#I wish tumblr still let you put lines in to break up text

[msbigredmachine]

M.K.A.M. (My Kinda Morning) - Roman Reigns/Plus Size OC)

Who says birthday sex has to end after the birthday? Roman/Plus Size OC

PAIRING: Tribal Chief!Roman Reigns x Plus Size OC

Warnings: SMUT all the way, lol

Word count: 4.6k 

A/N: In honor of our Tribal Chief's 38th birthday and to celebrate his historic 1000-day title reign. Tumblr flagged my story so I had to upload it again🙄 Enjoy!

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Face Claim (Because Tumblr flagged it the last time)

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Birthdays occurred only once a year, so it was usually imperative that it was spent with the people you love. After nearly two months away from you, it was almost hard for Roman to believe that he was actually back in your arms and in your bed, and on his birthday no less. He wished he didn't have to leave you for such long periods of time, but you understood that it was the nature of the beast. You embraced this reality when you made the decision to start a relationship with not just a pro wrestler, but the champion and the face of the biggest wrestling company in the world. Still, he tried to compensate by putting pen to paper on a lighter travel schedule, as well as buying you a new dildo to keep you occupied in his absence. According to you, the dildo had gotten several workouts, and the daily, dirty text messages from him, outlining what he'd like to be doing to you, definitely helped too.

Yesterday was incredible. From the moment he called to inform you that his jet was en route to your city, you were completely beside yourself with the most erotic thoughts on exactly how you would celebrate his birthday. You weren't ashamed to admit that your hands had ventured between your thighs more than once during the day, barely paying attention to any of the meetings you were in, counting down the hours till you finally got to see him. When he showed up at your doorstep, you were naked and waiting. No surface in your loft was safe; the couch, the kitchen counter, your desk in your little office space, the stairs...you name it, Roman fucked you on top of it, only taking a break to eat some of the birthday cake you bought for him before carrying you up to your bedroom, where you spent the night licking buttercream frosting off your bodies and coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of each other.

It was just past six in the morning, meaning you still had some time before you had to get up for work. Through the white sheer curtains of your bedroom window, the beautiful red and orange sunrise kissed the rich melanin of your skin. As the Tribal Chief watched the colors adorn your sleeping face, he felt his heart swell with renewed love and lust for you. He lay behind you, with your body cocooned in his warm and solid frame. You fit together perfectly.

He rested his hand on your hip, admiring the streaks of wavy stretch marks there. His sexy little tiger. He definitely had you mewling and purring like one when he put it on you last night. Faint lines of cake frosting smudged your brown skin, and he swiped each one with his finger and put in his mouth. He then let his hand travel along your waist, awed by the mouthwatering curves that belonged to him. Then, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you back into him with a sigh. You seemed to still be asleep, and he really wanted to wake you up.

So, he started rotating his hips, pressing his morning erection against your sumptuous backside, nestling the impressive length between your ass cheeks. His hand slid up to your breasts, cupping one gently. As his finger grazed your nipple, you finally stirred. Your body shifted, causing your backside to rub up on his dick, and he grinded against you more purposefully, closing his hand tighter around your breast as he kissed your neck.

"What are you doing?" you whispered, your voice throaty and scratchy from sleep.

Roman nuzzled your shoulder, pressing another kiss to your skin. "I've missed you so much, my love."

He had shown you just how much last night. For hours. Your Samoan stallion possessed the stamina of three stellar athletes and you loved it. But right now... "I've missed you too. But I need to be up for work soon," you reasoned. You rolled onto your belly, which put a bit of distance between you.

"Call in sick. It's still my birthday," he implored.

"You know I can't, babe," you murmured, resting your head atop your crossed forearms, facing him and shutting your eyes. Your thick, sumptuous butt curved enticingly in the air thanks to your new sleeping position, prompting Roman to reach out to massage one of your cheeks, groping and squeezing the supple flesh in his palm.

It didn't surprise you to feel your pussy immediately tingle from his caress. His hands on you never failed to set your pulse racing. But you needed your rest. He already had you up all damn night, rendering your throat hoarse and your limbs like spaghetti. In another attempt to deter him, you rolled onto your back, your breasts and your womanhood on display.

Big mistake.

The Tribal Chief's eyes lit up like Christmas trees. His big hand cupped your breast again, thumbing the puckered nipple, then doing the same with the other. His fingertips made a delicate trail down the plane of your stomach, which spasmed from his touch. His fingers skimmed over your sensitive pussy lips, which were still tender and puffy from last night. He started to stroke you and you tried to squeeze your legs together to stop him, but he wasn't having that shit.

"Open your legs," he growled.

"Babe, I'm sleepy," you whined with a frown on your face, "I won't get up on time if we do this."

"I told you to call in sick. I'll handle your boss. It's my birthday and I want my present. Now spread 'em."

Fuck, you couldn't resist when he got all bossy and domineering with you. Of course, you relented, your legs falling open like they always did. Why did he have to look at you like that? He was so damn fine and he knew that shit. All it took was one look into that smoldering gaze of his and you were putty in his hands.

Your breath caught as he rubbed you faster, his body shifting much closer to you, reoccupying your space. His big beautiful dick pressed your upper thigh, damn near pulsating against your skin. You couldn't help but stare at it. Long and thick, accompanied by a heavy set of balls that made you drool.

Hovering over you, Roman smirked at your famished expression, and moved his fingers in small circles, spreading your wetness all around your folds. Then, he slowly sank them into you, his groan harmonizing with yours. He could feel how swollen you were from the pounding you took, but you were so wet his fingers slid in effortlessly anyway, your slick, hot flesh enveloping the digits.

"Baby..." you gasped, arching into him.

Your little squirms of protest had dwindled, which was how he knew he was slowly breaking you down. He moved in for the kill.

"I can eat it if you want," he offered, intentionally licking his lips that were a hair's breadth away from yours, and suddenly you wanted that mouth on you more than anything in the world.

"Mmm, yes please."

Bullseye. Roman sat up and kneeled before you, spreading your legs far apart and inspecting you down there. "That's the definition of a pretty pussy right here. All beat up and swole. Did I pound you good last night, baby girl?" he asked.

God, his voice. Deep and dripping with arrogance and sex as he talked dirty to you. It made your knees weak and your pussy moisten. "Yes, Daddy, it was so good."

His thumb stroked your pussy lips, fascinated by how fat and wet they were. "Gotta taste this sweet cunt again before I give you this dick, right?"

Before you could open your mouth to reply, Roman descended on you, spreading his mouth over your core. You were wide awake now, your hand on the back of his head while he went to work. You still tasted like cake, making you that much sweeter for his palette. He drooled all over that pretty pussy, causing you to moan and whine for him. Roman slurped on you a little more before bringing his eyes up to meet yours with a lick of his lips. You were breathing deeply with your mouth parted and irises low and lustful.

"Roman..."

Ducking his head again, he feasted heartily on you, not stopping this time around. Delicious, wet ass pussy that belonged in his mouth day and night. His huge hands glided up your torso before cupping your breasts. His tweaking of your nipples caused a flood, making his mouth so watery that with each suck, his saliva made its way down to the crack of your ass. Roman's mouth was hard at work, tonguing you down and French-kissing your meaty outer lips.

You were grinding his face now, your hands grabbing everywhere, the sheets, his head, his shoulders. Your ass clenched and your hips bucked as pleasure lapped at you with the same devastating impact as his tongue.

"Unnnh fuck, I'm comin', Daddy I'm comin'!" you cried and moaned and writhed on the bed. This man was going to be the death of you. You stared at him wide-eyed before your eyes rolled back as something inside you unlocked. Your neighbors could probably hear your scream as you came in his mouth. You pushed at his head, your body craving relief but not getting it, his dark chuckle vibrating against your pussy as he refused to free you from his clutches.

Your moans and screams made his dick so hard. Roman shifted forwards to pin your thighs down to your chest, his tongue still moving like a hurricane. It wasn't the most comfortable position to be in, but for him, you would do anything. In your spare time you would practice contorting your legs for minutes on end because you wanted to please him, because you deemed him worthy enough to step out of your comfort zone and take a little pain for. Besides, the pleasure you received in return was out of this world, so it was definitely worth it.

A weak gasp rumbled in your heaving chest as he started sucking on your clit, aiming to make you come once again. All you could hear were the wet, gushy sounds his mouth was making while eating you out, and it was enough to trigger you again. With your fingers digging into his hair, you welcomed your second orgasm of the morning with a pleasured moan. He ate you out so good your eyes fluttered shut from exhaustion.

"Nah, keep your eyes open, sweetheart. I'm 'bout to tear this pussy up...again," he warned.

You could only watch, prone and helpless, as Roman crawled on top of you and made himself comfortable between your legs. He ensured to put all his body weight on top of you, and the feel of his muscles against your belly, chest, and thighs had your stomach doing flips. The softness of his full lips against your collar bone, with a generous helping of tongue, the scruff of his facial hair tickling you, made you exhale shakily. As he brought his kisses upwards, you angled your head to meet his lips. Your tongues twined around the other's for a couple of seconds before your mouths sealed together in sensual, intimate kisses.

Roman shifted his body above you, his hand slipping back down between your thighs, two long, thick fingers teasing your folds before breaching inside. He cupped your entire mound in his palm, massaging, working you until you were squirming and moaning his name. To further torture you, he ducked his head down, generously swirling his tongue around each of your nipples before sucking them one by one between his lips. The Tribal Chief found your titties irresistible. He loved them; couldn't stop touching and playing with them. Grabbing them with both hands, he flicked his tongue over them, getting them nice and wet, switching between sucking your nipples with his mouth and plucking them with his fingers. You could feel your pussy tense from the pleasure surging through your body. But you didn't want Daddy to feel left out, so you reached for his dick and started stroking him. His deep moan in reaction made you feel on top of the world.

"Mmm, that's it, make Daddy rock-hard," he whispered, watching the way you stroked and squeezed and teased him. You loved the weight and feel of him in your hand. A seep of precum made the head slick and elicited another surge of wetness between your legs. You strengthened your stroking motions along his shaft, biting your lip when he thrust briefly against your hand. With a harsh moan, he managed to break free from your intoxicating touch so he could focus on giving you the dick he promised.

Rolling you onto your belly, he maneuvered behind you, pressed your chest and shoulders into the bed, and raised your ass in the air, your knees spread wide with your feet close together and tucked under him. Perfect. He palmed each of your rounded cheeks, molding the flesh greedily in his hands. His cock strained against your pussy, and involuntarily, you moved your hips, desperate for contact. He took his dick and lined it along your slit, spreading your wetness around as he slowly worked the bell-shaped head inside you. Your bodies trembled seemingly as one as he filled you to the hilt, savoring the quivering of your pussy around his length.

"Daddy..." you moaned.

"Shhh, I gotchu," he hushed you with a low chuckle, caressing your body, making you feel good. His hands stopped at your hips and he started to move in and out of you, stretching your opening, holding back on you just a bit. He bent close to your ear, his lips ghosting along your jawline. "Talk to me, baby girl. Tell me you want it."

"I want it. Fuck me, Daddy."

"I know you do. Shit, you stay so damn tight. Good god, babe."

His breathing sped up and his grip tightened on your hips, letting out a deep, visceral groan as he thrust a little faster inside you. You fought the urge to scream as he went deep, burying himself in you. "Fuck, Daddy, yeah!"

With his fingers digging into the meat of your hips, he drilled your pussy, hard, his balls slapping against your clit. As much as you whimpered and moaned, you remained on your knees and took every inch like a champ. You could feel the head of his cock meet the bottom of your pussy with every thrust. It was a shock to your system, how deep he was in you, yet you could still feel him trying to go deeper, straining to be closer to you. Your pussy gripped him again and again and you had to bite into the pillow to contain your loud moans, your hands fisting the satin sheets. The mix of his spit with your cum caused your pussy to make the wettest, filthiest sounds as he fucked you. Eager to hear more, Roman circled his hips, pushing his dick right up against your g-spot, slapping your ass in time with his grinding strokes. Another groan escaped him at the sight of his glistening cock, covered in your juices, sending shivers down his spine. One last flick of his hips finished you off. It was an experience watching you release all over his cock, your pussy squeezing around him, your booty cheeks quivering from how hard you were coming.

"Shit." Your mouth fell open, your beautiful face twisted in blissful agony as you struggled to catch your breath.

Smiling proudly at his handiwork, the Tribal Chief squeezed and smacked your backside one last time before lying down on his back. "C'mere. Put that pretty mouth on my cock."

Managing to unravel your body from the position he twisted you in, you moved over to him and grabbed up his throbbing shaft, spreading the cream you left all over the intimidating length. You released a wad of spit on the tip of his cock and used it to lather him up nice and good. You licked along the side of his dick before taking him halfway into your mouth. Your man tasted so good, his flesh hard and smooth against the flat of your tongue.

"Mmmmm. Nasty ass mouth taking all that big dick. So hot. Suck that shit, baby, taste your pussy on it," he goaded.

You moaned at his words with your mouth full of his cock. Such a nasty shit talker, and it never failed to get your pussy Ieaking. Your hands rested on his thighs now, only working your neck and your wet, juicy lips up and down his length. You moaned on him again and it delivered a vibrating sensation to his dick, causing it to harden even more in your mouth. Easing up on him, you traced circles around his head with your tongue, drawing out pleasured gasps from him as he watched your every move with blown pupils. You took note of every little sound and moan of pleasure he made during sex...It meant you were doing him right, and you were learning to be even better to please both you and your sexy man.

"This my dick, Daddy?" you asked him.

"Yes, baby girl, it is, it's all yours." Roman hummed with satisfaction. You looked so fucking hot, slobbering all over his dick and giving it your undivided attention. His muscled hips bucked upwards to thrust in and out of your mouth. Pulling off your bonnet, he grabbed your hair and held you down on his cock, fucking your mouth over and over, at one point pushing himself so far down your throat that you made a startled sound of protest and popped him out of your mouth to glare at him.

"Hey! You tryna make me gag?" you warned.

Roman merely shrugged. "Damn right. I ain't apologizing, neither. Don't stop. Keep sucking me off."

"Asshole. You lucky I love you." You shifted your focus to his balls and used your lips to tug and pull each one while stroking his flesh pole at the same time. You could hear his gasps, feel him fidgeting, his fingers in your scalp, thanks to your ministrations. You were driving him crazy and you both knew it.

"Fuck, shit, your mouth feels so good on me, girl...you gon' make me come...Damn..."

Roman grunted deep and his big hand yanked you by your neck, shoving his dick back in your mouth where it belonged. With a firm push of your head, you swallowed him up again with a moan. Done with the games, your head bobbed up and down, dragging your lips along his cock in a tight seal, pumping him in your fist, working him into a frenzy.

"Baby, baby," Roman called for you, his balls growing tighter and tighter. Heat bloomed in his belly and his toes twisted. His fingers trembled in your hair as he erupted in your inviting mouth, emptying inside you for the umpteenth time in several hours. You caught every drop of his warm seed without making a mess. Releasing him, you opened your mouth to show him his morning nut.

"Damn, you got all of it," he moaned, taking your chin in his hand and inspecting your mouth. "Good girl. Swallow it and let Daddy see."

Obediently, you swallowed down his load, opening your empty mouth again as proof. Roman growled and crashed your lips together, savoring the tastes of you and him on your tongues. "My baby is such a good girl. Lay back down for me."

"Yes, Daddy." His dazed expression had you giggling while you moved around the bed for him, wiping the excess spit from your mouth. As soon as you were on your back, he pushed your legs up and out of the way. Grabbing the base of his dick, he wasted little time entering you again, holding himself up so that he could drop all this dick down in your pussy. You stared up at him, your lips parted almost in shock; he was so hard and so deep. You looked from his dick to his face again in a euphoric daze. He was rock-hard and digging into your wetness, the lewd sounds echoing around the bedroom. You went to rub your clit but he smacked your hand away.

"Uh-uh, hands off my pussy. I warned you last night about touching this pussy without my consent." As punishment, he picked up the pace.

"Oh my god," you gasped.

His grin was wicked as he watched you push at his abs to no avail. "Haha, I ain't going nowhere, baby. Take this dick like you took it last night. I ain't pulling out neither, you know Daddy don't like to pull out. Now hold your legs up for me."

Before you knew it, you found yourself clasping your calves and rearing your legs further back, allowing him to have his wicked way with you. You were trapped beneath him with nowhere to run, just how he liked it. He rocked that big ol' dick into you, grinding his hips in the most artful way, his body rolling, ebbing, flowing, plunging, making you feel every inch and making you fall in love with him all over again.

And to think, people called missionary boring. The man you were fucking made sure no position was boring. Not many women were as lucky as you were, to have a passionate, attentive partner who knew exactly how to please you.

"You fuck me so good, baby," you praised him, your voice a high-pitched, breathless mewl. “Fuck, you’re making me so wet.”

"Uh huh, you’re making a mess on my cock. I love it. You know I love taking care of my girl and my pussy," he answered, leaning down for a tender kiss.

"You always take good care of me, Daddy. I love you so much."

"I love you too, my sweet girl." Your affirmations seemed to turn him into an animal, as his thrusts became harder, deeper, rougher, the big bed rocking from his forceful movements. He could see your grip on your legs slipping so he grabbed them for you, pinning them down to the bed by the back of your knees. Your toes curled in the air as he kept up his electrifying strokes. The heat you felt creeping up was so strong that you shut your eyes tightly in anticipation. A flood of warm liquid gushed out of you and all over his already creamy dick, making you both moan out loud. When he slipped out of you, you shivered, and then just about fainted when he crept downwards and put his mouth back over you.

"Unnnhhh shiiiit..." you breathed, as he slowly worked his tongue in and around that sweet spot he had since mastered, slurping up your cum juice. You squirmed and squealed helplessly, tears springing to your eyes as another delicious climax built up inside you. Your head fell back onto the bed, incapable of doing any other thing except moan and cry. Too spent to scream, you could only make strangled sobs as another orgasm wracked your body yet again.

When he glided his dick back inside your now sensitive cunt, you couldn't bring yourself to look at him. Roman groaned as you tightened around him, your walls suckling him inch by inch. Bracing himself up with his powerful arms, he nudged your legs up onto his broad shoulders, giving you the perfect view of your pussy taking all his big dick. You turned your head every which way, your weakened body bouncing from the moderate pace of his thrusts. Roman chuckled in amusement at your reaction, his deep, raspy laugh almost taunting.

"Aww, you don't wanna look at me, beautiful? Can't handle how good this dick is?" he teased, kissing away the tears on your cheeks before swiveling his hips around and around, burying himself inside you. "Mmm, you like this, don’t ya? I can tell you like it. You're squeezin' the shit outta my dick. Bet you're feeling real good right now..."

