told that children like me, and I’ve always held the opinion that the world would be a better place if everyone just thought more." - basira. once again this whole interaction was so fun but like idk i loved hearing basira somewhat happy and in a safe place :] my wife <3

episode 25: " I am trying to help, to save us from this goddamned fucking nightmare machine!" - colin. MAN I REALLY WAS ROOTING FOR YOU!!! I WAS SO CONFIDENT YOU WEREN'T GONNA DIE!!!! it's over

episode 26: "I was worrying for a moment that you were Magnussing." - alice. MAGNUSSING BEING CANON MADE ME SAY IT EVEN MORE I'VE SAID IT LIKE TWICE ALREADY

episode 27: "You didn’t tell me the room was labelled, “Archivist.”" - celia. oooooh somebody's got TRAUMAAAAA LMAO

episode 28: "So you’re telling me you know nothing about an OIAR external contract being found with the bodies of two tattooed thugs who met rather grisly ends?" - TREVOR HERBERT???? anyway. ink5oul mention!!!!! i hope they stop killing people it's really rude

episode 29: "Alice, er… we’ve got to talk. It’s important." - teddy. i knew it was over for him but i didn't think it was gonna be THIS bad??? bye babe i guess??? 😭

episode 30: how do i even pick. the whole fucking episode. i can't. i am in a state of shock. i need to lay down for 30 years.

[bengiyo]

Don't Care for an Old Man's Underwear Ep 9 Stray Thoughts

This watch made possible by @isaksbestpillow.

Last time, Mika recognized that Kakeru felt bad about how he snapped at them and opened up to his dad after talking to Daichi. As a result, she sent Makoto with Kakeru to the local festival with Daichi, and they all managed to make huge progress. Madoka followed them because he thought Daichi was seeing Kakeru, but Makoto cleared that up and the two gays are back together properly. Kakeru and Makoto understand each other better, and got to have a great moment where Makoto taught him how to use a pop gun to win a cute prize. Also, Makoto confronted his senior properly, and urged him to update after they solved a big problem.

I'm with Hasegawa on wanting to resolve the core issue that Kakeru hates the baseball team players.

I kinda wanna see what Furuike taking over for Shimura looks like now.

I'm glad the boys listened to Kakeru and tried to receive what he was giving them.

DON'T MIND 👍

I do feel a little for Furuike and am happy that he's trying. I'm glad Makoto started to change before he reached that age.

Oh shit! Is Moe family??

Look how far we've come. Moe is trusting Makoto with a big emotional ask. He didn't flub it, and was even able to offer praise!

The sign is coming down!!

I love these boys coming back a few days later after reflecting on what Kakeru said to share what they've learned. That's one of the kindest things one can do.

These girls walked in ready to fight these boys for Kakeru, and I fucks with that for real.

So much for that ship! Ookubo is already seeing someone.

DON'T MIND 👍

Not surprised that Madoka was an athlete at all.

He's holding Daichi's hand in public!!

I continue to love Daichi more than any other man we've met in these shows in a long time. I just love the way he cut through the bullshit and asserted that neither of them was giving up on building a future they want together.

I'm so ready to see Makoto at a concert!

Kakeru and Moe teasing Makoto about going on a date with Mika is such a lovely reward for all the effort everyone has put in.

I love Mika teasing Makoto for walking in the side of traffic after copying Daichi.

Wow @lurkingshan wasn't kidding. It does look like Kakeru is gonna fuck that bear.

I do love the siblings checking on each other.

I'm getting so emotional about Mika's explanation of how RANDOM gave her an outlet for something to be passionate about when she was in a dark place and feeling alone. It was so important to remind ourselves how Makoto used to be, and I'm glad he reflected on what role he played in that, and is able to thank the band for helping his wife and partner.

I'm really glad we've seen two shows this year that have women in the 40s and even 60s loving and enjoying boy bands.

I adore Makoto. Of course his bias would be Kanata, the one helping the others.

