#like I understand Hickey is a monster and I don't deny that

[queenoftheimps]

Gibson: Ugh, Hickey Gibson: So annoying Gibson: Shat in my bed Gibson: Pestering me about our breakup Gibson: Getting mad that I saved face with Irving Gibson: And now he wants something from me? Gibson: Fuck off Hickey: -gives Gibson a graverobbing trophy- Gibson: Never mind I want this man to lead a cannibal polycule with me as his queen

[teddybeartoji]

HI HII im holding u at gunpoint to tell me all about bestie!gojo and roomie!gojo (both versions >:3) 🔫

LOGAN MY SWEET HIIIII!!!!! U BETTER BE HAVING THE BEST DAY EVER (OR ELSE)!!!!

okay okay okay so bestie!gojo is about gojo taking care of a tipsy reader lmao - he's gonna wash ur face and brush ur teeth and tuck u into the bed and it's so cute and sweet and i wanna pinch his cheeks so badly it's crazy. moss asked about the fluffy roomie!gojo i'm putting that here anndddd as for the suggestive little roomie!gojo drabble - that one is so unbelievably self-indulgent and i don't know how to defend myself on that... essentially it's about the reader having an annoying coworker who just won't leave them alone (😐😐) and gojo proposes that he could mark them up yk so it seems that they're taken hehehehe

bestie!gojo

finally he takes a clean towel and pats your face dry.

"evola!" he gestures to his work very proudly.

"it's 'et voila', stupid."

"whatever." he throws you an eye roll. his fingers ghost over your thighs, trying to find a place to rest.

"can we go to sleep now?"

we. it almost makes him fold - who is he to deny you anything? it's just one last thing though, he reassures himself.

"without brushing your teeth? i can't believe i'm friends with a monster like you." satoru scoffs as loudly as he can.

"fuckoff." you slur. "i am not brushing my teeth with your toothbrush, if that's what you're thinking."

"hello? that would've been super romantic, i don't see the problem."

you give him a weak punch against his shoulder, making him giggle like a schoolgirl.

"you're disgusting, satoru."

"you love it. and anyway - i have a new toothbrush just for you." he swiftly reaches over to where his toothbrush rests and grabs the one right next his one. a completely clean one, just bought for you.

"huh? how long has that been there? maybe it's dusty? i'm not sure you even brush your teeth, how can i trust anything you say?"

and because he's a fucking twelve year-old — he breathes right in your face, earning a way stronger punch against his shoulder.

"OWW!" it's his turn to whine now. whine and stifle another giggle because you're way too cute for your own wellbeing.

you refuse to admit that his breath actually did not smell bad at all. how the fuck does he do that?

roomie!gojo

"like what the fuck else am i supposed to say to him? how am i going to make him understand that i don't want him? that i have a..." a big sigh leaves your lips. "boyfriend."

your roommate pinches your calf. "i could always mark you up. you know, play your little boyfriend, hm?"

wait, what?

your eyes fly open but your gaze stays on the ceiling above you, not daring to look at him just yet. that would probably get the point across, right? are you really considering this? are you gonna let him do that? mark you up?

you slowly lower your eyes and look at him. the light glow from the tv in the background is making his eyes shine right back at you and he's smiling. he's always smiling, showing off the perfect rows of pearly whites. his lips look so pink and pretty. and glossy? and soft? and now you're really thinking about letting him do it, cover you in hickeys as long as you get to feel him against your skin. let his sharp canines sink into your neck and let him play your boyfriend.

satoru observes you staring at him, at his lips, deep in thought. he knows he got you, he just wants to hear you say it now. he needs you to ask for it.

"you're thinking about it." breaking the silence with his tease.

you rub your feet together in his lap, his hands still resting on your calves.

"and what if i am?" raising a brow at him, you try to keep your composure, to seem unaffected by his tempting offer.

his long fingers slither around one of your ankles. "aw, do you want me to be your boyfriend, pretty?" his free hand grabs your other ankle and he raises your feet off his lap and back onto the couch. he stands and takes a step closer to you while keeping his finger on you, draggin up your legs to your thighs.