More than good. You were as wet as a waterfall and floating high as a kite right now. Your head arched back into the pillows as he kept putting that dick in your stomach, your voice now hoarse from all your moans and cries. Roman brought his face closer and reacquainted his tongue with yours, absorbing your moan as you tasted yourself in his mouth. In turn, you threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss. Through the haze of passion, you honed in on the sounds of pleasure he was making, the relentless steadiness of his strokes, driving into you with enough momentum to sink you into the sheets.

"God, your pussy is incredible, baby," he murmured under his breath between heated kisses. "Goddamn...I'm 'bout to fill that pussy up, put a damn baby in you."

The waves of searing pleasure rolled outward from where your bodies connected. Roman felt the pull as his balls tightened, inducing him to fuck you harder, faster. You could feel it too, and you reached behind him to rake your nails down his lower back, desperate to end this before you lost control of all your senses and capacities. That small slice of pain was enough to push the Tribal Chief over the edge, your name grinding past his lips as he spasmed inside you. He forced himself as deep as he could down your pussy, emptying his cum in you. Your muscles clenched around him, milking every drop, pulse after pulse of almost painful pleasure mixing with the roaring in his ears. The twitching of his dick ignited another shockwave through your whole body, making you tremble one last time in his arms in a spine-tingling, bone-melting orgasm of your own. 

When it was all over, you crawled away from him, lying spread-eagled, gasping for air, your hair a mess. He lay sprawled beside you, gently tracing the love marks he left on your backside and hips. You were too tired to even turn your head, so you missed the victorious smile on his face as he surveyed the 'damage' he caused.

"You good, baby?" he asked you, his fingers massaging your waist in small soothing circles.

There was a faraway look in your eyes. You felt woozy, your body weak and sore from pleasure. You did not mince your words when delivering your assessment. "You a damn demon."

The twinkle in his eye was just as devilish. "And you love it," he replied with a confident smile, "Am I right, sweetheart?"

Fuck. This man was indeed going to be the death of you. "You know you are," you said softly. Craning your head to check the time on your phone charging on the nightstand, you kissed your teeth tiredly. "I'm gonna be so late."

"I thought I said you should call in sick. Here, let me do it for you." He picked up his phone and searched for a contact. You spied the name he was calling and had to fight back a smile.

"I should never have given you my boss' number," you griped, albeit good-naturedly.

"Come on. He loves ya boy," he chortled. He was right, your boss George was a huge wrestling fan and worshipped the ground Roman walked on. You half-listened to their conversation, holding back a giggle at the serious professional tone your man was using. Severe food poisoning, he said grimly, that it did not look good, and he was taking you to the hospital shortly. He put his phone away with aplomb. "See? Done. I told you Daddy always takes care of his baby girl," he said proudly. "Now we can stay in bed all day and eat more cake, among...other things."

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and you would have laughed if you weren't so exhausted. Thank God you didn't have to get up anymore. You allowed him to wrap his big arms around you, and you snuggled into him, letting him envelop you in the loving protective way he always did. A happy sigh left your lips as you felt his own press against your temple, whispering words of love to you, permitting you to fade back to sleep, completely and utterly satisfied.

THE END

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Thoughts?  The Bloodline may be falling apart but our smut will never die, lol.

Please leave comments. I love comments!

Banner made by me. Roman gif by @harmshake​. Credit to owners of the other pics and gifs.

[accessibleaesthetics]

hello! I've been reading through the resources you've compiled and I really appreciate them! You seem pretty experienced with image descriptions, so I was hoping I could possibly ask you for some advice on how to make my poll tournament more accessible. If you don't have the capacity to help out right now, that's totally fine—let me know if there's someone who you think could better answer my questions!

Anyways, currently I'm running a tournament for poems that are popular on Tumblr (@poetrysmackdown). For Round 1 I just included the images of the poems, which I'd still like to include in future rounds just because it makes it easier to compare side by side, and a few of the poems' precise line structures would be pretty difficult to faithfully replicate on Tumblr. That said, I want to also include text transcriptions in the future rounds for obvious accessibility reasons (and I'm now really wishing I did for Round 1! I didn't realize the tournament would be voted on by anyone besides like ten of my mutuals haha). Do you have any advice on how to format text transcriptions for poems? I'm not sure how best to convey a line break for text-to-speech, for example—should I write it as a "/" between lines, or is it preferable to just write out the poem as I would otherwise? Is it okay if I put the transcription below a read more (some of the poems are quite long), or is that considered rude? I may be overthinking this haha, I just wanna make sure I get it right so everyone can enjoy the poems. I'm attaching two sample poems just so you can get an idea of what I'm working with—thanks in advance!

Not overthinking at all! Before anything else, let me describe the two examples you gave and then I'll put some more detailed thoughts under a read more.

[Image Description: Two screenshots of poems.

The first poem is titled "Scheheraade." It reads: Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake / and dress them in warm clothes again. / How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running / until they forget that they are horses. / It's not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere, / it's more like a song on a policeman's radio, / how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days / were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple / to slice into pieces. / Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it's noon, that means / we're inconsolable. / Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. / These, our bodies, possessed by light. / Tell me we'll never get used to it.

The second poem is titled "Having a Coke with You." It reads: is even more fun than going to San Sebastian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne / or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona / partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier St. Sebastian / partly because of my love for you, partly because of your love for yoghurt / partly because of the fluorescent orange tulips around the birches / partly because of the secrecy our smiles take on before people and statuary / it is hard to believe when I'm with you that there can be anything as still / as solemn as unpleasantly definitive as statuary when right in front of it / in the warm New York 4 o'clock light we are drifting back and forth / between each other like a tree breathing through its spectacles // and the portrait show seems to have no faces in it at all, just paint / you suddenly wonder why in the world anyone ever did them // I look / at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world / except possibly for the Polish Rider occasionally and anyway it's in the Frick / which thank heavens you haven't gone to yet so we can go together the first time / and the fact that you move so beautifully more or less takes care of Futurism / just as at home I never think of the Nude Descending a Staircase or / at a rehearsal a single drawing of Leonardo or Michelangelo that used to wow me / and what good does all the research of the Impressionists do them / when they never got the right person to stand near the tree when the sun sank / or for that matter Marino Marini when he didn't pick the rider as carefully / as the horse // it seems they were all cheated of some marvellous experience / which is not going to go wasted on me which is why I'm telling you about it.

End Image Description.]

Now, obviously I went with the traditional academic rules for quoting poems in the above ID, and I did that because the location of line breaks can be very important in poetry, and that's not always going to translate with a screen reader if you just format it that way. Additionally, if you have someone who sight reads but needs to make the text large, this will often change the location of the line breaks.

I don't know of a good or natural way to convey the right-aligned text in some places via a text description, but if any of my followers do, please feel free to comment!

Capitalization, punctuation, and even font choice are all things that can potentially convey significant meaning in poetry. I opted not to attempt to transcribe those in the above two, but if you're more familiar with the poem and thing those aspects are important in context, you could always make a note about the capitalization. And for things like italics, you could do something like "except possibly for the [italics] Polish Rider [end italics] occasionally and anyway it's in the Frick."

Punctuation is also a tricky one...I tried to keep the description as true to the text as possible, because the lack of punctuation in the second poem defintely seemed very intentional and internal to the flow, but I did add a period at the end of the last poem to give a proper stop between the end of the poem and the "end image description." Your call on how you deal with that, just be aware that not all screen readers are going to pause between lines or paragraphs.

I would generally discourage putting descriptions under a read more, though I do very much understand the concern about length. The formal poem quoting rules above can help condense things space-wise, if that helps.

I also want to encourage alt text! Don't put the entire poem in the alt text of course, but if you put a little blurb in the alt text of each picture, that can signal to screen reader users that it's worth their time to continue down the post. Some screen reader users will simply skip the post entirely when they start hearing "photo, photo, photo," and never even get to the image ID, since it's often not there. Such a blurb could be something like "Screenshot of the poem Scheheraade. See body of post for full description" for the first photo, and "Screenshot of the poem Having a Coke with You. See body of post for full description" for the second.

And finally, just to throw it out there, you don't necessarily have to do a traditional image description the way I did, especially if you provide the supplementary alt text. You could simply transcript the poems too...it's all up to you!

Please feel free to reach out to me if you have any more questions, I'm defintely going to follow, this is such a neat idea.

Oh, and one more thing: don't be afraid to let AI help you with this! And I'm not talking about the neural network kind, I'm talking about good old-fashioned optical character recognition. For example, I plugged that first poem into onlineocr.net and got this:

Scheheraade Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake and dress them in warm clothes again. How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running until they forget that they are horses. It's not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere, it's more like a song on a policeman's radio, how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple to slice into pieces. Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it's noon, that means we're inconsolable. Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. These, our bodies, possessed by light. Tell me we'll never get used to it.

Sure, it required proofreading, a bit of clean up, and of course the line/stanza breaks, but made the process of creating the image description much less effort than it would have taken to type it all out manually. Of course, if you have access to a text version of the poem, that could work even better, but this is a great way to do it if you only have access to the image for whatever reason!

[prepare4trouble]

It had been three days, and nothing. No word from Heaven, or from Hell, no divine judgements, no Hellfire; nothing.

Aziraphale didn’t like it.

Sooner or later, they were going to make their move. He didn’t know when, and he didn’t know what it would be, but the one thing that he did know, with absolute certainty, was that it would happen. They wouldn’t let what they had done go unpunished.

And Crowley too; he wouldn’t get away with it either. There was little doubt in Aziraphale’s mind that Hell was plotting something for his friend, and likely something even worse than Heaven could come up with. It was true that most demons lacked imagination, but they were extremely good at punishing people.

Right now, Aziraphale wished that he lacked an imagination. His was currently working overtime, feeding him terrifying images of all kinds of things that he was quite certain were worse than anything Heaven actually had in their arsenal.

But then, maybe Heaven and Hell would work together to punish the two of them. They had, after all, been completely united in their anger at their respective agents. With the war called off, it wasn’t completely outside of the realms of possibility that they might combine their efforts to do something about the angel and the demon that had stopped all their plans.

And if the worked together, well, the possibilities were so much worse. Not bad enough, though, that Aziraphale’s fertile imagination could not come up with suggestions. He had, after all, spent millennia lost in the writings of creative human beings. he had picked up a thing or two.

It would be keeping him up at night, if he slept. It was certainly having that kind of an effect on Crowley, who was currently pacing the limited floor-space of the bookshop like a caged elephant in a very old zoo, slowly being driven mad.

Aziraphale cleared his throat. “Maybe they’ll just let it go,” he suggested, not really believing it.

Crowley paused in his pacing to look at him. Something in his gaze suggested that the Aziraphale had taken leave of his senses. He shook his head. “They’re not going to let it go, angel. This is Hell we’re talking about. They know how to hold a grudge. Your lot do too.”

He was right, of course. In fact, Aziraphale might even go so far as to say that Heaven was better at holding a grudge, although not knowing the exact state of affairs in Hell, it was difficult to be certain. They were certainly not as forgiving as humanity seemed to believe.

“No, they’re biding their time,” Crowley told him. “And they’re doing it on purpose. Both of them. They’ll wait until we finally relax, until the moment we let ourselves believe that we might have gotten away with it, and then…” his words tailed off into silence.

“And then?” Aziraphale prompted.

Crowley shrugged. “I don’t know! Could be anything; that’s the whole point, isn’t it? You keep your victim good and scared, and not knowing what’s going to happen, or when, makes it worse. It’s basic stuff.”

Aziraphale straightened the fabric of his jacket with the backs of his hands and sat up a little straighter. “Well, I wouldn’t know. Punishing people isn’t exactly in Heaven’s remit.”

The demon stared at him, eyes wide in disbelief. “Not in their remit?” He shook his head. “Ever heard of the Fall? You know, millions of angels burning in agony as they were cast out of Heaven? Ring any bells?”

Aziraphale looked away as he desperately tried not to think about that, not to imagine it being his own fate. “Yes, well, that was a little different…”

“Kicking Adam and Eve out of the garden just because I managed to convince them to try a piece of fruit? Drowning people, drowning children in forty days and nights of rain because… what exactly? Because humans were doing what humans do? Sodom and Gomorrah? Murdering all the firstborns of Egypt? Not the ones doing the actual enslaving, but kids again. Heaven’s so good at punishing people they punish the ones that don’t even deserve it.”

“Alright,” Aziraphale conceded. “Fine, yes. Alright.” He sank into a chair, no clue what to do.

“And as far as they’re concerned, we do deserve it,” Crowley added.

Aziraphale really wished he could switch off his imagination, just for a little while. Because Crowley was absolutely right, and he didn’t want to think about it.

Every demon was an angel once,” Crowley continued. “Where do you think they get that penchant for torture from in the first place?”

**

Aziraphale checked the time on the old grandfather clock that stood against the wall between two overcrowded bookshelves. It had been a week. Seven whole days, right down to the minute, since the world hadn’t ended. Seven whole days of waiting for the hammer to fall. Holding his breath, expecting it at any moment.

“Maybe that’s it,” he mused.

Crowley looked up. He wasn’t wearing his shades and for a moment, Aziraphale thought that the stress of the situation had brought his eyes to full snake. On second glance, he realised that the whites of his friend’s eyes were not yellow, but bloodshot red with exhaustion and lack of sleep.

“You should really get some rest,” he said. He didn’t sleep, personally, but he knew that Crowley did, and apparently over the years his human body had grown accustomed to it, not unlike his own with food.

“Maybe what’s it?” Crowley asked, ignoring the suggestion.

Aziraphale considered his answer carefully. “You said a few days ago that they would wait until we relaxed before they made their move. Maybe if we never do, that will keep them away.”

“Great,” said Crowley. His voice dripped with sarcasm. “So all we have to do is keep feeling like this for the rest of time.”

He was right, it wasn’t the best solution. Especially when one considered that believing they had a way out of their predicament was the kind of thing that was bound to let them relax a little anyway.

“Not possible, anyway,” Crowley continued. “Nobody can keep up that level of anxiety forever. Not even you, Aziraphale. Eventually you’re going to start to think you’re safe.”

Aziraphale sighed. Crowley was right. It had begun to happen already. This time last week, he certainly hadn’t been making plans for the future, now he found himself wondering what the weather would be like tomorrow and whether it might be a good day for a stroll in the park.

He wondered how relaxed was too relaxed.

**

It had been almost two months. August had long-since faded, first into an increasingly chilly September, and then into a drizzly October. The nights had been drawing in for some time, but they appeared to have accelerated, and it had long-since passed the point where there were more hours of darkness than of sunlight.

There was a chill in the air. People had begun to bring out their winter coats, their gloves and scarves and wooly hats. Some of the larger shops had begun to stock items for Christmas. Aziraphale wondered whether he would still be on Earth to see it this year. He did so enjoy the decorations, the fairy lights, the same old songs on the radio and the sense of love they appeared to provoke in the people around him. For a short time every year, at the end of December when life should have been hardest, love appeared to pervade the whole city for a short time, and it was beautiful.

Maybe, just maybe, they really had been forgiven. Or maybe whatever Adam had done when he had changed reality had made Heaven and Hell forget what they had done. Maybe, as far as they were concerned, there was nothing to forgive.

He didn’t believe that though. Not really. As much as he wished that he could. All had been quiet from Heaven since that day at the Airbase in Tadfield. Complete radio silence. That didn’t happen. If Gabriel had really forgotten the incident, somebody would have been in touch with some task for him to perform. The fact that they had not, told him that things were very much not okay.

He wished that someone would get in touch. It didn’t matter what for. If he could just have a short conversation with another angel, he might be able to work out the mood in Heaven from the way that they spoke or the words that they used.

But nothing. Nothing at all.

He had imagined a thousand scenarios by now, each one worse than the last. He was quite sure that no matter what Heaven decided in the end, he had already lived through worse in his own mind.

Aziraphale sighed and pulled his old coat a little tighter around himself, reluctant to use a miracle when he didn’t really need to, for fear of drawing attention to himself. He passed a shop with a Halloween window display of pumpkins and autumn leaves next, to one where a young woman with messy hair and a beautiful smile was putting the finishing touches to a Christmas one.

Soon, he supposed, it would be time to begin his annual campaign of attempting to put customers off from entering his shop in search of gifts. The thought made him tired, and some quiet part of his mind began to suggest that really, was there any point?

**

“Do you think we got away with it?” Aziraphale asked. He spoke in a whisper, although he knew that there was no point. If Heaven were listening, they wouldn't be deterred by quiet voices.

It had been six months since the world hadn’t ended, and it was the first time that Aziraphale had dared to voice the question aloud.

It was the middle of February and snow glistened in the trees and on the untrodden areas of the park, while the paths, and the rest of the city, had been rendered the dirty grey of well-trodden sludge.

Crowley hesitated. His hand stilled inside the brown bag that he was holding on his lap, and a nearby duck quacked in frustration when the food it had been expecting failed to materialise. “No,” he said. “No, I don’t.”

Aziraphale sighed, and he could see his breath.

The demon tossed a handful of duck food — they didn’t throw bread, not anymore. Not since Aziraphale had learned how bad it was for the ducks —to the waiting birds.

“No,” Aziraphale agreed. “I suppose you’re probably right.”

**

It had been two years. Aziraphale wasn’t sure how, but those two years had appeared to last longer than the entire last decade; maybe even the last two decades put together. Perhaps maybe time was slowing down as a way of prolonging their misery, or perhaps it was the opposite. Perhaps it slowed as a curtesy to them, to allow them to make the most of the short time that they had.

But most likely it was neither of those things. Most likely, it was simply his perception, growing confused under the stress of not knowing.

The human body he wore had grown thin from lack of food. He still did eat, but certainly not with the same gusto as before. It was difficult to enjoy a meal when you managed to convince yourself every time that it would be your last.

He knew that he should forget about it, just try to carry on as he had before. It wasn’t as though worrying about it would stop it from happening. All worry did was ruin the time that he had left. But he couldn’t help it. He had always worried, right from the beginning. He had worried when he had given away his sword, and every time he had spoken to Crowley. He had worried when they had struck up the Arrangement, and he had worried when Crowley had suggested trying to save the world.

Worry was familiar. Without it, he didn’t know who he was.

But it had always been something that came and went. He had never lived with so much anxiety for so long without respite. It was beginning to wear on him.

It hadn’t even been that long, he reminded himself. In Heaven, two years could pass in the blink of an eye. The judgement, when it came, could come at any time.

He tried not to think about it, and in doing so, found himself thinking about it even more.

**

It had been twelve years; long enough to see the world beginning to move on around him. He was beginning to see changes in technology, and to notice new regular customers coming into his shop; young adults that had been children when the world hadn’t ended. People that had had a life because of what they had done.