I'm so glad Mika has fandom friends her age to hang out with after a concert. I'm going to be thinking about how Mika described Makoto growing into someone unlikeable.

He did research! Look how happy she is!

Kakeru is such a little brother.

This family is fun again, and can let Makoto do dad things. They can trick him into a treat, and then Makoto gets to do fun dad things now like limit them to one parfait to share!

I am undone. Madoka recognized Daichi's backdoor proposal earlier, and seeing Daichi yearn for what the Okita family has pushed him to propose directly. I'm so happy for Daichi, and I'm so happy for the Okita family that they could be part of that moment after everything we've been through. Makoto didn't say anything this time and only applauded at the end. I know that parfait tasted great that night.

I'm so happy for Mihoko, too. You know she has worried so much about Daichi, and is thrilled by this engagement.

Oh boy, Daichi's dad is coming back next week.

I love love love how so much of this is about how there's always enough love to give. The end of the date was an opportunity for some out of house family time, and of course Daichi and his partner are welcome. And it's that yearning for that which pushed Madoka over the edge. I love that the Okita family got to be part of that moment. So much of this episode was just constant payoff for all the work everyone has put in. Kakeru has a place for himself at school. Makoto has the respect of his team. The kids like their dad again. Mika likes her husband again. We are a team now. We can face whatever comes next in these final two episodes.

[nidianddeepspace]

Into that Tender Night

❥ Xavier x OC ❥ An OC remembering loving moments with the Star Baby ❥ FLUFFINESS - he's taking good care of MC after an injury ❥ College/University AU, the (my) MC and Xavier as University Students ❥ Inspiration taken from Tender Night card because I started the game after the banner and couldn't get it but I'm not BITTER

After a fun night on the dance floor leads to a clumsy accident, a young woman spends the night with Xavier, who helps her to nurse a swollen ankle.

Word Count: 2.2k

"Just so we're clear - I told you that inviting me to the spring formal was a bad idea. This just proves it."

To be honest, it wasn't really your fault that there was a huge ice pack resting on my ankle, or that there was a good chance this sprain would make going to class difficult for me until it healed up. But you weren't the one who urged me to go out on the dance floor, singing Dancing Queen my heart out while moving my body without a care on the world, and you certainly weren't the one who made it so that I tripped over the sweep of my emerald evening gown, falling hard on my precious ankle.

But you were the one who asked if I wanted to go the event and as such, you accepted responsibility for my predicament.

As sweet as that was, my ankle still hurt like hell.

"The swelling is pretty bad," you said to me, gently inspecting the damage. I tried my hardest to remain calm even though it was quite painful. "Getting back to the dorm will be pretty difficult."

"I'll be fine. I can just hobble to the bus with everyone's help."

It was a bus that took up to the fancy schmancy hotel our spring formal was held in, the plainness of the school bus juxtaposed with the elegant dresses, suits, and ties the passengers were wearing. You were the best dressed in my eyes, in your white dress shirt, blue and black striped tie, and dress pants. I'd never seen you look so elegant before - and though it sounds cliche, you took my breath away.

I thought I'd make due, but my ankle hurt too much and everyone else was too afraid to helping me move for fear that it would just make it worse. That's when you stepped in, intend of cutting down my suffering as much as possible right. "I'm going to see if we can reserve a room for tonight - that way you can relax your ankle for a while, enough so that the swelling goes down." "Ah..." My blood ran cold. "Xavier, we don't need to do that. Don't you think that's a bit much?"

"If you continue to walk on that ankle, it'll get even worse. It's better for you to stay in one spot for a while and take it easy." Your voice was as soft as it usual once, but there was a firmness there - you were taking decisive action. "The others can tell the bus driver we aren't coming back."

I tried getting you to reconsider, but you'd already made up your mind. And our friends, who had long shipped us together over the course of our time at university, were all too eager to cheer you on. All I could do was sit there with a swollen ankle, praying for the strength to keep it together.