"a fake boyfriend." you correct him.

he smirks.

and then he sits himself onto your lap, making a surprised gasp leave your throat. his thighs surround your hips, the two of you barely fit on the couch like this. a dark red blush covers your cheeks and you're finding it hard to look at him in this newly found position.

"so you do want me to do it." his fingers grab your chin and tilt it up, forcing you to look at him, doe eyes meeting his excited ones. "want me to mark you up, to let him know you're 'taken', right?"

his fingers move up and he squishes your cheeks. "i can do that."

your heart rate is reaching a new level, you actually might be dying. are you letting him do this? are you seriously letting your annoyingly cocky roommate with his stupid pretty blue eyes and his even stupider smile do this?

yes.

definitely yes.

[hollyhomburg]

personally i think someone accessing namjoons home address and phone number doesn’t compare to a fan joking about giving him a hickey,

also this is not like a dig at you, i just genuinely can’t really understand and maybe you could explain- why are hickey jokes so outrageous but smut headcanons and stuff are fine? (again, purely asking because i cant understand n maybe you have an explanation)

i think the separation is that smut and things in the written sphere are like obviously completely fictional- and thats what makes it okay and different from jokes about namjoon's hickey. purely because the former underminds what namjoon the person wants and the first just talks about namjoon the charecter in an authors eye.

like while there are certainly some y/n reader insert fanfics that lean into the fanservice and delusional aspect of it- i don't think the vast majority of the people who write fanfic legitimately think the events in the story happened in physicality. how many fics have you seen where like yoongi's a tentacle monster and jimin's a hapless victim? like no one thinks that shit is real. just because i write a fic where jungkook has bunny ears doesn't mean he's actually a hybrid or that hybrids exist. People aren't going to confuse reality here.

but when we argue about what the boys actually say and if they're really lying to us- that is involving the real namjoon in a different way than fiction is. it's not fictional and it's not done with his wishes in mind. like i don't understand why people are so committed to not beliving him.

to bring this back to fanfiction, like i don't know if namjoon has a big dick or not, the same way i don't know how big joel in the last of us is- but the nature of fiction is that it is always speculative. if namjoon irl said "i have a big dick" and we said "no i think you have a small dick" that would be INFINITELY more problematic. it's real people vs fictional people. the version of namjoon that i write about doesn't exist, the one people make hickey jokes about does and his privacy is being violated to sate the need to know about his private life.

making jokes about namjoon's hickey is not specultive fiction, it's speculative reality, it's questioning namjoon the person not namjoon the character. and you can't not admit that the joking back and forth creates this dynamic between people who are possessive of them and people who aren't. there is a certain sense of one up man ship where people are like "i'm going to prove it to you that he actually is dating" "finally all the crazy fans can go away now that he's come out with a hickey," "namjoon is getting it all you people can go stfu" (all things ive seen on twitter tbh)

i feel like this dynamic is a result of the misogyny that female fans are treated with- like according to the media we're all stereotyped as teenagers who have crushes on people who will never know we exist. and certain fans have different reactions to it. One is to completely reject the idea of army being possessive over them and hunt down the people who do or in stalkers case- hunting down namjoon to expose his private life, either to sell to the media to prove he is in a relationship. or to sell it to the sassengs who want to confirm or deny the existence and nature of his private time.

there is nothing revolutionary about not believing that namjoon's bruise is a bruise- the only thing that tells me about you is that you don't believe namjoon and have his best interest at heart.

it comes down to what are we willing to do to prove what we believe is real, which is why personally- i think we should only accept info about irl bts's private life from them, and ignore any other 'hints' that we may get until they're confirmed. as far as i'm concerned, i belive bts. they don't want to talk about their relationships? then for all of my concerns i don't care about it. i won't wonder, i won't go looking at jungkook's gym to find out if he ever comes with anyone, i won't go to an art museum in the hopes that namjoon might be there. i certainly wouldn't book a train ticket or purchase information. if they want to shout from the roof tops about how much they love a girl they met in a coffee shop? i will gush with them.

speculation about their private lives and information about their private lives should be given to us fans on their terms and in their timeframe. Not because someone stalks them. it comes down to respecting a boundary.

bts have never set the boundary that they didn't want fanfiction made about them- in the case of hyyh and the bts world game- they outright encouraged fictional fan driven content- even the highlight reels are representative of this- beautiful pictures of fiction that fan creators can take and mold.

on the other hand they've certainly created a boundary about their private lives and what they're willing to share with us. they don't want us to speculate about it because it only causes shit like this.

long rant over; TLDR- fanfiction's are fictional for a reason, saying namjoon is lying is not fiction. believe bts and what they say or don't say about their private lives and move on.