It was gratifying, in a way. Twelve whole years of people meeting and falling in love. Twelve years of friendships. Twelve years-worth of new literature and movies and all the other things humanity could create with their clever minds. Twelve years of new babies being born that would never have existed if the world had ended.

He and Crowley had done that.

Well, no, not them alone. Adam had done it, with the help of his friends as well as Crowley and Aziraphale. And the witch and her boyfriend, was now her husband, and Madam Tracey, and even Shadwell.

Twelve years of weddings. Of people growing old together.

But also twelve years of loss. And of heartbreak.

He liked to think that the good outweighed the bad. And even if it didn’t, the world continued. It had the potential to go on for millions of years. It could be so much more than just a battleground in the war between good and evil.

“What are you thinking about?” Crowley asked.

The demon was lounging in a chair in a way that did not look comfortable at all; sitting the wrong way around, curved around it in a manor that for anybody that wasn’t actually a snake, would have been quite impossible

He was wearing new sunglasses. He tended to change them every few years or so, when he got bored of a style, or they fell out of fashion, or simply because he saw a new pair that struck his fancy. It had been an unusually long time since he had updated his look though. In fact, this was the first new pair he had worn since… well, for twelve years.

That was encouraging, Aziraphale supposed. It meant that he was starting to move on, starting to stop worrying about what might happen tomorrow.

He only wished that he could do the same. The night before, as he had sat drinking a cup of cocoa and allowing his mind to wonder in a way that he rarely did anymore, he had imagined that he had Fallen; been cast out of Heaven and into the depths of Hell. That he had awoken as a demon, cut off from God’s love.

On other, similar nights, he had imagined that he and Crowley had become human; that they had been forced to age and eventually to die, and face a different kind of judgement. Other times, he imagined Gabriel standing over him, gloating as he pronounced some torture or another. Whatever it was going to be, he just wanted it over with. He was ready now. He had been ready for a long time.

It couldn’t be as bad as he was imagining.

“Angel?” Crowley asked, concerned now.

Aziraphale shook his head. “Nothing, dear,” he lied. If Crowley was going to move on, he was going to do his best to pretend to do the same. “How about a spot of lunch?”

**

He wasn’t sure how long it had been. A long time; he knew that much. He could probably work it out, if he tried. He didn’t want to. It felt as though it was better not to know.

It had been a long time, and still nothing had happened. He felt sure that by now he should be able to relax, but he just couldn’t. Every time he felt himself enjoying something, or looking to the future, he remembered the threat hanging over his head, and the anxiety returned.

He knew, deep down, that this was the punishment. That it had probably been their plan all along, to keep them guessing to the point of madness, to have them constantly looking over their shoulders, to make sure that they could never again just relax and enjoy the world.

He knew it, but at the same time, he couldn’t be sure. Heaven and Hell could still be biding their time. A judgement could still be waiting around the next corner.

He almost wished that it was. That they would simply make their move, whatever it was, and then leave him to deal with the consequences. He didn’t care what those consequences might be; he just wanted it to be over.

But it never would be, would it? It would always be there, waiting.

Crowley had been right; if Heaven were not better than Hell at punishment, they were at least exactly as good.

He shivered despite the heat of the summer morning, and glanced around the bookshop. It looked different now. Old books sold off, replaced with new. It had happened slowly, so slowly that he had barely noticed that it was happening. One book sold to a particularly enthusiastic collector, another to an old woman that had cried with joy when she had picked up a first edition of her childhood favourite from his shelf, and little by little, his collection had begun to dwindle.

After all, if he could no longer enjoy them, why not sell them on to somebody that could? Only his very favourites remained, in a box in the back room, out of view of customers. It had been a very long time since he had read them, perhaps it was time to sell those too.

He would think about it, when he got back.

He took a deep breath and released a sigh, then turned the sign on the door to ‘closed’ and headed out into the city to meet Crowley in the park.

[kindly-whisper-norbury]

New AO3 Script / Screenplay Tutorial

Some time back I posted a tutorial for how to format CSS and HTML for a screenplay on AO3, but since then I have improved upon it and I wish to now share with you all the (hopefully somewhat better) new version.

I previously had a significant problem with the spacing of certain elements, which would end up breaking the formatting. So recently I spent two days studying and trying code after code until I got it right.

Note that though this formatting makes the screenplay look authentic enough on a computer monitor or on mobile in landscape mode, it does not (in my experience) tend to show up well in portrait mode. This version is at least readable in portrait mode, however, whereas the old version was not. Still, you might like to make an author’s note mentioning that readers in portrait mode may need to use the “hide creator’s style” button, which will take away the formatting:

Okay, let's get to work! First you are going to have to create a new AO3 work skin. Name it whatever you like, then insert this code:

#workskin p { font-family: "Courier Prime", Courier, monospace; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-word; }

#workskin p { margin-left: 5%; }

#workskin p { margin-right: 15%; }

#workskin .indented { padding-left: 15%; padding-right: 25%; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-word; }

#workskin .par { display: block; padding-left: 15%; padding-right: 25%; }

#workskin .character { display: block; padding-left: 25%; }

You can adjust things like the margin and padding percentages to fit your own style, of course!

Now comes the fun part. After you have written your script, make a new draft using your screenplay skin. Then get onto the HTML editor.

The SHOT, SCENE HEADING, and ACTION elements will be left alone. The only tagging necessary for them is < p > (close up the < and >, of course... Tumblr is giving me a hard time about showing it as it really should be) for paragraph transitions. But do be sure to use the < p > tag, or it will break the formatting.

Next are the CHARACTER, PARENTHETICAL, and DIALOGUE elements... which are a bit more involved.

Before blocks of character/parenthetical/dialogue, you need to put the following tag (with closed up < & >): < div class="indented" align="left" > . Note that if there is more than one Character involved with no action breaks in between (in other words, if there is a conversation going on), you do not need to put the tag between each character, just before the first one. Like so:

And be sure to close it back up after the blocks of conversation with < /div >

Next up is CHARACTER, which, as you can see above, is tagged: < p >< span class="character" > CHARACTER NAME< /span >

Notice that there are no line breaks between the < /span > and the dialogue. Due to the nature of < span > if you try to put a line break in there it will turn it into a paragraph break, which doesn't work well for the screenwriting thing. I am sure there is a workaround, but that's what I got for the time being!

Now we come to PARENTHETICALS, which are the bits of action within dialogue:

To tag those, once again do not make a line break, but simply insert this: < span class="par" > then close it after inserting the parenthetical with < /span >

It might be easier to simply visualize, but note that as a personal preference I tend to italicize my parenthetical elements with < em >... you don't have to, that's just my style:

And that is basically it! If you would rather just look at the code than to try and figure out what I was trying to explain (I am not sure I did a good job of that!), here is a basic visual:

This:

Should get you this:

Or something similar, anyway. It may vary on your screen. If you would like to see a live example of how it will look on your monitor or with your device, you can click below to get to a small fic I have formatted this way (it isn't the story sampled above, however, since that is a WIP I have not posted anywhere yet!)

If I have made any mistakes or anything is in need of clarification, let me know! I will do my best to fix it!

[untaemedqueen]

Take One (M)

Pornstar!Yoongi x Fan Fiction Writer!Reader

Genre: Strangers To Lovers!AU, Smut, Fluff

WordCount: 24k

Warnings: Masturbation, Fingering, Big Dick!Yoongi, Slight Dom!Yoongi, Degradation (Slut, Cum Slut), Spanking, Sex Against A Wall, Unprotected Sex, Cream Pie, Phone Sex, Edging, Pussy Slapping, Daddy Kink, Hair Pulling, Cock Slapping, Cum Swallowing, Love Making, Marking, Body Worship, Cunnilingus, Face Fucking, Multiple Orgasms, Possessive!Yoongi, Forced Orgasm, Doggy Style, Impreg Kink

A/N: Again the biggest shout outs to my crew @ppersonna​​, @ladyartemesia​​, @xjoonchildx​​ who are constantly rooting for this fic to come out. I love my ladies so much!!!!!!!

There are three things which Yoongi was certain of. One, he was a big star in his field of work. Two, he had a huge cock, one to rival many of the largest names in his industry. Three, he can only find pleasure these days in written word. 

He has seen so many bodies in his career. So many different women and men that he cared very little for the human form. Now, written word where he could just simply envision a woman of his choosing doing what is described in twelve font Ariel Black ink. That is where he finds his pleasure.

He found himself after a long day on set, looking for mental relief. People make fun of his job, but it's incredibly taxing on one's spirit. He tried for years and years to be not only the best porn star in his field, but the most talked about. He succeeded after not too long, one utterly embarrassing title called 'Little Cat, Bowl of Milk' skyrocketed his success and had people coming back time and time again to his profile on all the major porn sites. He began to realize that success was eating at his bones. He so often found himself not being able to cum as he fucked his co-star half way to Sunday. 

It wasn't about being the greatest anymore, or having the biggest cock in the industry. It was about actually being able to cum without the prop team having to strap a tube on the underside of his cock and pump out this incredibly realistic looking paste that actually looks like jizz. It was practically degrading. And yet, Yoongi only found himself orgasming through reading. 

It was a random happenstance as he was scrolling online. Just looking at a few different blogs on Tumblr before finding a link in their biography stating 'Masterlist'. Finding himself intrigued he clicked on the link, the girl with the pen name Nevermore had countless series of books. She was great at writing, truly understanding her character's complexity and portraying it in such a way that had Yoongi constantly on the edge of his seat. But above all, the sex scenes she wrote were so erotic; so completely entrancing that he began to lose himself in her stories. He had never cum harder than before he read the words she so ardently wrote.

Jumping onto his couch, his feet find their place on the arm as his hand rests beneath his head. "I wonder what's up with Kyla and Bjorn today." He whispers to himself before sipping his beer. Every day of the week waits with bated breath to be Sunday. Nevermore publishes every Sunday at 8 o'clock and Yoongi never misses it. He will even stop a late filming just to read her new chapter. 

Stopping by her blog fills him with a sense of renewal. He first checks her updated page before anything else. She seemed to have an almost poetic soul within her, as if her fingers poured out earnest sentences with cryptic and riddled meaning. It's her latest post that catches his attention, first and foremost, before he can even click on the book's masterlist. He sips his beer as he peruses the post.

Coming Tuesday - Take One. 

Pornstar!Min Yoongi x Reader

Author's Note: I usually research heavily for smut to make it seem the most realistic as possible. I looked into porn to get a sense of what pornstars go through day to day and came across Min Yoongi. Eajsidicjeisoc HE'S UNBELIEVABLE! So the next book will be a fan fiction based on him. And believe me when I say I'M A FAN.

Beer goes flying out of his mouth. Sitting up quickly, his eyes widened at the text. 

"EXCUSE ME?!" He yells loudly before putting his hand over his mouth. 

A voraciously nervous giggle escapes him as his eyes flit to the popcorn ceiling. "Me? She's seen me?" He doesn't know whether to be astonished or incredibly flattered. He was a mere reader, one of the thousands that follow her blog and here he was being featured in one of her gorgeous stories. Would she write him like he is or turn him into a sex god? Someone completely void of feeling like Bjorn? Or someone absolutely brimming with possibility like Kyla? His bottom lip purchases between his teeth as he lets out a happy groan. I guess Tuesdays would be the days to look forward to now.

Sweat builds upon Yoongi’s lean frame as he snaps his hips into his co-star once more. His arm muscles shake as he holds himself above her thin frame, “You like that? Hmm? Like getting pounded by your sister’s husband? You’re such a fucking slut.” He recites his script before wrapping his hand around her neck. She whimpers out, botoxed lips parting for air as she keens loudly.

“Yes! Fuck! More, I’m such a little slut. I want you to fuck me so hard!” She whines and he can feel his energy slipping from him. This isn’t exciting. This doesn’t get him off. It was a trivial part of his job. He knows she’s enjoying it, the way she drools isn’t prompted. The way her eyes roll back every time the head of his cock meets her cervix folds isn’t scripted. He used to savor that. He used to adore fucking his co-stars stupid, making them forget their lines so he could take a break and edge his orgasm away before pile driving into them like a frenzied maniac. Now he just wishes she could hurry up and cum so he could get to the blog. It was Tuesday after all. 

“Oh Christ.” He murmurs out as she cums on his cock for a third time. Her cum squirting onto his thighs as she screeches to the heavens. The camera was solely focused on her battered pussy. And so, with that knowledge he closes his eyes. Picturing, or trying anyway, how Bjorn took Kyla into the fish hut after their summer raid. How he laid her down on the bed of hay and let his wild freeness overcome him. The way he ran his fingers over her nipples deftly. Deftly, that was a word used in the books often that he found himself loving. He remembers reading in obscene vividity how tight Kyla was for Bjorn, signifying that she had not been with a lover since he went to raid England. 

Yoongi finds himself gasping gently as he pictures the scene written just weeks ago by Nevermore’s beautiful hands. His cock was thickening just at the thought and he lets out a loud groan. Pleasure seeping into every nerve of his body as his teeth clamp down on his bottom lip. Picturing someone else beneath him, someone more supple to the touch. Someone who was simple and adoring being underneath him because they wanted to be. 

Alas, he’s ripped from his impending orgasm as his co-star scrapes her ridiculously sharp nails over his arms. He lets out a defeated sigh before opening his eyes. Jaw going slack he waves in the prop team. It’s still disgusting to him, the feel of the tube beneath his cock twitch and pulse as the paste emits from below him. It smells like glue. 

He gives a loud moan, something the director would say is beautiful as the paste lands on the folds of her pussy. He pulls away from her, ripping the tube out from beneath him as she giggles to the camera. Her index finger sneaks its way into her mouth and she gives a ginger bite to it before sighing happily. “Thanks Yidu.” He murmurs before grabbing a pair of boxers from his manager.

“What’s the matter, Yoongi? Can’t seem to get off?” Yidu calls to him as she sits up on her elbows. 

“Not with you or with anyone.” He mumbles to himself before shoving open his dressing room door. 

“What’s wrong with you?! Yidu is hot, man!” His manager, Hoseok says as he closes the door behind them. Yoongi rolls his eyes as he digs into his jacket before pulling out his phone. 

“Hobi. I told you. It’s hard to get off anymore, it’s just so… so-”

“Trivial? Come on, Yoongi! You just had one of the hottest A list porn stars beneath you!” Hobi says before handing Yoongi his coffee as he sits down in the arm chair.

“Then you go fuck Yidu. Give her a good seeing too.” He mumbles as he unlocks his phone. Hoseok scoffs loudly before throwing himself down onto the loveseat. 

“Yeah right! She’d never want to be with me after your eleven inch cock was deep in her kidneys.” Yoongi snorts at his comment before turning around to him. 

“It’s eleven and a half inches. I wish you would get it right.” He jeers before sipping his coffee.

Hoseok didn’t leave him alone for the rest of the afternoon. So, he had to wait with bated breath to read the new book until he got home. Which he finds agreeable since he would want privacy anyway. He’s kind of nervous. Isn’t it odd to read a book about yourself? As flattering as it is? 

What if the book painted him out to be this sex craved monster? He takes a deep breath before unlocking his phone. “Okay.” He whispers before crossing his legs and throwing them up on the couch.

There’s something magical about meeting the right someone. Captivating, even. The way irises flit between one another in a moment of glorious silence. The breath that is held within one’s chest as you stare longingly at the other person before you. Hands could shake from nerves, excitement- both, even. It had never happened for Min Yoongi. Until you. 

Yoongi clears his throat before leaning deeper into the couch cushions. There it is. The master at work. Painting him to be a god among men. A small smirk finds its way on to his lips as he settles in for more.

It took a second to notice him. To see him in a sea of moving bodies. He was a gentle breeze in a vast desert. And, in that second you yearned to know him. 

He was tall. Taller than you by all accounts. His hair was black and long, the gentle spring breeze blowing his bangs into his eyes as he leans against the hotel door waiting for his car. 

Expensive. That’s a word that could describe him even in the darkest of nights. The way his leather jacket clung to him, highlighting his biceps. Even his sunglasses screamed exorbitant. With one foot pressed against the foggy glass of the door, you found yourself walking towards him without any care for yourself. 

His jeans hung low, the crisp white t-shirt he adorned barely covering his pale skin underneath.

“Someone’s been watching ‘To Meet A Man’, hmm?” He quips as his thumb trails slowly over his bottom lip. He was already hooked. Seeing himself as the character and yet, completely setting himself outside of it as well. He was torn between the two and he feels as if he could go on this way forever. 

Stopping in front of him, he tilts his head towards you before smirking. “Can I help you, little one?” His voice was like the sound of a harp. Sharp and melodic. 

“You’re standing in front of the door.” You reply. Your index finger pointed at the foggy glass beneath his foot. He opens his mouth for a fraction of a second before nodding. 

“Thought you recognized me.” He murmurs to himself, opening the door to let you into the hotel. 

“I bet you’d like that.” You smile at him, black sundress rippling through the breeze before entering the hotel. 

“Yes. I think I would like that.”

God, this was enthralling. His toes curl as he reads on. Loving the picturing being painted already. How is it that you made this Min Yoongi so incredibly bold and attractive? How is he not this attractive? 

Yes, okay. He was hot. Undoubtedly. He knows that. But, he never flaunted it if he wasn’t on camera. This Min Yoongi was confident and sound. Surely he could cum on command without having to think of book characters to maybe do it. 

Yoongi wishes he was like his book counterpart. He’s a fan of him.

Stepping on set, he takes in the scene before him. This is something his character in Take One would be into. Tying up his woman Y/N. Pleasing her through and through, making her beg for more just because he could. 

Sipping his coffee he hums to himself as his hand runs over the silken sheets of the prop bed. “Wow. Big budget.” He jokes to Hoseok who snorts as a reply. 

“Your co-star is here.” Hoseok whispers before nodding across the set. Yoongi takes off his leather jacket before looking her over and he internally groans. Nothing like how he pictures Y/N at all in the book. 

“Fine.” He mutters out as he hands his leather jacket to Hoseok.

“When did you start wearing leather?” His long time friend asks as he sniffs the jacket. Yoongi shoos him away before running his fingers through his hair. “Mind your business, Jung!” He snaps before taking off his sunglasses.

He’s worked with this porn star before. She was hot, obviously. The kind of hot that screams high maintenance. And she always brought her dog to set. Which was odd. Also, annoying. Every time it yaps, they would have to start the scene over which for Yoongi used to be great but now, he feels an impending sense of doom as the chihuahua opens its mouth. “Yoongi!” 

Oh yeah, her voice was really high pitched. Something that could break a wine glass if she tried to sing opera. “Candy.” He whispers before kissing her cheek.