Somehow the Palmer House, the hotel the spring formal in, had available rooms that night. At that moment I truly believed that some higher power was conspiring to give us alone time together and I just had to deal with it. At least they planned it happened in a nice hotel room, decorated with elegant pieces of furniture, all in a big abundant space.

"I'm sorry, but there was only a room with one king size bed left." You carried me on your back and took me to the elevator, much to the shock and delight of the few guests still mingling around the hotel. You really didn't want me on my ankle anymore. "You don't mind, do you?" "Ah...no, it's fine." But it wasn't fine. We'd taken naps together - usually in my room, but sometimes in yours - but there was something about a hotel room that upped the stakes a little higher. "Besides, it's a king-sized bed right? Plenty of room for sharing."

"If you're uncomfortable, I can sleep on a chair or on the floor," you assured me. "You know me, I can sleep anywhere."

"It's okay...besides, you paid for the room. It's only fair that you should get to sleep in the bed...right?"

You chuckled with a nod as the elevator doors opened again. You were so calm and I was fighting for my life.

Our room was at the very end of the hall, in a secluded corner. You gently placed me on the bed, making sure I was okay before closing the door behind us. You made your way back to me, and I got a secret thrill out of watching you lift the hem of my dress, looking at the state of my ankle.

"It's still swollen. We should put an ice pack on it. I'll go back to the reservation desk and see if they have one," you told me.

I don't know what possessed me to do it, but I grabbed your wrist, pulling you back to me. Maybe I felt guilty over causing you so much trouble - you reserved a luxury hotel room just so I wouldn't have to walk back to the dorm! - and i didn't want to burden you even more. But the moment I realized what I'd done, my nervousness grew tenfold.

"What's the matter?" You voice was quiet and calm - always so peaceful.

"You...don't have to do that," I stammered, averting my gaze. "It's already late and you're probably tired."

"It's okay." Your voice was as warm as a loving, gentle hug. One I wish I had the courage to ask from you. "I'll be back as soon as I can. I promise." And you did. Before I knew it, you'd come back to the room with two ice packs - one for now, and one for later. I watched as you grabbed a nearby ottoman and cushion, carefully placing my swollen ankle on top of the ice pack. "There...how does that feel?"

"It stings a little, but it's fine." You sat beside me. My face heated up when I realized your tie was loosened and a the top buttons of your dress shirt were undone. I could only see your bare collarbone, but that was enough to send me into a tizzy. "Thank you...for doing this for me. I feel bad."

"You're welcome." I'm glad I was sitting - that smile of yours always made me weak in the knees. "Did you need me to get you some water, or..." "I just need you to stay here with me." The moment my words formed in my brain, the sentence was already halfway out of my mouth. "Ah...well, what I mean is that...you know what? Forget I said that..."

"I'm not going anywhere." The fondness of me in your eyes...it made everything about me go soft. "It'll be okay. We're the only ones here."

"Right." I looked down at my ankle, still as swollen as ever. "Well, the two of us and my swollen ankle. I told you I was a terrible dancer."

"You did say that, but you were also lying," you said with a smile. "What happened out there was a freak accident. If you want to blame someone, blame your dress for ruining your graceful moments on the dance floor."

I laughed, spying the tiny rip at the bottom of my dress - where the spike of my heel tore at the fabric. "Or I could blame you for convincing me to come with you to the formal in the first place."

"Maybe." The smirk is tiny, but it's there. "Maybe not."

"But since you're taking such good care of me and have put us up in this lovely room, I'll forgive you this one time," I teased.

"Thank you - that's very gracious of you." There was no hiding that hint of sarcasm in your voice.

We shared a laugh for a bit, chuckles giving way to an uncomfortable silence. I sat with my hands in my lap, not knowing what to say. My eyes gazed all over the room. The large windows offered a view of the quiet city below, the street lights golden and misty, the streets bare, save for a passing car or two.