[headless-angel-writes]

Love Bites

Summary: Ya que Baz no quiere morderlo, Simon propone una alternativa.Carry On Countdown 2022:  Colmillos 

Words: 1677

Ao3:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/43640946

@carryon-countdown​

Simon.

I still don't understand why Baz refuses to bite me. He's not a monster and I know he won't hurt me. And it's something very intimate, that would connect us in a very special way. Plus, it's extremely hot. 

anyone's wet dream is to have a vampire as a lover. And I, who have one, can't enjoy the associated benefits.

As much as I try to discuss it, he always cuts me off with the same argument.

"Cannibalism isn't sexy, Snow."

"Oh yeah? Tell that to Jeffrey Dahmer," I reply, sick of always hearing it

(Baz smacked me after that. It was a lame attempt at a joke. Even for me.)

But today I have a new approach for him. I don't know if it's weird to talk about it over dinner, but we're strangers anyway.

"Baz, can I talk to you about something," I say, stirring my mashed potato.

"You know you can, Simon."

He stretches his hand across the table, I take it.

"Since you won't bite me... Why don't we reach a middle ground?

I feel my face heat up.  I'm still ashamed to talk about my kinks out loud, I can't deny it. But we must communicate with each other about all of our needs. (Yes, I learned that in therapy).

"What do you mean love?"

He intertwines our fingers and squeezes a little, trying to encourage me to talk.

"Can you give me hickeys? And use your fangs a bit."

Baz is thinking. I can almost hear him.

"You're talking about using my fangs, but without actually hurting you.

Technically a hickey is a wound. I'm not mentioning it.

"Yes" 

"And no drawing blood."

It's not a question.

"Yeah, no blood." 

Oh, boring. But I can accept that. Baz is quiet, stroking my hand, just a minute longer.

"It's okay. Let's do it" he says at last.

It makes me want to jump on him right now, not caring if our dinner is ruined. Instead, I just bring his hand to my mouth and kiss his knuckles.

Baz tries to make small talk while we eat. I reply with pure gibberish. I'm not paying attention to him, and that makes me feel a slight twinge of guilt.

But I can't stop thinking now that he's agreed. Does it hurt? How will it look on me? Does Baz think it's freaky? Can it be done in my wings? Will I actually enjoy it when he finally gives me a hickey?

I have no experience with hickeys. I read a couple of articles on the internet about it. Still, it's different reading about it than experiencing it firsthand. Just thinking about it makes me aroused

We finish our dinner and Baz goes to the living room. I can hear the TV on while I do the dishes. This week it's my turn to do it. 

Eating dinner, doing the dishes, watching some shows on TV and then going to bed seems like an old marriage routine. I don't mind, I like knowing what to expect. And so does Baz. It's comforting after the chaos our lives were before.

I'm so focused on my task that I jump a little when I feel Baz hugging me from behind. (He spelt my wings and tail away before dinner.) His hot breath tickles the back of my neck.

"Come to the room when you are finished," he says.

"I thought we were going to watch a movie."

He begins to trail kisses down my neck. They're quick and tender, but it's enough to send a shiver down my spine. His grip on me tightens.

"That can wait."

As he speaks, I can feel his teeth brush against my skin. Oh for Merlin's sake.

As soon as it started, it stops. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as Baz leaves the kitchen. I hurry to rinse everything off and dry my hands. Then I rush to meet him.

He is lying in bed, reading something on his mobile. He has removed his trousers and shirt, leaving only his boxers. It's awkward that I'm still dressed. As soon as he sees me, he puts his phone away. Suddenly I'm overcome with shyness. I don't know how to approach him. 

"Do you need help removing your clothes?

I shake my head and start to undress while he stares at me. Sometimes I still find it hard to believe he's actually attracted to me. 

Now I'm undressed, I finally step closer. He leads me over until I'm lying on the bed next to him. I'm not sure what to do now. 