He used to be fond of her. Hell, they’d even gone on a date once after they filmed a marriage scene together. She was not for him. Not for anyone that had a clear thinking mind and that could count above fifty. “I’m so excited! You remember Tiberius, don’t you?” She asks as she holds up her dog. 

The small dog growls at Yoongi as he gives a half hearted chuckle, “Of course I do. Hi...Tiberius.” He retracts his hand harshly as the dog nips at the air.

“Let’s go get you dressed. Hmm?” Hoseok asks, hooking a hand over his shoulder. He hums to him as they walk towards his dressing room. “Please, kill me now.” He whispers fiercely, earning a loud laugh from Seok as he pushes open the door. 

Running his hands over Candy's body, he lets out a hum of appreciation. Concentrating on keeping his face steady as the camera pans upward. He pinches her nipples roughly, a gasp emitting through the set as she wiggles her hips cheekily. Would Y/N like that? Would she like his book counterpart to treat her roughly like this? Or would she want to be praised? 

"God, look at your sexy little nipples." He says aloud before slapping her breast. She whines into the camera, pulling on the handcuffs as her legs part wider. "So fucking hard for me." He comments before trailing his tongue around her stiff peaked areola. 

She keens for him and his eyes shut just to shield his eye roll. But as the room fades to black behind his eyelids, he remembers something. Nevermore watches his videos. She watches to get ideas. 

His head turns to the director as he moves out of the way for the camera to take a shot of her wet pussy. "You said free script?" He asks him.

The director waves his hand agreeing before looking back at the monitor. His smirk sends Candy beneath him into a fluster. She eyes him delicately as he spreads her legs. Candy was good at this though, rolling off the cuff with whatever her co-stars do. 

Yoongi taps his palm to her pussy before rubbing slow circles on her clit. "Look at you, baby. Aching for my big cock. You remember when I met you outside of the hotel? In my leather jacket?" She whimpers at the stimulation before nodding. 

"You looked so good for me. I wanted to just tear you apart." He hums at her words before pulling his cock out of his briefs. 

"I asked if I could help you, little one. But it's you who'll be helping me. Suck my cock." He instructs as he shoves his cock towards her face. Saying the lines from Nevermore's story, acting like his book counterpart sends his nerve endings aflame. 

His body tingles with satisfaction and the smile that creeps onto his face is one of pure joy as his cock enters her lips.

Throwing yourself down onto your roommates bed, she raises an eyebrow at you before folding her arms. "What's with the face?"

"Viiii." You whine loudly before burying your head into her pillow. She scoffs gently before laying down next to you. 

"Are you stuck with your writing?" You whinge loudly in agreement before rolling on to your back. 

Twirling her hair around her finger, she snorts gently before leaning against the headrest of her bed. "What part are you on? Hurry up Taehyung is coming over in forty minutes to take me out on a date." 

"Oh Taehyung is more important than your best friend ever that is going through a crisis?!" You faun shock as you sit up on your knees. She laughs, kicking out her feet before rolling her eyes. 

"No. Well...He has a big dick so getting dicked down might be more important but anyway, back to your crisis." Your lips sputter as you giggle before crossing your legs beneath you.

"She's going to have sex with Min Yoongi." You tell her and she hums before tilting her head.

"And? Your smut is hot. Just do what you always do. Fuck her till she's crying." She states plainly and you can't help but chortle at her words.

"But he's a fucking porn star. I don't know how to just-" You intertwine your fingers before smacking them together repeatedly.

"Okay, the word is cohesion. Whatever the fuck that is you think your doing- is gross so please stop that." You pout at her and she pokes your nose before grabbing her laptop with a gentle grunt. 

"Let's get some ideas for your dirty sex romp." She whispers before opening up the laptop.

Skimming through the videos, the thumbnails make your eyes go wide. "How does she do that?!" Viola asks loudly before trying to pick up her leg and put it behind her head.

"Seems like the work of the devil." You murmur before continuing to scroll. 

"Look! A new one! 'Cuffs and Leather.' Sounds lethal." She wiggles her eyebrows at you and you nudge her with a laugh before opening up the video.

Right off the bat it's filthy. And, you can't help the way your body leans in as his hand grazes over her bare sides. "God, his voice is so rich and dreamy." Your roommate comments as he tells her how pretty her nipples are.

Your thighs press together unconsciously before tilting your head. His eyes seem alight with mischief as they look deeply into the camera. It makes something inside of you stir almost innately. "She's pretty." Viola whispers before leaning back against the headrest.

"Look at you, baby. Aching for my big cock. You remember when I met you outside of the hotel? In my leather jacket?" Those words send your heart lurching.

"No fucking way." Viola yells as she sits up quickly. Your head whips to her as your eyes go wide. 

"No way. No FUCKING way!" She screams before cupping her mouth.

"I asked if I could help you, little one. But it's you who'll be helping me. Suck my cock." His voice, the teasing tone sends you rigid. Your throat dries up and all you emit is a squeak as Viola slaps her fingers onto the spacebar pausing the video.

"Oh my FUCKING GOD. Y/N!" Her screams sound foggy to your ears as your heartbeat begins to fill the void of noise. He's seen it. He's fucking READ it. 

Your face goes red as you stare at the screen. Your left eye begins to twitch as Vi presses her hands to your shoulders and shakes you. Her squeals bring you back to reality and you cover your face with your hands. "That's so amazing! He's read Take One!" She cheers happily and you begin to feel sick.

Your stomach rolls, a cold sweat creeping onto your skin as you put your hand to your forehead. "No." You whisper to yourself before laying back onto her plethora of pillows.

"Yes! This is incredible!"

"No." It's weaker this time as she straddles you. Jumping up and down happily and your body moves freely atop the mattress like a limp noodle. 

"Y/N! What are you going to do?!" She squeals as she shakes you around.

"Delete it." You say before looking up at her. She stops for a second before going wide eyed. 

"What?! Delete it?! No! What're you talking about?!" She says quickly as you grab your phone from her bedside table.

"I have to delete it. This is embarrassing. I mean, he has read something I made for myself and-" You go to unlock your phone and Viola scoffs loudly. 

"No! Give me the phone." She says loudly and you begin to wrestle atop her mattress.

"I HAVE TO DELETE IT. HE SAW WHAT I WROTE! I USED MY OWN NAME IN A FIC!" You yell out as you pin her beneath you. But, she has the grip of a strong barbarian as she shoves your phone down her tank top.

"No! If he didn't like it he would have just ignored it! But, if he had enough balls to put it in a porn! Then you know, he likes it! And he doesn't know your name!" She says. 

You grimace at your phone in her shirt before folding your arms. Maybe she was right. Maybe, he did like it. "So what am I supposed to do?" You ask her as she pushes you off of her. 

Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she leans in. Fingertip pressing to the tip of your nose as she smirks. "You're going to write the hottest smut in existence and send Min Yoongi, the porn star cumming in his expensive Dior briefs." She says before fishing your phone out of her shirt and throwing it at you.

"That's disgusting." You whine as you wipe your phone. She shrugs before popping a piece of gum into her mouth.

"You've written sex scenes where men run an actual fucking train on a girl and she's covered in like four different types of cum. Get over it." She says before blowing a bubble. You roll your eyes at her before looking back down at the scene. 

He wouldn't have said something if he didn't like it. He would have just gone on with life as it were. "Now go write your cute little brain away." She says before shooing you out of her room.

"What're you going to do?" You ask as you jump out of her bed.

"Get ready to get fucked by Taehyung. Duh." She says before rifling through her closet. 

With a snort you shut the door behind you before sighing loudly. "Okay, Yoongi. It's on." You whisper before cracking your knuckles and walking towards your bedroom.

Yoongi throws himself on his bed. The California King size is way too large for him. It's seen only him for years now and he can't seem to get as comfortable in the constantly cold sheets like he used to.

Propping his pillows up, he leans against the headboard. Tuesday, the greatest day of the week has arrived. He wonders if you've seen the video that was just released. Did you hate it? Were you too caught up to watch it? He has so many questions that he could speak outwardly just to fall on deaf ears and stagnant air. 

Opening up today's chapter, his eyes scan the regular genre and warnings. But the author's note-- that catches his eye.

Author's Note: I SEE that someone really enjoyed the first chapter of TO and for that...I'm very grateful.

He clears his throat loudly before sighing. The smile that radiates off his face would blind even the most ardent sun lover. His fingers tremble, heart beating voraciously inside of his chest. It takes him a second before he's ready to continue on.

"She saw it." He whispers to himself before sniffing gently.

Crossing his feet he scrolls down the page. Eyes reading the words so fast due to sheer excitement that he has to read them over again to absorb their meaning.

It was the coldest of nights when he invited you back to his hotel room. You knew he was only going to be around for so long and you felt the pressing need to see him for as long as you could. 

You had always made fun of coffee dates. Always joking and jeering with the ever so clever roommate you heartily loved. Ana was your rock in a very baron land. She implored you to go on the date with him anyway, knowing his career and who he was. Maybe he would be different than every other man, or maybe he would just be the best lay.

"You thought coffee was only for cheapskates, huh?" Yoongi asks as he ushers you into the hotel room.

With a giggle you past the entrance, "Something me and my roommate Ana have said before." 

He hums understanding before closing the door behind him. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea. Just because I have the job I do, doesn't mean that I invited you back here to fuck." He says as you shrug off your coat.

He graciously takes it before hanging it on the door hook. "When will I ever get to fuck the esteemed Min Yoongi again?" You quip back to him as you fold your arms.

His smile dazzles you. Sets your breathing irregular as he cards his fingers through his black hair. "Oh, little one. Quite often I hope." He whispers before stepping towards you.

His hands press to your sides, caressing them gently as his head tilts to the side. Cinnamon brown irises flitting from here to there as he drinks you in. His pupils begin to widen, like molten hot tar spreading over the Earth. "I enjoy spending time with you. And, I'm okay with doing just that." He whispers, running his thumb over your bottom lip slowly. 

The smooth pad of his thumb sends your stomach alight with something akin to fire. Burning hot and bright inside of you, you step closer to him. "And I'm okay with being here. With you." 

He takes your words as a confirmation. Pressing his lips eagerly to yours, you find yourself melting in his strong arms. Lips collide, tongues lashing out at one another as you grip tightly at his biceps. 

It's your earnest whimper that sends him into action. His greedy hands grabbing at your thighs before hauling you up easily. "God, your lips are so soft. I bet they'll feel like heaven around my cock." He whispers against you.

His feet pad slowly across the granite floor before you're pressed up against the grey wall of his hotel room. Your fingers knit into his black hair, tugging gently as you angle his face higher. Nipping at your bottom lip, he suckles once coaxing a sweet moan from your throat. "Fuck." He growls as your legs wrap around his waist.

Yoongi chuckles to himself before pulling his erect cock from his briefs. "What're you playing at Nevermore?" He murmurs as his thumb slowly drifts over the reddened tip of his cock. 

His lips trail over your cheek, the kisses erupting a lava like pool within your stomach. Your lips part for air as he suckles away at your collarbone, leaving cherry blossom petals in his wake. "You're incredible." He says, before pulling down the low cupped shirt you wear.

Your breasts spring out, pushed up by the cups and he lets out a wanton groan at the sight. "God, look at your sexy nipples."

He lets out a breathy laugh, fist beginning to jerk at his cock faster. His tongue licks over his lips before moaning. "Oh fuck. She really watched it. So hot." He whispers to the still air of his room. Even with lust filled eyes, he pays attention to every written word. Gasping gently at each moment as he reads it through. 

His lips, colder now against your heated skin, drift over the valley of your breasts. Stopping over each areola to pluck at your stiff nipples. Your gasps elicit the only reaction worthy, his hips thrusting against you with each sound. "Shit." He curses before suckling harshly at the sensitive skin. 

His tongue flicks so fast against your stiff peaks that your head lolls back with heady wanting. It's in this moment that his name rolls off of your tongue. He stops for a second, fingers kneading at your ass before smirking. "Say it again." He commands through gritted teeth before slapping the thick globes beneath his palms.

"Y-Yoongi." You whimper out and his eyes roll back before latching onto your attended breast. His hands bunch up your skirt tugging roughly at the fabric. "You wet for me? Hmm?" 

His fingers dip between your asscheeks, feeling at the fabric of your panties. Your breath hitches as he pushes them aside. Running his fingertips over your folds, you whine out his name. "You're soaked, little one. Jesus." He thrusts a finger into you without warning-

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Yoongi chants as his cock throbs in hand. His phone clatters to the pillow beside his face as his eyes screw shut. "Oh Christ!" He whines loudly before cumming. 

In a sea of stars, he sees the image of Y/N so clearly as he orgasms. Ropes of cum smatter onto his raggedly breathing chest. He gasps loudly before tilting his head to his phone. "Fuck. She's good." He whispers before looking down at his chest and throwing his head back to his pillow.

Yoongi groans loudly as he sits down on set. The Americano in his hand getting cooler by the second as he skims through the script for what seems like the hundredth time. 

"Hoseok tells me you have suggestions." Namjoon, the director says. Yoongi smirks at him before nodding. He holds his hand out to his manager who grunts gently. With a sigh he hands Yoongi the packet of papers before shaking his head.

"This. This is gold. Just read it." He tells the director as he hands him the packet. His thumb skims over the pages before giving a defeated sigh. 

"Okay. I'll read it." He says before looking over at Yoongi's co-star. She smiles briefly, nodding in his direction and he feels a sense of calmness.

His co-star today was one of the better ones. She was sweet, naturally pretty and fun to have banter with. "Lin. Hey." He calls to her as the director skims through the packet.

"Hey Yoongs!" She cheers. Walking over, he finds himself staring at her. She would make a good Y/N, most of the things described in Take One would fit her nicely. She leans against his chair casually before running her fingers through her hair. 

"I heard we might be switching it up." She points her thumb backwards to Namjoon as he continues to read.

"Yeah. I just...read this idea somewhere and I thought it was great." Yoongi announces to her as Hoseok grabs her a chair. 

Sitting down she nods calmly, "What's it about?" 

"Steamy first date sex. Coming back after a coffee date and just fucking up against the wall. It was pretty hot." He admits, thinking back to the sheer amount of cum that landed on his chest because of it.

"You have the arm strength to hold me up?" Lindy jokes as she pushes him with her shoulder.

"You still have those thighs of steel? I might need your help on this one." She gives a laugh before turning her attention to the director. 

"Genius." Namjoon comments as he smacks his palm to the top page of the packet, "Let's do it." 

Yoongi smiles widely before looking at Lindy as she grabs the packet. 

"You're soaked little one. Jesus." Yoongi mumbles against Lindy's neck as he thrusts a finger in without warning. She moans loudly, eyes screwing shut as he expertly curls his finger within her.

His cock was so hard already, knowing you would watch this and knowing that it's from your book. Lindy was quick at learning the lines, expertly acting as the perfect Y/N he could only hope for. 

"Fuck!" She curses, nails gently scraping down his arms. He groans gently, suckling at the column of her throat as he adds a second finger. 

"Your pretty pussy is so tight." He says as he scissors her open, her arousal practically dripping down his hand. 

"Y-Yoongi." The gentle tone in her voice makes his arms quake. Y/N would whimper for him like this he bets. 

Picking her back up off of the wall, Lindy discards her top. It's almost feverishly fast how his lips attach to her nipple. Groping at the skin of her ass, kneading roughly he spanks her hard. She gasps loudly, breasts thrusting towards his face. 

"Once I saw you, I only wanted this. To feel you in my hands like putty. To-" He scissors her pussy open wider for his cock, "-To feel your soaked cunt stretch around my big cock." 

His hand leaves her cunt only to unbutton his jeans. She kisses down his neck, nipping gently at the skin in her euphoric pleasure. "I want your big cock inside of me." 

He groans at her words, pressing her harder into the wall. Cock springing out, he coats the underside in her arousal before lifting her easily by her thighs. "Thighs of steel, get ready." He jokes, almost silently into Lindy's ear and he can hear a gentle snort in reply. 

He positions her entrance above his cock before pressing his lips to hers. The kiss is heated, tongues tangling with one another as he slowly sets her down. Her mouth opens wider at the stretch, his teeth biting and pulling at her bottom lip with a moan. 

"God, you're fucking tight." He mumbles as her hands snake around his neck. 

He was in his element now. Thinking of the book and becoming his book counterpart. Knowing just how crazed Yoongi in the texts becomes at the feel of Y/N's pussy on him. He could practically cum right now on the spot and it sends him into a pleased fury. 

"Y/N." He whispers, closing his eyes. He doesn't realize what he has said until Lindy leans in to him. 

"Easy now, big guy. Don't put your girlfriends name in." His eyes snap open before clearing his throat. 

"Sorry, Lin." He says before thrusting roughly within her. Her hands scramble to grip him tighter as he begins to fuck her for all she's worth.

"Goddammit! You feel so fucking good! Oh shit!" He whines loudly and his eyes flutter shut as he pictures Y/N on his cock. 

Teeth gritting, he rolls his hips filling every nook and cranny of her cunt. She was the perfect vessel for this, transporting him to a cloud high above nine as he bulldozes himself inside of her. Every sound, Lin's gasps and moans send him on the right track of hearing Y/N's voice. She was practically alive off the page for him. 

"Fuck! Your cock feels so good!" She whines as he lifts her hips off of the wall. His tongue licks over his lips as his cock impales her deeper. 

"Rub your clit for me, little one." Bunching up her skirt, she rubs at her clit and he can feel his cock already throbbing. He should keep himself at bay, finish the scene but this was the first time he would be finishing inside someone in almost two years. He can't pass this up.

"Yoongs." Lindy warns as he presses his lips into a straight line. 

"God, little one. You're going to make me cum, your pussy feels too fucking good." He skipped a bunch of lines to get to this one. He can't bring himself to feel sorry though as white hot pleasure courses through him. He could see her behind his shielded eyes, could see Y/N drooling for his big cock as he fucks her. He could hear her whimpers and moans as he fucks her open. 

He could feel Lin's fingers moving in frenzied circles to get off on him and he chokes on a moan as he buries his face into her neck. "Y/N. Fuck. Your pussy is so amazing. Oh, God!" He whines as his cock throbs wildly within her begging for release.

In her heady pleasure, she forgoes chiding him. Instead, she orgasms loudly. Moans ricocheting off the walls of the set as her pussy clamps around his huge cock. "Y/N! Oh shit!" He gasps out loudly as his thighs lock.

He doesn't notice the camera panning to where they're conjoined. He certainly doesn't notice how much he babbles Y/N's name. Lin runs her fingers through his hair, tugging roughly and that's all it takes before he's stuttering inside of her. 

"Oh SHIT!" He yells out as his cock gives a final twitch of pleasure. He cums hard, arms and thighs shaking as her pussy becomes painted white with his seed. Her thighs clamp around him, holding herself up as he practically goes limp before her. His eyes fill with pleasurable tears and he brings himself back to reality to hold her to the wall.