"What time do we have to leave tomorrow?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"We don't have to leave tomorrow. I booked the room until Sunday morning." My eyes went wide at how easily you said that. "We don't have class tomorrow, and you need plenty of time for your ankle to get better before you can walk on it. So, it made sense to book another day."

"Yeah, but..." I tried to keep calm, even as my prospect of being alone with you, in this hotel, for two nights threatened to swallow me whole. Never mind that your thinking was sound. "That's too much, isn't it?"

You shook your head. "No. Not for you." You patted my head, offering me a gentle smile. "It's okay, really. Don't over think it."

"Okay, but..." I pinched my dress. "You're really going to make me wear a dress for the next two days?"

"Oh - I hadn't thought of that." You laughed, but I could see that crimson flush appearing on your cheeks and on the tips of your ears. "Don't worry. I'll figure out something tomorrow. Just focus on resting for now."

"Yeah. And speaking of rest..." As if on cue, fatigue washed over my entire body. "Sleeping is going to be tricky if I have to keep this ankle elevated."

You smiled. "There are four pillows on the bed and two of us. We can each use one pillow and the other two can be used for your ankle. Here - let me get you set up right now."

"Ah...that's really not necessary." I fought to suppress my desires, which were the strongest they've ever been at that point. Your cologne was intoxicating, and your bare collarbone even more so. I wanted nothing more than to rest on your shoulder, falling asleep to the comfort of your warm body. But I had to stay focused. "I already feel bad enough as it is. Don't worry, I'll figure it out."

You whispered my name is a low voice before scooping me up in your arms. I cried out, looking at you with surprise and wonder as you carried me so effortlessly, like I was no heavier than a feature. You worked effortlessly to ensure my comfort, propping up my ankle up on two fluffy pillows and the ice pack I was using before. You hopped into bed beside me, a satisfied smirk on your face.

"There - now you're ready for bed." You put the white comforter over me before sliding into bed yourself, turning off all the lights, save for one on the nightstand. "If we huddle together, we can keep warm throughout the night."

I was so tired by then, I let you wrap your arms around my waist and pull me close without a fight. It was easy to melt into you warm, despite having to keep my ankle elevated. I sighed, content for another fleeting moment to be close to you. Another moment to relish as though it would be the last.

"Better now?" You sounded just as tired as I was.

"Yeah, but I still feel bad that you had to do all of this because of my clumsiness."

"It's okay - I wanted to do this." You pulled me even closer. "Making sure you're okay is something I take very seriously. And..."

"And?"

"And like you said before - I'm the one who convinced you to go to formal tonight. This is me taking responsibility." Your eyes and your voice seemed so innocent. But the fluttering my heart knew there was something more to it. "You told me to do that, right?"

"...that I did." I snuggled into you, forgetting all about my previous nervous tendencies. I was tired, you were there, and you felt so good beside me...I couldn't help myself. "Still, you know me. I can't go five minutes without apologizing to you for the most random thing."

"That's true. I'm beginning to think you offended me in another life with all that apologizing." You skillfully dodged my swipe at your shoulder. "Hey, easy there. You don't want to hurt something else, do you?"

"Funny, I was going to tell you the same thing." She chuckled, glad for the ease from the tension. I turned my head so you wouldn't see me yawning. "Watch yourself."

"The only thing I'm going to be watching is you fast asleep. You're tired."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. I saw you hiding that yawn." Nothing got passed you. Nothing ever got passed you - especially when it came to me. I just hadn't realize it yet. "Sleep...I'll be right here when you wake up."

"Mmm..." I nestled my head in the curve of your neck, my eyelids feeling much heavier. "You should rest, too."

"I will...after you."