"You don't have to do it if you don't want to," I tell him. 

"Stop thinking so much," he replies, touching my forehead.

I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. It's sweet and slow. Wonderful how our mouths fit together so well. It doesn't take long for the kiss to increase in depth. As I start to run out of breath, he takes the opportunity to start moving down my neck, kissing it. I breathe a sigh. When he does that, I enjoy it, my neck is a sensitive spot. 

"I'm doing it now," he says against my skin.

"Please."

I stroke his hair. He holds me by my sides, firmly.

Baz's fangs graze over my jugular, just enough to feel their sharpness; it makes me groan in frustration. He retracts them, but his mouth stays on my neck. His mouth licking and sucking on my skin. It hurts a little, but it's a good pain. Pleasurable.  

It's much better than I expected. And I can't stop panting. Up against my thigh, I feel Baz react to the sounds I make. When he's satisfied, pulls his mouth away, but not before leaving a kiss on the newly formed bruise. It gives me goosebumps. Baz moves my jaw and examines his work.

"For my first love bite, I think it looks pretty good," he says.

"It's just that you're an expert at sucking."

That makes him laugh.

"Are you serious?" 

I shrug 

"I'm not lying. You're an expert at sucking blood... and other stuff too."

He bites my throat and I laugh. Even though he didn't do it with force, I feel as if his teeth, his fangs, are digging straight into my soul. 

"Sometimes I don't understand why you're still with me. I'm a monster."

His mournful tone worries me. I cup his face in my hands, to make him look at me.

"No, you're not." I kiss his nose, "I wish you could see yourself as I see you, Baz."

 His eyes water a little. He doesn't answer me but reaches out for me to hug him. I do. My breathing is still heavy, and I can still feel his hard dick against my leg.

"Besides, your fangs are so sexy. I like it when you bite me."

He pulls away from me. There are dry tears on his face. I wipe them away with my thumbs.

"Then let me pamper you, Simon."

Baz's tongue moves slowly over my throat. My fingers dig into the back of his neck and his back. No doubt I'm going to leave fingernail marks on his body,

He gives small thrusts into my thigh. His moans are drowned against my neck.  My hard cock begs for attention. I tap a few times on his hip. He gets the message and turns a little, just enough to bring our crotches together. I leave my hand on his ass and try to pull him closer to me. 

"Fuck," I let out a sigh. 

Baz is still focused on my neck. He bites down from time to time, letting me feel his fangs. And he sucks in a few spots. He's going to leave several marks. I can't complain. We haven't stopped grinding this whole time. The rocking of our hips is delicious. However, I think I need a little more stimulation if I want to come.

I bring one of my hands down to the spot where our penises touch. Baz is still wearing his boxer shorts, so I pull them down a little to free his shaft. He's dripping wet, and so am I.

I grab both of us in one hand and start stroking our cocks. My motions are quick. And barely coordinated, but they make Baz lose control. He pulls away from my neck and seeks my gaze. 

"I'm so close," he says.

"Come for me, baby," I whisper as I nibble on his earlobe.

After a few more strokes, he reaches orgasm, and I orgasm seconds later. My hand, as well as our bellies, are covered in cum. I don't care at the moment.

My breathing is quite laboured. Baz drops onto my chest. He grimaces when he notices how sticky and filthy I am. Still, he doesn't let go. 

"We should take a bath in the tub," he says a while later.

To be honest, I'm too lazy to take a bath right now. Although sleeping covered in dried spunk and sweat doesn't sound like a nice thing to do. Plus I can take advantage of the fact that my wings are hidden.

"Yeah, let's do that."

In the bathroom, as the tub fills, I stare at the marks on my skin. They stand out a lot as if they were roses. It's the first time I have had wounds that were made with love. I smile at the mirror. 

If I could, I'd let everyone see me like this.

"Do you want me to fix your hickeys?" says Baz.

I can't help but laugh. I gesture for him to come over to me. He understands and hugs me from behind.

"Baz, the point of hickeys is to mark a person. I want it to show that I'm yours."

( After the bath, when he offers to rub aloe on my skin to bring the swelling down a bit, I let him.. If he wants to take care of me, I won't stop him)