Pulling out of her gently, he finds it immensely satisfying to see his cum finally leak from a pussy after so long. He moves out of the way of the camera before running his fingers through his hair. "Oh fuck." He murmurs realizing now what he's said in his hedonistic pleasure.

"Please cut out Y/N's name." He tells Namjoon who simply nods as Lindy spreads her pussy lips for the camera. She sticks her tongue out at Yoongi and he gives an exhausted chuckle before closing his eyes. Nevermore is the first person to make him cum like this in years.

"You alright?" Lin asks as the prep team cleans her up. Yoongi sighs happily before nodding to her. 

"Oh yeah, I'm great. Sorry I said her name during that." He tells her and she scoffs before rolling her eyes.

"Don't apologize. It felt good to be Y/N." She says before kissing his cheek. 

It felt really good to be Yoongi too.

Sitting down in your living room, it's become a ritual now-- or so Viola says, to watch every new porn Min Yoongi puts out. "This is the most canon like thing that's ever happened in my lifetime." Vi says as she throws herself down beside you. 

She scrolls through the new video playlist before casting it onto your television. Opening a bag of chips, she holds it out to you. 

"I'll probably choke." You murmur as you settle in to watch the new video. She snorts loudly before munching on a chip. 

"This is so exciting. You know, I cancelled a date with Taehyung for this." She informs you before pressing play. Placing a pillow on your lap you bury your chin into the soft fabric before tilting your head to her.

"What's the name of this one?" 

"'Cheap dates.'" She says before throwing the remote onto the coffee table and giving the screen her undivided attention.

"You're soaked little one. Jesus." Yoongi whispers and the embarrassed laugh that bubbles forward is almost ridiculous. You bury your face into the pillow and you get a quick swat on your arm from your best friend reprimanding you.

"Pay attention! He's fingering her." You laugh louder now, picking your head up slowly. 

It's almost like a fever dream. Watching him reenact the scenes you've so earnestly written. After the initial shock and horror of it all, it kind of became flattering. Knowing that he was so into it. There was something inside of you stirring. 

"Goddammit. You feel so fucking good." You say right before he says his line. The overwhelming sense of pride you feel while watching this makes your heart swell. It’s almost as if he was your greatest supporter. It’s a deeper understanding of knowing how connected you are just by the words you write. 

“It really is exactly like the second chapter.” Viola says. Her voice rips you out of your day dream like state. 

You watch as Yoongi becomes almost animalistic, driving himself into the woman wrapped around him. It stirs you, your thighs pressing together inherently as your lips part. 

“He seems like he’s real into it. Look at him.” Your best friend murmurs and you can’t deny her words as he skips half of the scene in his deep seated pleasure. As he buries his face in her neck you can hear his soft grunting and babbling like there’s no tomorrow.

“Y/N.” The end of your name gets tapered off quickly and you sit up quickly at his moan. Your pussy clenches around nothingness, head turning to your roommate as her jaw drops wide open.

“Did you just hear him s-” Your voice is cut off by hers as she leans in to look at the television.

“Oh yeah.” She whispers before covering her mouth with her hand. 

It’s an awkward silence as he finishes his scene. Heart racing at the speed of sound. Your palms begin to sweat as you stare at his lusty haze. Watching his arms and legs shake with bouts of euphoria. “Y/N. This is… I mean… He’s thinking of you when he fucks someone else.” Vi whispers.

“No. He’s thinking of the book character. I’m just Nevermore to him.” You feel a sense of overwhelming pride as he gently sets his co-star down on the ground. Her pussy creams with his cum before the video ends and you find your body hurtling itself back into the couch with a sigh. 

“Post a selfie.” Viola says quickly before throwing your phone into your lap. Your head turns to her in confusion as she waves her arms wildly. 

“What?!” Your voice is exasperated as she moves her hands faster. 

“Post a selfie on your blog and as soon as he likes the post then just take it down.” She says before unlocking your phone for you. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, not truly understanding what she’s trying to get at.

“Why?”

“Because you’re fucking hot and he needs to know what you look like! Just trust me! Did I get the hottest guy in a four mile radius to talk to me by just posting a selfie?” You nod slowly to her and she winks at you.

“Trust me. Just do it.” You shrug before opening up your camera. 

“Pull these babies out.” Viola says as she pulls down your tank top to show your cleavage and you narrow your eyes at her as she shifts you around before humming to herself.

Fixing your hair, you tilt your head and she tuts her tongue beside you. “Just lips and tits.” She tells you and you sigh gently.

“Why?” You ask again.

“Because your eyes are the element of surprise. Just listen to me for once in your life, please.” 

Sighing loudly you do as told, taking a picture of your lips and the curvature of your cleavage. Viola hooks her chin over your shoulder before smiling. “Wow, your boobs look great.” She comments before patting your upper back. 

Opening up Tumblr, you attach the photo before looking at Vi. She grabs the phone before smirking and you read over her shoulder as she types in a comment.

Feeling like Y/N today!

You snort as she posts it, breath catching in your throat as she replays the porn video. 

“What’re you going to do after the shoot?” Yoongi asks his manager as he slings his leather jacket over his shoulders in one smooth motion. He watches Hoseok shift from foot to foot awkwardly. Raising an eyebrow, he leans against the door jamb waiting patiently for a response. 

“I’m actually going out with Lindy today. We...um...Started talking after your last shoot.” Hoseok mumbles. 

Yoongi gives him a gummy smile before clapping him on the back. “Have fun. She’s really nice, seriously.” 

Pulling out his phone, Yoongi takes into account how Hoseok smiles to himself before fixing his clothes. It’ll be good for him to go out with someone. Yoongi knows exactly what it’s like to be lonely. “I’ll head out first then.” Hoseok tells him as he opens up his Tumblr app.

“Have fun, go fuck her so hard she’ll feel it in her kidneys or whatever you say.” Hoseok snorts at his words before tapping his hand against the door frame as he leaves. Picking up his shoulder bag, the first thing he thinks is if Nevermore has watched his latest video.

He hasn’t seen it but he never watches his works after they’re released. There’s something truly cringey about it. Since it was Sunday, a new chapter of Bjorn and Kyla is out. The second to last chapter which seems almost heart wrenching before remembering he has his own story that has only just begun. Clicking on her profile, his legs quake at the image. 

“Oh shit.” He whispers at her selfie. 

She was all natural. No botox like he’s used to seeing. No breast implants. Just Nevermore. And from what he could see, she was right up his alley. There was a small seam between her tank top and breast showing black lace from her bra. His bottom lip finds itself tucked between his teeth as he leans against the door frame. God, she looks cute. Her lips are parted and he imagines his tongue dipping between them, caressing the pink petals. 

His pants begin to tighten and he locks his phone without a second thought.

Getting home for him was almost a blur. Nevermore's lips and chest constantly in the forefront of his brain. Her lips just gently parted as they were, they seemed to hold an innocence to them that intrigued him. She writes such glorious works, the filthiest of sex scenes and she still had this air of innocence. He was so enraptured by a quick glimpse of a photo that he was even wondering if he himself were changing. Changing into a man who wished for something deeper, something fulfilling. 

Throwing himself down on his couch, he unlocks his phone. Her picture was gone from his dashboard and he sighs gently. 

"Damn." He whispers before refreshing the page again. Just a single post from her. Just one line that sent his lips into a full on smile.

Just a taste for you.

It was kind of exciting. This backhanded flirting that you two have gotten yourselves into over a mere book. You would write and he would act. He would moan your name, close his eyes and dream as if he was inside your book. You would write with the intention to see him act it out. 

Yoongi sips his coffee, the first Tuesday he's had off in a long time does not come without excitement. Refreshing your blog, he tilts his head at the new chapter. "What're we getting into today." He whispers before leaning back in his chair.

Softly his fingertips caress your skin, eyes alight with wondrous emotions as you stare at each other in the grandiose bed. The morning sun alerts you, it's golden rays peeking in the window as if to chide you for not having slept all night long.

"I think I love you." Yoongi admits, his voice deep with tiredness as his arm encircles your waist. You begin to smile, eyes creasing with delight. Running your fingers through his black hair, you feel his lips against your shoulder.

"I think I love you too." You whisper before giggling as he straddles you.

"Let me make love to you and show you-" 

"Oh God." Yoongi mumbles as he sets down his coffee. Love? God, what even is that? Now he really wishes that he was like his book counterpart. So sure and sound with himself that he could venture out to find love with other people. It almost nauseates him as he continues reading. Jealousy creeping up inside of him like venom. 

Nevermore's beautifully written words make him seem devoid of feeling anything at all. He wants to be this Yoongi, so badly it's almost eating him alive.

His fingers press the backspace before opening up the messenger page. Clicking on her name he tilts his head as his fingers fly over the keyboard.

Min1993: I don't make love, Nevermore.

Sending the message, he hums to himself. Before he can pick up his coffee he widens his eyes. "Oh fuck! You idiot what did you do?!" He yells before trying to will his phone to unsend the message.

With an exasperated sigh, he throws his arms up annoyed with himself. Shoving his phone away, he buries his face in his arms before scoffing.

"I don't make love." He mocks himself before closing his eyes.

"VIOLA GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!" The screech that emits from you earns a clattering in the kitchen and wild cursing. You stand up from your phone as if it has caught fire, both of your hands slapping over your mouth. Your eyes widen at the message, the five words on the screen feel as if they're stabbing you.

"What?!" Viola yells as she stomps into your bedroom. With shaking hands, you point at your phone before swallowing. She hip checks you out the way, drying her hands on the kitchen towel. 

"I just broke the ceramic dish me and Taehyung made at the pott- OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!" She screams as she drops the towel. She jumps on your bed, picking up your phone and you close your eyes. 

Writing for him and seeing what he does is one thing. Getting a message from him is clearly another thing altogether. It's with a shaky sigh that you run your hands over your face. 

"He messaged you. I can't believe it and-" She looks over the message before smirking, "He's flirting with you."

With a scoff you look up at the ceiling. Your eyes drift from here to there, not focusing on anything with certainty. Drifting past one of his porns randomly had gotten you here? Flirting with one of the hottest men you'd ever seen in your life. This was like fiction in and of itself. Pushing past your insecurities, your insides clamor with excitement. Arms and legs shaking with adrenaline. 

"Go on! Answer him!" Vi says before pulling you down to sit next to her. Your hands quiver as you take the phone from her, thumbs nervously shivering above the keyboard.

NevermoreWrites: Then what do you do, Yoongi?

"God, imagine if he asks you out on a date? Imagine he fucks you?" She asks, getting comfortable on your bed. 

Her voice falls on deaf ears as you stare at the phone. That nervous niggling beginning to eat at you again. This banter that you'll begin to engage in, where will it lead you? If he wants to meet, you would dare show your face to him? Even after describing Y/N in the books exactly like yourself? 

The insanely loud pop of the Tumblr messenger goes off and you jump from your nervous spell to look at your phone. 

Min1993: I would love to give you some pointers. If you'd be interested. I think myself more of a Bjorn than anything else.

You gasp gently, sending Viola scrambling into your lap. He's read your other books before? Oh God! 

"Amazing! He's amazing! It's official and he has a huge cock!" Viola says before slapping her thighs in a defeated manner.

NevermoreWrites: A Bjorn? Wow, I'm impressed. 

You run your sweaty hands over the knees of your sweatpants. You tilt your head to Viola as she smiles widely. 

Min1993: I've been a fan for a long time Nevermore. Seriously, I have ideas. Give me a call 3721-8724.

Both of you in your room lowly whistle at the same time before laying back on your bed. Your heart beat fills your ears as your roommate giggles. You lay silently for a while before turning to look at one another. 

"So you gonna call him?" She asks quietly as you put your hand over your heart.

"Mhm." You hum to her before beginning to smile. Maybe this project that you began for just yourself is turning into something even bigger than you could ever imagine.

Yoongi doesn't do nervous. He hasn't been nervous since his first audition where he had to have his cock measured. But now, waiting for your phone call, he finds himself incredibly nervous.

Throwing the fourth empty water bottle in the trash, he paces around his kitchen. Even after drinking so much water, his mouth still felt dry. He even put on nice clothes for a phone call. "Something is wrong with me." He whispers to his empty apartment.

This woman, that he's waiting on. The woman he's been a fan of for so long now is going to call him. And, he hopes to the new gods and the old that he doesn't make a fool of himself. Pacing the granite floor of the kitchen, he wills himself to keep his eyes off his phone. Staring at the clock of his oven instead as seconds feel like years. 

It's the ringtone that makes him jump. Knocking over the container of kitchen tools on his counter, he curses before picking up his phone. Taking a deep breath, he answers the call.

"Hello?" His voice is steady, which he is grateful for. But the way his chest vibrates with anxiousness makes him grimace.

"Hi." Your voice is soft. Sending shivers down his spine as he leans against the marble countertop. Your voice sounds so sweet to his ears. 

"Nevermore." The word becomes breathless as he begins to smile.

"Yoongi." 

God, his name from your lips is gold. Shoving off of the counter, his heart finds its regular rhythm. His feet pad to the living room before flopping onto the couch with a sigh.

"I am a big fan of your work." He admits to you. You giggle at his compliment, sending butterflies aflutter in his gut.

“And I am a big fan of your work.” He gives a devious chuckle, his arm finding its way beneath his head as he gets comfortable.

“God, this is nerve wracking.” You say and he can hear your breathless laugh behind it.

The image of your lips, parted ever so slightly and your cleavage come to mind. Swiping his tongue over his lips, he doesn’t find it odd how at ease he has already begun to feel.

“I thought the same thing, but your voice is very calming.” Even without seeing you, he likes to think you’re smiling as widely as he is at his words. 

“Yours too.” You whisper and he can hear shuffling on the other end of the line.

“I really am a big fan. I’ve read all of your books before even seeing that you were writing a series about me.” His fingers play with the hem of his charcoal grey button up shirt as he stares at the ceiling.

“Did I get anything right so far?” You ask him quietly. Your voice was as eloquent as your writing. Every word sounded like a song he never could tire from.

“Some things. I’m a fan of the Yoongi in your book. He’s much braver than me, I like how you portray me. Far better than myself, I’m sure.” He hears you snort gently and he chuckles in return.

“Just because you fuck as a job, doesn’t mean you aren’t human.” You tell him. And, the curse that slips past your lips begins to stir something inside of him.

“You did however get something wrong.” He murmurs, his voice becoming a bit more gravelly as he runs his hand over his chest. The gasp you take, the quick sound has his tongue slowly traipsing along his lower lip as he begins to smirk.

“What did I get wrong?” You ask and the nervousness bubbles through easily. Clearing your throat, he takes that second to chuckle to himself.

“Oh, Nevermore. I don’t make love. I fuck every way till Sunday.” His voice is smooth as velvet, and he finds his cock beginning to stir in his jeans.

“Oh God.” Your voice is faint and you sound like you’re about to pass out.

“I can stop. Or I can show you my ideas on how to make it feel more like me. If you want, we can always just talk about Bjorn or Kyla. What the last chapter is going to be about next week.” He says quickly, hoping he didn’t give you the impression that all he wants is to have phone sex. Because, in all honesty, he doesn’t. He wants to get to know you. Wants to know how your wonderful brain can write such amazing, illuminating things. But, the prospect of you all for him right now is something he cannot pass up.

“No...No. I just haven’t done something like this in a long time.” You admit with a laugh. He chuckles to himself before pulling his arm out from beneath his head.

“We’ll take it slow.” He murmurs before hearing your hum of agreeing.

“Tell me your name. Please.” He hears your unsure hum and he tilts his head. Forehead resting to the couch cushion as he practically feels your hesitant stutter.

“Or don’t. I can call you Nevermore.” He says quickly, hoping to not ruin the mood.

“Y/N.” You whisper.

He chuckles at this. Eyes closing before sniffing. But, you don’t laugh along with him.

“Y/N? Like in the book?” He asks humorously. 

“Yes. Like in the books. My name is Y/N.” Your voice is devoid of any playfulness. Yoongi sits up quickly, fingers carding through his black hair as he nods. You were deathly serious. But, it doesn’t put him off. No. If anything his cock strains harder against the unforgiving tightness of his jeans. With a sigh, he unbuttons them before licking his lips. 

“Fuck. That’s hot.” He announces and the breath of relief you give makes him lay back down. 

“It was supposed to be for me and my readers… I-I never thought that you would re-”

“Y/N.” His voice is quick as he cuts you off, “Shall we begin, little one?”

He can hear your sweet low whine before you hum in agreement. Unbuttoning his shirt slowly, he lets his fingers drift over the smooth skin of his chest.

“You got my cock real hard over here, baby. I’m thinking about that cute little picture you posted for me.” He whispers as he unzips his jeans. 

“Did you like it?” The softness of your voice sends his nerves wrought with excitement.

“Fuck yes. You should have kept it up just a little longer. I was getting hard in public over your little slutty display.” Your gasp elicits a groan from his throat. 

“I wanted you to see how much I appreciated you using my scene in one of your movies.” He finds it cute that you don’t use the word porn like it isn’t something he does almost every day. 

“You can show me now how much you appreciate it. What’re you wearing?” He asks as he tugs off his jeans, throwing them over the lip of the couch without a care. 

“I’m wearing just panties and a t-shirt.” You reply and he groans louder at the thought.

“Fuck. You’re going to take everything off for me, do you understand?” He asks as he discards his button up shirt to the floor.

“Yes.” He curses quietly at your submissive answer before pulling his cock out of his briefs. 

“Your lips looked so pretty parted like that. I want them around my cock.” His hand shakes as he reaches for the length of his cock. Precum beginning to pool at the slit as you keen on the other end of the phone. 

“I’ve wanted to feel you all over me since I first saw your videos.” You admit to him.

“Fuck, I bet you do baby. Touch your nipples for me.” 

With a gentle gasp, you reach for your breasts. Your breath is hitched as you cup them in hand. “Roll your nipple with your fingers and pinch.” He instructs you and your hips bow off the bed at his request.

God, how were you here doing this right now? With him? THE Min Yoongi having phone sex with you. 

Whimpering, you roll your nipples between your fingertips. “I bet you look so pretty playing with your tits, little one.” The use of the pet name that you wrote for him sends you into a frenzy. Stomach unfurling with lava like heat as your legs spread wider on the bed.

“Yoongi, please. I need more.” You beg. The devilish chuckle he gives has liquid arousal seeping out of you towards the mattress.

“You need more? You’ve already seen my cock. I need to picture what your sweet cunt would feel like around me. How you would beg me to fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day.” You pant at his words, breath devoid in your chest as your toes curl.