We nestled even closer, fatigue easing away any reasons to keep ourselves separated. The rise and fall of your breath was my lullaby that night, sending me to a place where dreams were nothing but peaceful. It was only when I woke up the next morning in your arms did I remembered my swollen ankle. Cocooned in the comfort of your care, my heart yearned for you even more. It wanted nothing more than to beat alongside yours, if only for a little while.

I think you wanted that, too.

[burr-ell]

🤍, 🖤?

🤍: Which character is not as morally bad as everyone else seems to think?

So this is gonna seem contradictory to my reblog of blorb's post; this is not intended to be read as a counter to it, but as a complement: Percy.

If I'm being honest, one of the things that kinda bothers me about C1 group fanart is when I see everyone else in the party at their fully developed state, like with their Vestiges and powerups and everything, and then Percy's out here...with Orthax. Whom he expelled from himself with a natural 20 wisdom save, for the record, in episode 35. He spent more time without Orthax than with him!

It is objectively true that Percy invented the gun knowing what harm it could do but did it anyway. He once permanently maimed an innocent boy because he wasn't giving the answers he wanted. He gave Grog a cursed sword and didn't tell anyone because he didn't want it to be his responsibility and he thought Grog could handle it. It is also objectively true that he expressed doubts about what he was doing even during the Briarwood arc and admitted he was scared of who he was becoming and outright asked the group to stop him if they thought they should. He publicly apologized to Desmond and admitted his wrong and assured him recompense in both money and job security. He participated in a resurrection ritual for a child he didn't know who got caught in the crossfire of a battle. He fought to provide the people of Westruun a safe haven in their city, while still encouraging people to leave if they wished, because he wanted to honor the fact that what they had built there was important to them.

I think Percy is one of those characters that people view as either a silly little Human Disaster™ or as Vox Machina's Token Evil Teammate (the audience who projected onto him as the Facts and Logic guy seems to have dissipated after it became clear that he was. very much not doing that), and neither of those things are true. When Laura remarked that she looked at Percy and said "I can fix him", it was very clearly a joke, but I think people take that seriously and think Vex is the only reason he's not Lawful Evil or something. (Taliesin once said that without Vex's influence Percy could potentially have turned out Lawful Good—Laura's reaction was "eugh".) Percy didn't believe he could EVER be worthy of Vex and never once intended to act on his feelings; the change in him between episodes 35 and 68 was because he personally chose to be better, over and over again—even through several instances of him having Fucked Up Big Time—for its own sake. His forgiveness of Ripley is what inspired Vex, and I don't think people acknowledge that enough.

🖤: Which character is not as morally good as everyone else seems to think?

I kind of alluded to this in the ship question but to be clear at the outset, I think Vax is a good person*, but I also think his flaws tend to be overlooked. He gets Soft Boy'd a lot, and while I don't think characters who operate on emotion are bad or stupid by default (my favorite superhero is Starfire), I think fandom tends to assume people who operate on emotion are good by default. Vax does a lot of reckless things that he's repeatedly called out for by everyone in the group, and he generally lets it roll off him because his metric for success is "but did you die". He saw a kid that he thought needed some tough love, and his first response was "bludgeon him over the back of the head and instantly knock him unconscious". He ran into a trap that nearly got Cassandra killed and never once apologized to her. He ran after Raishan and attacked, an action that actually did get Vex and Scanlan killed, and not only did he never apologize to them, he openly said in front of them that he didn't regret doing it (after being rightfully angry with Percy for getting Vex killed and having seen some proof that Scanlan might not be doing great!).

Like, to be clear, again, none of those things make him a bad person; I think overall he's a good person, and I think they're good character choices!* What I'm saying is that he has some genuine rough edges to him, and I think a lot of that gets ignored or sanded down in fanon to make him "the nice twin" or a perfect YA Hero love interest for a Keyleth who is being projected onto, and that simply isn't the character Liam played.

*I wouldn't normally put in that kind of good-person caveat—I don't think the end-all be-all is whether or not a fictional character is a good person—but a) this is a question about morality and b) some folks are weird about Liam.

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