“Touch your aching pussy for me, then.” He whispers and you hear his breath hitch on the other end of the line. Your hand dips down your stomach, all the while your fingers continue to pinch and roll your nipples. 

Spreading your pussy lips, you’ve surely never felt yourself this wet before. “My pussy is so wet for you.” 

“Jesus, fuck.” He mutters out and you try to imagine how he looks right now. Laying down with his bottom lip clasped between his teeth. Droplets of sweat sticking to his black sideburns. “I bet your pussy is nice and swollen, hmm? Your clit is probably real sensitive, begging to be touched. Why don’t you rub your clit for me, little one?” 

Doing as told you run your middle finger around your clit in gentle circles. Pressing your lips into a straight line you whimper out quietly. He tuts his tongue in a way that makes your eyes roll back. “Who told you to keep quiet? I want to hear you, Y/N.” 

“Fuck.” You mumble through gritted teeth. Hearing your name actually fall from his lips as he pleases himself, knowing it’s really you who he’s giving his pleasure to makes you moan louder. 

“That’s it. Fuck, you sound so hot. How wet are you for me? Put a finger in your cunt.” With a whine, you do as told. Running your fingers down your sodden lips before entering a finger into yourself. Grabbing your phone off the pillow beside you, you place the phone between your legs as you thrust your finger into yourself. 

The moan he gives is almost hedonistically evil, “Another.” 

Pushing the second finger in, the sounds of your soaked pussy emanate throughout the room and you moan his name loudly. “You’re so hot, Y/N. I swear to fucking God.” His voice sounds muffled as if he’s speaking through gritted teeth. 

“Yoongi. I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me.” He whimpers out before groaning. 

“You got me edging myself baby. You sound so fucking good.” Thrusting your fingers, you let out a yelp as you curl them to the spongy spot inside of you. 

“Take them out.” You whine in defiance as you continue to build your pleasure higher. Your eyes roll back as you squeeze at your breast, hips lifting off of the bed.

“Y/N. Take them out of your pussy. Now.” His voice demands respect and submission and with a frown you take your fingers out of yourself. 

“If you aren’t going to listen. We aren’t going to play. I’ll hang up and cum alone, is that what you want?”

“No.” You mumble to him. He hums in agreement as you pick your phone back up from between your legs.

“Put your filthy slut fingers in your mouth and suck your slick.” It’s almost mind boggling how quickly he changed roles. But, fuck, if it doesn’t get you on edge. 

Entering your fingers into your mouth, you whimper at the musky taste on your tongue. “You taste how needy you are for my large cock? Bet it tastes good, doesn’t it? Knowing that your dripping for a porn star you’re dying to fuck.” 

Whining against your fingers, your pussy clenches around nothing as he lets out a laugh. “Spank your cum slut pussy. I want to hear it.” 

Your hand shakes as you rear back before slapping your cunt. “You can do better than that, slut. Slap your filthy cunt.” 

Fuck, how is he so goddamn hot? You slap your pussy, the feeling ricocheting through you as your body jolts. Gasping loudly, you end with his name on your lips.

“That’s it. Good girl, little one. You’re so good at following directions. Play with your clit again, you must be aching.” He says and you can hear movement on the other end of the line. 

“Are you touching your cock?” You ask him.

“Fuck yes. You’re driving me insane, baby.” Your clit throbs, aching to be touched and you concede. Rubbing smooth circles, you whine his name out only to hear a string of curses from his end of the phone. 

"Tell me what you want to do to me." You beg as you continue your ministrations. 

He gives a growl and your eyes roll back at the thought of him stroking his cock to you. "I want to stretch you out on the bed, body flayed for me. Make you cum on my cock so many times you'd go stupid for me. I wanna spank your naughty little cunt for even teasing me this badly." He admits and your whimper earns another curse from him.

"I want to suck your big cock, let you use me like a cocksleeve." 

"Jesus fucking Christ." He says breathlessly. 

"Put your fingers in your pussy. Cum for me, I want to hear it." Your fingers jump at the chance, leaving your breast to play with your sodden hole. 

"I want to bend you over a fucking table and spank you so hard. Want you to drool for my cock and cum. Wanna make you cry for it." You hear faster movement on his end, his breath hitching before groaning loudly.

Entering two fingers into yourself, you keen loudly for him. Toes curling as you set an unrelenting pace. You haven't felt this sexy or turned on in so long. "Did you cum for me?" You ask sweetly before tucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Not yet, baby. I'm real good at keeping myself on edge. It's my job, remember. Curl your fingers to your g-spot." He tells you. 

Curling your fingers, your thighs become turse. "Yoongi! Fuck! I-I want to cum for you."

"That's it, little one. Keep going. You sound so gorgeous when you moan for me. Makes me want to please you so well."

"What else do you want to do?!" You ask quickly as the bubble inside of you begins to expand.

"What else? Baby, I want to do everything to you. Wanna suck on your sweet nipples until they're swollen and red for me. Fuck your cunt until your squirting all over me like a fucking slut. I especially want you to let me use your throat how I see fit and cut off your air with my cock. Watch you gasp for breath as you let me use you as a cocksleeve." You gasp for him, eyes screwing shut as your hips lift off the bed.

"Your pussy sounds so wet. You're making a fucking mess, I bet. I would love to lick it up. Taste your pretty litt-" You whine his name loudly, hips gyrating as you reach your precipice. "-Go ahead, little one. Cum for me."

Willing it to be so, you orgasm. Your head lolls back as your ears go deaf with white noise. You feel your cum leak out past your fingers as you fuck yourself through your orgasm. "Such a good girl." He praises as you whimper his name repeatedly. 

"Yoongi." You whine as you ride out your high.

"Still here, baby. I'm so close to cumming." He groans out.

Fisting his cock in hand, he can hear your exhausted pants on the other end of the line. His cock throbs wildly, having been edged to completion four times already.

"I want to suck your dick so badly. Let you cum in my mouth and swallow it. Show you I'm a good girl for you." Your voice is so gentle, so fucking sweet.

"Goddamn, Y/N. I'm- Baby, fuck!" He curses as he shoves his phone up to his shoulder off of his bare stomach.

"Want you to cum in my pussy and make me lick it off your cock." The beautiful thought of his cum glazing your lips and cheeks sends his fist stuttering.

"Y/N! Shit!" He yelps out as he orgasms. He gasps loudly, eyes screwing shut as he ruts his hips into the air. Warm ropes of cum land on his stomach as he moans for you.

"Jesus. Wow." He slurs out, feeling drunk off of the pleasure. 

There's silence for a bit as you both breath heavily. Yoongi's eyes slowly open before he chuckles to himself.

"Can I tell you a secret?" He asks as he uses his boxers to wipe his stomach. You hum in agreement and the sound tickles him pink as he turns his body on the couch.

"Until I read your stuff, I couldn't cum for a long time. I was really not excited about sex anymore until I read your works." He admits to you. 

"Really? But, you seem so into your work." He feels cozy now. This pillow talk going above and beyond anything he could have imagined. 

"I haven't been for a while. This was more erotic to me then most of the women I fuck." Your silence at his words makes him question if he's said something wrong. Picking skin off of his lip with his teeth, he waits for your reply.

"That makes me feel really warm to hear that." You finally say and he lets out a breath of relief before smiling. 

"Well it's true… Listen Y/N. I'd really like to continue talking to you. To get to know you more." 

"I'd like that, too."

"You fucking like it? Like trying to gasp for air around my cock? Hmm?" He seethes through his teeth as he thrusts his cock deeper into his co-stars throat. 

Yoongi has gotten amazing at shutting his eyes and picturing you behind his eyelids. He hasn't even seen you, yet. But, your conversations on the phone, the way you can giggle and talk for hours it was like a dream. A dream he would never want to wake up from. 

You were so real with him. Your personality is so magnetizing that it almost makes him feel like he's always known you. And in a way, he has known you. Your mind, your creativity and the way you write expressed something deep in your soul that he had always known.

The tap to his thigh makes him stop. Pulling his cock out of his co-stars mouth, he slaps it against her cheek. Smearing his precum and her spit over her face, he tugs her hair roughly before smiling. "Look at you, slut. Begging for daddy to stop when you practically got on your knees to grovel for my pleasure. What does that say about you? Hmm?" 

With a whimper she opens her mouth for him again, black mascara tinted tears streaming down her cheeks. "That's a good girl." He praises before entering his cock into her mouth. Your lips would be much better suited for the task he thinks. Remembering how you begged to let him cum in your mouth just to swallow his seed. 

"Jesus. That's it, little one." His cock throbs as her tongue swirls over the head. Pulling her closer with every thrust, his head lolls back. He wants to cum so badly. Wants to release and let the camera see his cum on his co-stars tongue knowing you'll watch it. 

"Fuck. Your slutty mouth feels so good around my cock, baby." He whispers through gritted teeth. He bets his life on it that you would whimper at the taste of his precum as your fingers dig into the skin of his thighs. That you would extend your tongue just to get every drop of his warm cum in your mouth. 

"Y/N! Fuck!" He yelps out as he orgasms. 

Disregarding the name he just said he taps her cheek roughly before pulling out. "Show me and then swallow for daddy, you slut." 

She does as told, the camera panning to her mouth before swallowing. "Good girl." He says before stepping away from the camera and her.

"Did you like it?" He asks as he cracks open his beer. 

With a laugh you hum unsurely, "I don't know. You seemed awfully pleased to cum in her mouth."

Rolling his eyes, he sips his beer before sitting down on his couch. "You know I was picturing your mouth around me, don't be silly." 

You giggle as a reply and he can hear clacking on your end of the phone call. "What're you up to? Writing?" He asks as he puts his feet up on the coffee table. 

"Yeah. Next weeks chapter of Take One." You tell him and he smiles at your words.

"Am I going to fuck you over a table again? That was hot." He mumbles over the lip of his beer bottle. 

"No. You're making love." You say seriously. Rapid tapping enters his ears and he sighs dejectedly. 

"You know I don't do that. I don't know how." He replies.

"I watched that video of you having sex with a woman on your wedding night." He gives a breathy snort before clearing his throat.

"Yeah but I didn't love her. I was acting. Your Yoongi in Take One is seriously in love with Y/N. He gets all emotional and shit." The sound pauses and silence invades his ears. He's gotten used to your long pauses, taking them as a sign of deep thought now rather than nerve wracking. 

"I'll teach you." You finally say to him. 

His eyebrows quirk up and he leans forward on the couch at your words. "You'll teach me?"

"Yeah. I'll teach you how to make love. Teach you how to feel emotion rather than just fucking someone till they can't remember their own name." 

"If you recall, last night you couldn't remember your own name after we had phone sex." He quips back, a smirk playing on his lips. 

"Yoongi."

"Y/N." 

"I'll teach you." You tell him sternly and who is he to say no.

"Yes ma'am." He replies quietly and he can practically feel your smile through the phone. 

"How about on Thursday? Your apartment or mine?" You ask.

He shivers at the thought before running his thumb over his bottom lip. Fuck, you were amazing. "Mine. Should I buy candles? Maybe rose petals? Decorate a heart on the bed with them?" He jokes to you.

"No. Just you and your pretty cock is fine." 

Fuck.

You stand in front of his front door, tilting your head at the brass numbers. You should feel more nervous that you are, you find yourself thinking. You were more excited than anything else. This is like finally seeing a lover after months of being away from one another. But, you’ve never seen each other. Only talked for long hours until the early hours of the morning. 

You feel comfortable talking with him though. Constantly finding yourself at odds with your gut as butterflies flutter endlessly within you. It just felt natural. You weren’t even that nervous for him to see you in your entirety after portraying Y/N in Take One exactly like yourself. 

Taking a deep breath you ring his doorbell. You can hear sound through the midnight blue door and your heart leaps with excitement. 

A minute feels like hours as you stand in the hallway. “Coming!” You hear faintly.

His voice is even rich and creamy through the door, sending your poor nerves on edge. You pull at the hem of your dress, teeth picking at the skin of your bottom lip.

 The door opens and you’re greeted with the handsome face you’ve only seen on screen. Breath catching in your throats, you both look each other over for a second. Taking in his black hair as it sweeps into his eyes and the black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Wow.” He’s the first to speak.

“Hi.” You whisper before clearing your throat. 

He looks like someone straight off the front page of a magazine. His obvious gawking makes you feel giddy, your stomach flipping and falling like you’re on a high rollercoaster descending to the ground. 

“Hey.” He says, a smile creeping onto his face.

You notice how his arm veins protrude as he pushes the door open wider. “Come in.” 

With the flurry of excitement, you don’t really take in much of his apartment. Besides the fact that it’s clean and neat. You mainly focus on him. On the way he swings the door shut and runs his hands over his face like he’s trying to ebb away a bout of nervousness. Min Yoongi getting nervous, why you’d never think that. 

He presses his back to the door and through his black jeans you can see his thigh muscles tensing. “Wou-Would you like a glass of wine?” He asks, before rubbing his hands together. 

“Sure. That’d be great.” You say.

He nods slightly, before rushing past you and you giggle quietly as you follow him. He’s so endearing. So absolutely handsome.

Rounding the corner, your eyes fall to his dining room table and you shake your head with a laugh at the many candles that are lit. “Very funny.” You say as he steps into the kitchen.

He chuckles to himself, not making eye contact with you as he pops the cork of the wine bottle. “They’re beeswax candles for wax play.” He mumbles and you let out a laugh before leaning down to the table. 

Elbows folding in on themselves, you look over the bright colors before tilting your head to him. Everything he’s doing, every movement and action is filled with tenseness and you feel sorry that he’s so nervous. 

“Yoongs?” You ask gently. 

His head whips to you as you call his name. His smile is gummy and gorgeous as he tilts his head. “You okay?” You question as he picks up the two glasses of red wine.

He hums in agreement before taking a deep breath and handing you the glass. He seems to have an inner struggle with himself as his hand reaches for yours. Probably wondering whether or not he should take it in his own hand. You let him work through it and you’re alright when he puts his hand back down to his side. 

His fingers flex and rub against the fabric of his pants as if he made the wrong call but you don’t say anything. It’s kind of nice to see his all power, sexy demeanor lost at the sight of you. It makes this real. Makes him real.

He shuffles over to the couch and you follow. Sitting down, he stares ahead at the art installation instead of where a television would be in normal living rooms. You can see him swallow multiple times, Adam’s apple constantly bobbing before shifting a glance over to look at you. 

“Nervous?” You ask him before sipping your wine. The flavor bursts in your mouth, undertones of stone fruits and Earth invading your senses. He takes a sip himself before leaning back into the couch and throwing his arm over the top.

“Honestly? A little. You’re exactly how I pictured you.” He says over the lip of the wine glass.

“And that’s a bad thing?” You ask playfully as you cross your legs.

“No! God! No, not at all! It’s kind of amazing. You’re really beautiful. I just don’t hang out with people much. I read your stories and just stay at home by myself.” He finally makes eye contact with you.

His onyx eyes focused solely on your face. They were holding emotions far more than you thought they would. It makes your heart clench, something deep inside of you falling into a cavern without anything holding you tethered. 

“Well, you’re exactly how I pictured you too.” You jeer and he chuckles in reply. 

He seems to relax after that, molding himself into the couch naturally. And you find it surprising how much you adore his not so cocky attitude like you see in his movies. “Your eyes are very pretty.” He announces before leaning over and putting down his wine glass on the coffee table. 

As he moves you can see his upper chest and you tilt your head at the sight. A god among men, perhaps. 

You cross your ankles, outstretching your legs and his eyes flit to your thighs. He licks his lips quickly before sitting back up. “Are you nervous?” He asks as he rests his back against the arm of the couch.

“Not really. I’m more excited to finally meet you, after talking for so long.” He smirks at this before folding his arms. 

“Who would have thought that you would be the one to put me on edge?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask with a laugh before taking another sip of wine. The alcohol burns nicely as it slides down your throat. Warming your stomach and your insides as he throws one leg up onto the couch bent at the knee. 

“You always seem so shy on the phone. I’m surprised it’s me that is feeling the effects so strongly of our meeting.” He says before holding up his hand as it shakes slightly. 

“I’m not shy on the phone. I’m submissive for you. That’s different.” You retort making him hum as you set down your glass of wine. 

Taking a deep breath, he looks you over once more. There’s something primal in his gaze, taking you in now like prey. He reaches forward, fingers sliding over your dress fabric. Your body turns towards him on instinct, ready for whatever he is going to offer. 

This is something you’ve come to terms with. You like him, kind of adore him actually. Talking with him on the phone, giggling and chatting for hours at a time made him seem so perfect. You were honest with one another, your connection very real.

"And are you going to be submissive for me today? If you choose to spend your time with me?" He asks quietly, the octave in his voice dropping so low you could practically feel the baritone shudder through you.

"No." You tell him confidently and he gives a short laugh before inching his way closer to you.

"And why not? You like it when I make you submit." He whispers. 

He was so close now, that his wine tainted breath fans over your face. 

With him being so close, you could see every emotion in his eyes. Every little thing calling out to you. His tongue slowly licks over his bottom lip and your groin twinges with satisfaction as he begins to smile lazily. 

"Because I came over here to teach you today." 

"Y/N." He whines. 

You watch the way his perfect lips part as he speaks your name. The way it rolls off his tongue like a plea and it makes your stomach coil. 

You press your hand against his clothed chest, feeling his pectoral muscles twitch and you feel power surge through you. He was yours to be with today, not anyone else. Not a co-star or any other person, just you. 

"Yoongi." You reply and you watch his breath catch in his throat. His eyes flutter shut and you smirk as he relaxes at your touch. 

"Say it again."

"Yoongi." He groans at the word and you sit up straighter at the effect you're having on him. It's with a simple giggle that you shove him backwards. He hits the arm of the couch with a grunt before opening his eyes.

Pupils blowing out with lust as his onyx irises gaze upon you. You crawl over his body, his hands finding their place on your thighs upon instinct. 

"I like hearing my name from you." He murmurs before showing you the column of his neck as your head bows down. 

You press your lips to his skin, the scent of fresh soap and linen breeching your nose as you give slow open mouthed kisses to his honey colored skin. His fingers dig harder into the flesh of your thighs and you could feel him trembling beneath you. 

"God, your lips. They feel so good." He whispers before swallowing thickly. 

Your hands roam over his shirt, as you suckle gently on his skin. He gasps gently, eyes fluttering shut as he holds you tightly. "I'm going to teach you." You whisper against his skin before nipping. 

His hips lift at the sting, eyebrows furrowing as he turns his head to give you more access. "Fuck." He seethes through gritted teeth. 

Your fingers begin to slowly unbutton his shirt, his hands snaking over your thighs to your hips before squeezing. "You're so fucking sexy. I knew you would look this good." He says as you lift up to unbutton properly.

"You're pretty hot yourself." You joke and he chuckles before looking back up at you. His thumb drifts over your bottom lip as he locks eyes with you. 

"You want me to feel emotion? You got it." 

Your chest puffs up at his words as you shove open his shirt. Revealing small abs and perfectly smooth skin, it's hard to find a place to focus as your eyes flit from here to there. His hands steady your hips before sitting up. 

He grabs you tightly before slinging you over his shoulder with a chuckle as he stands. "Yoongi!" You gasp out and he bends down just to pick up his wine glass. 

He chugs the contents before walking towards his bedroom. With this angle your eyes focus on his backside, every step contorting the muscles of his fit ass. Your hand reaches out for it and you feel a swat at your own backside. "Behave, little one." 

You whimper at his words, feeling arousal beginning to pool in your panties as he steps over the threshold of his room. You want to look around and take it all in but you're met with his bed first and foremost. 

Throwing you down, he runs his fingers through his hair before crawling over your body. The sheets are silk beneath you and you make out a painting on the wall before his face is in your sights. 

"What the fuck are you doing to me? Hmm? Getting me all nervous around you. Making me want to please you so well just to hear my name fall from your pretty lips." He asks as he runs his hands over your dress.

He discards his shirt and you watch his small abs flex under his taut skin with every breath. "Can I take this off?" He asks sweetly as his fingers find the zipper at the side of you.

You lift your body for him as he unzips. He groans at the sound before pressing his lips to your jaw. Sweet kisses glide over your skin and you gasp at the feeling. "I-I'm sup-supposed to be teaching you." You find the words to say as his lips trail down to your neck. 

He suckles gently at the skin, leaving pink and red rose petals in his wake. "I think I got the gist, little one." He whispers against you before nipping at your collarbone. 

Shoving your dress off of your body, he groans at the sight of you. "This is the bra you wore in that selfie, isn't it?" He asks, running his fingers over the black lace hem of the cups. 

You find it in yourself to hum in agreement as he throws your dress to the floor. You don't care how wrinkled it'll get, you can only focus on him as his hands reach for your almost bare body. 

You were making him feel something. Something he certainly isn't fucking used to. 

Knocking your legs open, he situates himself inside them. "Are you okay? Do you want to continue?" He asks for your confirmation as his hands run over your sides. 

"Yes. Fuck, yes." You whine. He chuckles before bending back down. His hands grab at your breasts, squeezing them rough enough to elicit a loud gasp from you. 

"Your skin is so soft, little one." His tongue laps over the skin atop your bra before tugging down the cups. Your breasts heave up at the action and he groans at the sight. 

"Look at your pretty nipples. Fuck." He curses before encircling your areola with his lips.

You were everything he had hoped to see. Everything he could possibly want and here, underneath him like this was sending him into overdrive. 

His hips rut in the air as he flicks at your nipple with the tip of his tongue. Rolling and squeezing your other breast in hand. Your back bows for him, gentle moans escaping your throat as your legs spread wider.

Your hands grasp at his strong shoulders. As he forsakes your nipple to leave his marks around the skin of your breast. "God, you're fucking amazing." He mumbles before moving to your other breast.

Whining his name, your hips lift up begging for more. Hooking his fingers into the sides of your panties, he slowly pulls them down. Tugging on your nipple with his lips as he leaves your core bare for him. "Spread." He instructs.

You find it arousing how he hasn't even looked down below yet. As if he's waiting to reveal it to himself like the greatest gift. Spreading your legs for him, you can feel strings of arousal breaking and snapping to your inner thighs. 

His lips trail down the valley of your breasts and your breath becomes caught in your chest. His thumbs flick at your nipples as he takes his time, kissing and suckling every inch of you. "What the fuck? Were you made for me? You're so perfect." He says before dipping his tongue into your belly button.

"Yoongi." You whimper out as your fingers find his soft locks. Tugging on it, he growls against your skin before looking up at you. 

"Keep doing that and I'm going to forget this whole love making thing and fuck you till your bow legged." He promises and you tug gently at his hair with a giggle. 

He rolls his eyes in response but you don't miss the smirk he gives. He shoves your legs open roughly and your jaw drops in excitement. He kisses at the bare mound of flesh of your pubic bone before picking his head up. His hums to himself, tongue licking over his lips. 

His bottom lip purchases between his teeth as he makes a V motion with his fingers opening your pussy lips for him. He stares lewdly at your cunt and you could see his hard cock throb through the leg of his jeans. "Look at your pretty little cunt. You're fucking dripping." He mumbles before rearing down and spitting. 

You moan at the feeling, hips thrusting into the air. 

His fingers glide over your soaked cunt. Your eyes screwing shut as he prods at your entrance with a finger. "Eyes open. Watch me." He instructs. 

Your eyes snap open as he nestles his face between your thighs. He breathes in deeply before latching his lips to your now swollen clit. 

"Oh fuck!" You whine loudly as your back bows off the bed.

His mouth was so incredibly skilled, lapping at your clit with such expertise. 

His eyes were on yours as he devours your needy pussy. 

He gives a flat stripe to your sex, before showing you the amount of arousal on his tongue and swallowing greedily. "You taste so fucking good." He mumbles before suckling at your clit again. 

You keen loudly, hands fisting tightly at his hair as he flicks the tip of his tongue to you. Your body jolts with pleasure as you mumble his name. 

Without warning he enters a finger into you. He himself moaning against your sex at the tightness of your dripping pussy. "God! Yoongi!" 

He hums in agreement before lifting up, slowly he drips his spittle from his mouth. You watch with keen eyes as it meets your cunt before he's ravaging you once more. Grinding your clit to the flat of his tongue, you feel white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins. Your skin feels aflame, your stomach tightens as you course towards the precipice. 

He curls his finger inside of you before slipping in another easily. "God look at you, so eager to cum for me, little one. So gorgeous." He praises and you whine as he lets you ride his tongue again.

He could feel his cock begging to be released from the confines of his jeans. Straining so tightly to the fabric as he precums at the sight of you losing all semblance of reality. You were gorgeously fucked out beneath him, cheeks tinged pink with arousal. He feels something stirring in his gut, something completely different than arousal. An emotion that sends him aflutter and he wonders if he's catching real, true feelings for you.

"Cum for me, baby. Cum on my tongue." 

Tugging on his hair harder, he groans against you. The vibration shoots through you as your eyes become spotty. Gasping for air, you babble his name as the tightness within you is almost too much to take. It's the image of him as he picks up his head that makes you lose it. Lips, cheeks and chin coated thickly in your arousal and you careen over the precipice as his fingers lovingly strike the soft bunch of nerves inside of you. 

You see stars as you orgasm. Hips undulating violently as your ears ring with white noise. "Goddamn." You hear from him faintly as your thighs shake.

He watches you lay so fucked out beneath him and he smiles. Yeah. He's caught fucking feelings. Moving up your body, he presses gentle kisses to your nipples before kissing you. 

Your first kiss together is wildly heated. Tongues lashing over one anothers as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. You can taste your arousal on his tongue and you whimper against him as he flips you over easily. "You're so fucking pretty." He murmurs with wonder.

Your legs straddle over him and you barely notice his hand creeping down your stomach. He rears back before slapping your pussy hard. You writhe with overstimulation, gasping loudly as your thighs lock. "Had to." He jokes before hooking his hand around your neck and pulling you down for a kiss. 

The kiss is languid now, tongues exploring each other's mouths as you unbutton his jeans. The sound of the zipper sounds so loud in the silent room and it fills you with gusto for what's to come next. 

He doesn't break the kiss as he shoves his pants down roughly. He sighs loudly into your mouth as his cock springs free from the confines of his jeans and briefs. 

You've been dying to see his cock in person. And boy, does it not disappoint. You practically gape at the size and thickness. Rose colored veins meet your gaze on his length and you find yourself practically drooling at the sight. His bulbous head is a mean shade of red as it weeps precum begging to be touched. "All for you." He says as he runs his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Me and every other porn star." You joke and he clicks his teeth at your words.

"I don't want them like I want you. I've never wanted to feel a body like yours in years. You're special to me, don't you get that? You make me feel shit. You make me cum. Nobody does that anymore, baby." Your eyes greet his as he speaks. And, you watch him earnestly pour out his emotions. You give him a sweet smile before running your hands over his chest.

He sighs at the contact before combing his hands through your hair. "I'm serious. You want me to make love to you? You got it. You want me to fuck you so hard you'll beg me to stop? You got it. Anything. Anything you want, I'm here to please you." 

Your heart swells at his words and you smile wider before grasping his cock. He gasps at your touch, hips rutting into the air before gritting his teeth. "I want to please you." You tell him.

"By all means." He mumbles as his jaw muscles flex. 

Bending down, you pepper kisses over his long length. Earning gentle groans from him as his hands make a ponytail with your hair. Your tongue laps at a trail of precum as it lazily runs down his length and he shivers in response. "Fuck." He curse before gripping tighter at your hair.

Swirling your tongue around the tip, he lets out a hiss of pleasure. The sound makes your pussy clench around nothing. "Goddamn." 

Spreading your legs wider with his hands, he rubs gentle circles onto your clit and you moan loudly as you take his length into your mouth. "Agh, Christ. Your mouth is amazing." He hisses out as you assiduously work your mouth on his cock.

Hollowing your cheeks with every suck, you feel brazen as he moans your name. "Not even some porn stars can suck cock like this. Jesus Christ!" He yelps out as he shoves your head down on his cock. Gagging around his length, he moans louder at the sound. 

Tears spring forth from your eyes as you look up at him. His bottom lip is trembling between his teeth as you run your tongue flat over the base. "That's it, baby. Just like that. Your mouth is amazing, baby girl." He praises you and you keen as he pinches your nipple. 

You whimper against his large cock, your hands gripping at his terse thighs as he lifts his hips with every head bob. He makes it a point to praise you every time you gag. Show love to your body as you cry on his cock. 

Spittle and precum stream over your chin as he begins to lose himself in the pleasure. "God, I've wanted to fuck your mouth for so long. Since you put that selfie up for me. I knew you would feel so fucking good around my cock, baby. So fucking eager to please me." His cock begins to throb as you swallow around him. Trying to get him as deep in your throat as possible. 

"Fuck yeah. Let me use you like a fucking cocksleeve." He murmurs out as your nose nestles to his bare pubic bone. He rears back before spanking your cunt again. Your body undulating at his ministrations and he holds up his hand showing you your fresh wave of arousal on his fingers. 

"Look at how horny you are for me. Fuck you're incredible." He enters his fingers into his mouth, moaning both at your taste and as he fucks his cock deeper into your throat. 

This wasn't particularly love making in a normal sense, but who gives a fuck. Right now, as he fucks your throat you can only whimper and want more. Getting so caught up in being with him that there really wasn't anything but perfection in this very moment. "Y/N. You're going to make me cum, baby. You're- Fuck." He curses before pressing his lips into a straight line. 

He tugs on your hair roughly, his eyes still on you and surprisingly not on his cock as it disappears into your mouth. His heart swells with admiration, wiping your cheeks of your tears as his jaw tightens. Licking over his base you watch him gasp loudly and your thighs tighten around his.

"Oh baby. Fuck. I'm cumming! Shit!" He whines out and his cock gets thicker inside your throat before orgasming. His eyes roll back as ropes of cum slide down your throat. He whispers your name ardently as you swallow diligently.

"Show me." He gasps out and you pull off of his cock before opening your mouth. 

"Such a good girl." He praises.

He takes a second, blinking the lusty haze from his eyes before flipping you onto your back. You giggle at the sudden movement, a smile painted on his face as he leans down to kiss you. Discarding your bra to the floor, he pecks at your lips.

"First woman in my bedroom. First woman to get me to cum that hard in so long. I got a lot of firsts going on today." He whispers against your lips before nipping your bottom lip. 

"Really? I'm the first girl in your bed?" You ask, surprised.

"Oh yeah. No ones ever been this special for me to invite them over. Keep playing your cards right and I'll make you dinner." He jokes as he spreads your legs.

Your giggle is cut off as he enters two fingers inside of you before stretching. With a whimper, you whine his name. "Cum for me one more time. I gotta stretch you to fit my cock in." He expertly curls his fingers inside you and your chest heaves upwards at the feeling.

"You-You never stretch any of the other girls on camera." You say as he scissors you open.

"They don't need to be stretched, they're constantly loose or have already been prepped. Also, stop talking about them and my job. This is about us right now." He says before silencing you with a kiss. 

The pad of his thumb rubs over your bundle of nerves and you gasp into his mouth. His fingers begin to fuck you faster as his tongue glides over yours. His taste, the subtle hints of wine and your arousal have your mind becoming fuzzy for the second time. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, arms hooking over the back of his neck as he nips at your tongue.

"You're such a good girl cumming again for me." He whispers before curling his fingers so fast inside of you that you feel all the air in your lungs disappear. 

"Y-Yoongi! Fuck! I'm-"

"Go ahead, baby girl." With a loud moan you orgasm for the second time and he scissors your pliant channel open as he whispers words of praise in your ear. Your vision goes white behind your eyelids and you barely feel his fingers leave you. 

He waits for you to come down from your high. Caressing your cheek with loving strokes as he aligns himself to your entrance. You whimper as he prods at you before looking up for confirmation.

"Just say the word and we can stop. I don't want to push you too much on the first round." So he wants more with you? 

You pull him closer and he pushes his bulbous head past your entrance. Both of your mouths falling open in tandem as he slowly thrusts inside. He was stretching you so open, the feeling almost mind boggling. 

"Oh God." You whine as he buries his face into your neck. Kissing over your heated skin, he pushes himself to the hilt inside of you. He allows you to adjust around his considerable length as he plays with your nipples. Pinching and rolling them between his fingertips. 

"I'll make love to you for however long you let me." He announces into the crook of your neck. 

He suckles more vivid colors to the surface of your skin as your legs wrap around his waist. He pulls out slowly, letting the head of his cock drag against your soft walls before thrusting harshly back inside.

The both of you moan loudly, your hands scrambling to grab onto his arms as he begins a diligent pace. He pulls your face with his hand to look at him as he fucks you lovingly. "You drive me so crazy. So fucking nuts. I can't believe I get to do this with you. You're like a dream." He whispers before kissing you softly. 

The balls of your feet dig into his backside as he continues his pace. You can tell he's dying to go faster but he makes it a point to give you what you want. He was truly making love to you, every thrust having purpose and meaning as he sheathes himself inside of your heat. 

"So nice and wet for me. So fucking tight." He seethes out through clenched teeth and you rock your hips with every thrust to meet him. He grabs your hands before intertwining your fingers together. 

His lips suckle at your skin as he begins to fuck you faster. Sweat beginning to produce on his sideburns. Your hands tighten your grip on his as you lift your hips for more. "I really like you." He tells you as you moan.

"I like you, too. A lot." He smiles before thrusting harder inside of you. Your head lolls back as he begins to fuck you with everything he has. 

"Oh fuck! Y/N!" He cries out into the valley of your breasts. You're a blubbering mess beneath him now, the tightening in your stomach coming back in full force as each thrust meets your cervix folds. 

Lifting himself up, he watches how your breasts jiggle with every thrust. How gloriously in pleasure you are beneath him and he can't deny the feeling of ardent emotion as his heart strings tug at the sight. "Shit!" He curses loudly before letting go of your hands to grip your hips.

Pulling you down onto his cock with fluid motions, you feel his cock begin to throb within you and your pussy clenches around him.

His hand reaches for the apex of your thighs, pinching your clit skillfully. Your eyes roll back, mouth drooling for his cock as he splits you open.

"You're so fucking tight for me. So fucking made me for me. Who does this pussy belong to?" He asks before pinching your bundle of nerves again.

"You! Yoongi!" You gasp out as your veins pump with pleasure. 

"Cum for me again." He mumbles.

He hooks your ankle over his shoulder before drilling into you at a speed that shouldn't be humanly possible. Mumbling his name incessantly you cum for him a third time. Eyes screwing shut as your cunt milks his cock for his cum. "Fuck yeah. So fucking tight." He mutters out as he watches you bask in deep seeded pleasure.

Your cum squirts out of you, landing on his thighs and he growls animalistically before pulling out of you. Flipping you over, he lifts your hips in the air and you can barely understand what's happening as you moan loudly. He enters you in one fluid motion, simultaneously spanking your ass hard. 

Lurching forward you moan his name as you grip at his bedsheets. Fisting them until your knuckles become white. "Fuck. You're so amazing. So fucking willing to keep creaming on my cock." He growls out as his hand grabs at the back of your neck.

He pulls you back onto his cock with fervent need, his eyes on your smarting globes and the way your pussy sheathes him so tightly. "So beautiful." He says before smacking your ass again.

You appreciate the sting, letting it bring you back to reality. His hand finds the junction of your thighs once more and he rubs furious circles to your clit. You yelp out at the over stimulation, eyes watering with tears. 

"Yoongi! Can't!" You whimper. 

"Yes you can. My woman can do anything." He's claimed you right then and there. You allow yourself to be pushed through the over stimulation, crying and whimpering before your simpering turns to loud moans.

"That's it, baby. Good fucking girl." He seethes out before spanking you again. "Let's go for four." He pulls out of you almost fully before spitting on your battered cunt. Pulling you harshly back onto his cock, your cunt continues to convulse around him as he begins to throb harshly.

"Oh fuck. You're going to make me cum." He alerts you. Thighs shaking, you rock your hips back to him with every thrust. Your hands grip the sheets tighter as you cum for a fourth time without warning. 

You bury your face into the mattress crying out loudly as he groans. "Oh fuck! Baby!" He yells out before stilling inside of you.

Ropes of cum smatter the walls of your cunt and you whimper feebly as the warmth fills you. He lays his chest to your back before kissing your cheek. You can feel his chest heave for air behind you and he pulls out gently. Pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek, he chuckles as you cream with his cum. 

You flip onto your back with a tired whine and he laughs quietly. Bending down, he kisses you gently before standing. "Let me clean you up, okay?" 

You hum as you close your eyes. God, hes fucking incredible. 

Cleaning you up, he watches as your head lazily tilts towards him. "You okay?" He asks with a laugh. 

Snorting gently you nod before looking over his naked body. "Did you mean what you said? Do you like me?" You ask him and he stops his ministrations.

Bending down he kisses you. The kiss filled with passion and reverence. "Yes. I like you. Very much." He replies.

"So...what are we?" You ask quietly as he lays down beside you.

His arms pull you into his chest as he rests against the headboard of his bed. Pushing some stray hairs behind your ear, his lips meet your hairline. Brushing against it gently, he closes his eyes. 

"I claimed you while we were having sex and that still stands. I'd like to see where this goes between us. Your soul is so pure, so honest and I'd like to know you on every level I possibly can." Your eyes flutter shut and you smile into his chest as he holds you tighter. 

"I'd really like that Yoongi."

"Me too, little one."

"Baby." His voice is loud as he steps over the threshold of your shared apartment. 

You jump at the noise, sending your fingers flying over the keyboard of your laptop before looking up. You smile at his figure, his bleach blonde hair falls into his eyes as he smiles back. You erase the keyboard smash before closing your laptop.

"Don't stop on my account." He tells you as he sets his keys down on the kitchen table.

"I'm almost done anyway, I was just editing the next chapter." He raises an eyebrow at you before padding over and kissing the top of your head. You purse your lips for a kiss but he hums awkwardly.

"Might not wanna kiss me. I gotta go take a shower too." He says before taking off his shirt and showing you the wax candle burn marks on his chest. You laugh, rolling your eyes as he winks at you.

He notices how your eyes shift to your laptop as he continues to stare. What are you hiding? "Wanna come take a shower with me?" He asks as he discards his pants.

"Sure." 

"Who'd you film with today?" You ask as Yoongi runs the bar of soap over your back, pressing sweet kisses over your bare shoulder.

"Candy. She says hi." He whispers as he pulls you closer to his naked body.

"While she was gagging on your cock?" He snorts into the nape of your neck before swatting at your backside. Whining at the sting, you turn your head and pout to him. He nips at your protruding bottom lip before nuzzling his nose into your wet hair.

"What were you writing before? Take One?" You hum in agreement as he runs the bar of soap over your breasts.

"What are we doing this time? Fucking in a car on our way to the Porn Awards? Or, maybe going on that vacation we won at the charity ball?" He quips and your body goes rigid as he questions you. Fuck, you're acting odd. 

"Just fucking." You say, your voice sounding small under the sounds of running water as it slaps the floor. 

He pulls away from you before rinsing his body off. "I'm done with the shower, are you?" He asks, finding himself sounding distant. 

You shut the water off and grab the towel from him watching him walk away and out of the bathroom.

Yoongi lays in bed, watching you comb through your hair with your fingers and he folds his arms. Your back muscles were terse and he raises an eyebrow as you throw your body down onto the bed as if you're frustrated. 

He can't seem to understand where this was coming from. You've been together for years now and every time you've shown this sort of tantrum or distance from him, he's always just fucked it right out of you till you couldn't remember why you were upset in the first place.

You were usually very vocal. He remembers the first fight you had gotten into, something that he still agrees is his fault. He was careless at first, when you began dating. Not really telling you the subject of the porns he was filming.

He would come home with hickies and scratch marks, without thinking of how you would take it. But, he hadn't had to explain himself to anyone ever. So he understood when you finally snapped and cursed him out. You put him on a sex ban for almost a month and he felt like a hollow shell, reverting back to not being able to cum inside of his co-stars for that little while. 

Just thinking about it gives him shivers and he pulls the covers over his chest higher. Getting comfortable in bed, your back is turned towards him. "Baby, come lay on me." He insists as he runs his hand over your bare thigh.

You stay silent before huffing out and flipping over. Wrapping his hand around your body, his thumb presses into the muscles around your spine. Kneading them gently as his lips drift over your temple. "What's wrong, baby girl?" He asks quietly.

"Nothing. I'm fine." You reply as you lay your cheek on his chest. He rolls his eyes at your hollow words before tipping your chin up with his index finger.

"I'm your fiance, you're supposed to talk to me. We're in this for life, remember?" His eyebrows raise with his words as your fingers run over the wax burns on his body.

"I'm fine. Seriously." You give him the fakest smile he's ever seen in his life before closing your eyes and he sighs a little too loudly.

What the fuck did you write that's got you so upset?

Yoongi picks at the skin on his lip as he watches you sleep. You've been distant for over a week now and he's starting to think he's done something frighteningly wrong. 

He made it a point to tell you that he didn't need to read Take One anymore. That you could pour your emotions and feelings into the story almost like a diary. He wanted you to have that creative outlet that brought you so much freedom.

He loves that about you. Anything and everything you write has meaning, you make it count. And, if you needed to write about how annoyed you were with him in your books then so be it. Vent to your heart's content as long as any real major problems were discussed with him first. 

But, God there was something wrong and he knows he would find the answer if he opens up Take One. Grabbing his phone off the bedside table, he lays you down gently before standing up. He stares at you for a second in your moonlit bedroom, watching you wriggle from the movement before becoming dead to the world once more. 

He sighs as he walks to the bathroom. His feet pad against the heated floor before locking himself in. Sitting down on the toilet, he unlocks his phone. Blinking rapidly at the bright light before scrolling through your blog. 

Chapter 99: To New Beginnings

"Oh Jesus." He mumbles nervously before putting his cheek on his hand as he begins to read.

It's early morning when your husband wakes you up. Breakfast in bed was never his thing, burning eggs so easily as if they were going out of style. 

But it was a welcome sight as your stomach grumbles with hunger. His smile stutters your heart as he sets the plate of food down before you. 

His touch is warm as he caresses your cheek. The feeling waking you up faster than the strongest coffee ever could. 

After last night's ball, how you danced among countless bodies with no faces, he seemed to become reinvigorated. Wholly invested in love for one another. 

He watched children in small dresses and suits play beneath glittering chandeliers. Watched their small bodies dance effortlessly to the cords of classical music and it struck something inside of him. 

"Little one." He whispers to you.

Looking up from your plate, your eyes greet his. His irises show you nothing but ardor as he grabs for your hand. 

Running his thumb over your wedding band, he swallows thickly. Nervousness sweeps through you as his eyes flutter closed. 

"What's wrong?" You whisper, setting down your plate.

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I just want to talk to you." You nod to him, sitting up straighter as you give him your undivided attention. 

His hand is atop yours, running smooth circles over your skin. In the morning sunlit room, you can see his forehead crease with tension. It seems like he has something to say and it just won't come out. Like he could shout underwater without any outcome. 

He takes a deep breath before looking up at you again. 

"I want to try for a baby." He tells you. 

Your heart lurches deep in the recesses of your chest. Eyes wideni-

"Oh, baby girl." Yoongi whispers before running his hand over his exhausted face. He has thought about it, surely. But, he never put much stake into it with the job he has. 

This is why you've been so distant? You want a baby? Why weren't you comfortable enough to tell him? You could talk to him about anything and everything.

It doesn't seem far fetched to think about having children with you. You were the greatest love of his life, the only love of his life. If it's what you want, then he wants that too. 

The thought sends his mind alive, waking from his exhaustion as he continues to read.

Sliding his hands over your bare body, his lips caress your breasts. Suckling at your nipples with the new intention of having them swell for his child. 

"God, how amazing you're going to look with my child inside you. So pretty and swollen for me." He whispers above your nipple, his breath hardening the bud to stiff peaks.

With a gentle mewl, he spreads your legs. Eyes on yours as his irises begin to swell with lust. 

"Wouldn't you love that, baby? Letting me cum deep inside your fertile womb and give you my son or daughter?" He asks as his fingers knead at the flesh of your thighs.

"Yes! Fuck! I want you to put a baby in me!" You cry out as he begins to smirk deviously.

Yoongi shifts in his seat, hand reaching down for his cock before stopping. God, this was fucking hot. 

Then he imagines you, swollen with his child as he lavishes upon your body. You walking down the street hand in hand as your rub circles onto your stomach. 

"Oh fuck." He mumbles before rubbing at his cock through his briefs. 

Reading through the sheer eroticism you have written, he finds the thought of you becoming pregnant weighing heavily on the front of his mind. Knowing him, he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it until he makes it a reality.

Standing up from the toilet, he opens up the medicine cabinet doors. Rifling through the small objects and toiletries he finds your birth control container. Without a second thought he clutches it tightly in his hand. "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you."

Unlocking the bathroom door, he leans against the door jamb as you lay fast asleep. “Fuck, I love you.” He whispers, before walking back over to his side of the bed.

You can see him staring at you through the big mirror in your bedroom out of the corner of your eye. Shutting your laptop, you meet eyes with him and you both tilt your heads at the same time to each other.

You giggle gently before looking down at the comforter beneath you. You really shouldn’t have been so pissy with him over the last few days, especially when you haven’t even talked to him about why you were so short and rude. 

He knows you too well by now, he probably knows something must be going on with you. It’s just all been coming to a head lately, you could say. Seeing Viola and Taehyung’s baby, seeing pregnant women in the street glowing and looking happy. It makes you feel like something is missing in your life. 

And, you want these things with him. You love him with every ounce of your being. You should just talk to him, just tell him. It scares you, what if you tell him and he says that because of his career it’s not really too hopeful to have a child. It’s nerve wracking.

“What’s up, baby girl?” Your fiance asks as he sits up straighter. His onyx irises feel like daggers through the mirror and you stand up before giving him a sweet smile. 

“Nothing, going to get ready for bed.” He hums to you before throwing his phone on the bedside table. 

Rifling through the medicine cabinet, you raise an eyebrow at where your birth control should be. You move things around before furrowing your eyebrows. 

“Yoongs?” You call to him as you shove his razors and shaving creams out of the way.

“Yeees?” He asks before stepping into the bathroom behind you.

“Have you seen my birth control?” You ask quietly.

You feel his lips press against the back of your neck. Giving soft kisses to your skin, he ignores your question as his hand runs over the hem of your tank top.

“Babe?” You ask gently.

Shoving your tank top up, your breasts bounce freely before being shielded by his hands. He groans as he cups them, squeezing gently. Your body shudders at his touch, pressing back into him as you steady yourself on the granite countertop. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I love you so much.” He murmurs against your skin.

Tilting your head to give him more access, you raise your arm to rifle through more of the medicine cabinet. He’s quick to push your arm back down, grinding his hardening cock against the globes of your ass. 

“You aren’t going to find them, they’re gone.” He tells you as he rolls your stiff peaked nipples with his fingers.

With a whimper, your eyes flutter shut adoring the attention. Especially, when you think you don’t deserve it with how nasty you’ve been with him lately. 

Kissing over the shell of your ear, he holds you closer before thrusting his hand down the front of your sleep shorts. Gasping gently, your hand hooks around the back of his neck. 

“Wh-Why won’t I find them?” You lick your lips as his fingers part the folds of your pussy. 

Suckling small marks of reds and pinks, you can hear his hum. Feel it vibrating through his chest as he holds you so close. 

“Because I have them." He whispers before spreading your feet wider apart with his own. Running his fingers over your cunt, he moans as your slick begins to coat his fingers. Digging into his sweatpants pocket he produces the aluminum packet, holding it between his two fingers.

“Why?” You question him, before biting your lip as he rubs circles onto your clit with his middle and index fingers. 

“Because I’m going to stuff you full of my cum and make you carry my child.” He says nonchalantly.

You gasp loudly as he slaps your pussy gently. How could he know what you wanted? Was he that in tune with you? 

"Can I throw them away baby?" He asks, his breath fans over your ear before nibbling your earlobe.

"Yes." Your voice is breathless. 

Groaning at your response he chucks the packet into the garbage before picking you up with his strong arms. Taking off to the bedroom, he kisses over your neck.

“I’ve been thinking about getting you knocked up for the past few days. It makes my cock so hard to think of you swollen with my child, baby girl.” He says as he throws you unceremoniously down onto the mattress. 

Rubbing your thighs together, you watch him crawl up the bed. His tongue laps slowly over his lower lip as his eyes devour you. 

It sends your heart racing. Knowing that he’s going to fuck you with such intent. Knowing that he’s fucking you with purpose and not just for both of your pleasure. 

“Why do you think I haven’t been shooting all week? I want my cum to be potent for your fertile cunt.” He announces as he climbs over you. 

His hands grip at the sides of your shorts before tugging down roughly. Leaving you bare and open to him as he spreads your legs wide. He eyes your soaked cunt before giving you a lazy smirk. Running his fingers through his blonde hair, you can feel your gut explode with wanting. 

“You’re going to let me fill your sweet pussy up, aren’t you baby? Let me fill you to the brim till your tight little cunt is dripping with it.” You let out a sob of pleasure as he plucks at your nipple with his lips. 

“Yes! I want you to give me a baby so badly!” You whine out as he nestles between your legs.

He lavishes on your breasts, groaning gently as your hips thrust upward. Your pussy clenches around nothing, your clit starting to swell with need. His hands press your hips down firmly to the bed as you writhe beneath his ministrations. He looks up at you, his eyes give a stern warning and you know not to move again without being told. You whimper his name gently as he kisses down your stomach, mouth leaving hot, wet kisses before hovering over your womb.

“Look at you. You beautiful minx, I can’t wait to see you swell with what’s mine.” He whispers before licking from your lower stomach to your sex. His tongue is achingly slow, sending your toes curling as you do your best to keep your ass planted on the bed. 

Kissing and suckling at your slick folds, he moans at the taste of you. Lapping up your arousal on his tongue like it’s his favorite meal. Frankly, it fucking is.

"Oh Yoongs! Fuck!" You whine as his arms hook around your thighs. 

Prodding at your entrance, the amount of arousal that leaks from you has his lower half already rutting into the mattress. When it comes to his job he can stave off any sort of pleasure but with you, he just can't help losing himself. 

He enters his finger into you slowly, enjoying how your thighs twitch and lock as he suckles on your swollen nub. 

"Fuck. You're soaked." He groans loudly against you. 

Adding a second finger, he could already feel you beginning to pulsate around him. Trying your hardest to not move at his request. "Grind on my tongue baby, you deserve it." He murmurs before letting his tongue hang out.

With a mewl, your hands fist at his blonde hair before gyrating your hips. Your eyes meet and the whimper you give has his cock twitching into the mattress. 

"I want it so badly. Want you to get me pregnant with your baby. Fuck me so full of cock and cum." You whine loudly.

His eyes roll back at your words as your breath quickens. His fingers curling so fast inside of you, it must be the work of the devil. 

"I'm gonna cum! Fuck!" White hot pleasure courses through you, cutting your nerves to the quick. 

Your fiance grips hard at your thigh, his fingers pumping into so fast you might have just seen Jesus as you rush towards your precipice of pleasure. 

His tongue flicks your clit at a dangerous speed sending you over the edge moaning his name loudly. Back bowing off of the bed, you cover your mouth with a shaking hand as you let out a sob of pleasure.

He kisses over the inner skin of your thighs waiting patiently for you to come down from your high. Running your fingers through his hair, you wince as he scissors you open.

"I know baby, but I gotta prep you. Your pretty pussy is too tight for my cock." He tells you as his lips drift over your skin. 

Stretching you open, he tugs down his sweatpants before sighing at the freeing feeling. Watching his cock spring out, you let out an involuntary moan at the sight. Precum weeps mercilessly from the head as his tip turns an angry shade of red. 

Spreading your legs wider with his own, he pulls his fingers from you gently. The loss of being full makes you focus more on his cock. As his eyes run over your figure, you can see it pulse and twitch with need. Your mouth goes dry at the sight, hips lifting off the bed at the sheer excitement of being filled with him. 

“I know baby. I’m coming.” Yoongi whispers before running his cock through your slick folds. The stimulation to your clit has your jaw tightening as your teeth grit together. It’s a sexy concoction of overstimulation and need as your body jolts with each rut against you. 

Pressing his lips needily to yours, your tongues collide in heated passion. Gripping the base of his cock, he enters you slowly. Moaning in tandem into each other's mouths. 

“Christ, your cunt is so tight.” He groans out against your lips as he thrusts himself to the hilt. 

Letting you adjust around him, his lips pluck at the column of your neck. “Gonna look so pretty for me, little one. So beautiful with my child inside of you. I can’t wait to eat your needy cunt while rubbing your big belly.” He whispers against your neck, groaning loudly as your pussy clenches around him at his words. 

“Oh, you like that so much don’t you? Picturing my baby inside you as I fuck you every way I can.” He jeers as his fingers roll your nipples almost painfully slow. 

“Yes! I can’t wait to be big for you. Sucking your cock as you play with my milky tits.” You whisper as you card your fingers through his hair. 

“Oh, fuck yeah.” He curses.

Pulling out of you, he steadies himself on his elbows above you before thrusting hard into you. Your hands grip at the sheets beside you, knuckles going white as your head lolls back.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby. Soaking my cock so nicely. Shit.” He whispers in your ear. 

The feeling of his breath producing goosebumps on your skin as he begins to bulldoze himself inside of you. Hooking your legs around his waist, you begin to meet each thrust with your hips. 

“Your cock feels so good inside me! I love when you fuck me!” You moan for him as he sits up on his knees.

Shifting your leg over his body, he presses your legs flat against one another. Your pussy becomes tighter around him at the new angle as he practically turns you on your side. Spanking the globe of your ass, you moan as your skin smarts with the sting of his slap. 

“Gonna take my cum deep in your aching little cunt, aren’t you little one? Let everyone in the street know how well I fuck you to get you so nice and big for me.” His head lolls back, licking at his lips as he grips at your hip. 

Plowing into you, your mind becomes muddled. Babbling and whining as he fucks you with every ounce of passion he has. “Rub your clit for me baby, I’m so close to blowing a load in your sweet pussy.” 

Lifting your leg, he grips your knee as you press it against his stomach. Your fingers rub your clit with furious circles, aided by how much of your slick weeps out of you. "Oh fuck, you feel so good, baby. I'm so close." He whispers as his eyes flutter shut.

His bottom lip purchases between his teeth as he holds your leg tighter to his body. Snapping his hips faster your stomach churns with delight. Your eyes flutter shut as you lift your hips higher, letting the head of his cock brush against the soft patch of nerves inside you.

He could feel your cunt beginning to twitch and clench around his cock and he curses loudly before bending down and kissing you deeply. Swallowing your moans, he groans against you as the head of his cock brushes against your cervix folds. Losing your mind once more, you grip onto his shoulder.

"I'm cumming!" You sob out as your eyes fill with tears.

"Good girl, baby. Cum on my cock. You look so gorgeous when you cum for me." His thumb trails over your bottom lip as you lose yourself in the pleasure.

Your body locks before going boneless as you orgasm. Sobbing loudly, your back bows off the bed. Ears ringing with white noise, you whimper gently. 

"Oh shit! That's it, little one. Your pussy got so tight!" He cries out as he snaps his hips harder. 

His hands grab at your breasts, squeezing and rolling them roughly as his thrusts become erratic and out of rhythm. 

"Oh God, please give me a baby. Take my cum deep in your pretty pussy. Please baby." He begs as he stills inside of you.

"Fuck, take it deep baby girl. Shit!" He cries out as ropes of warm cum paint the walls of your cunt. 

He lets out a shaky breath before burying his face into your neck. "I love you baby so much." 

He pulls out gently before lifting your hips. "Keep 'em up for a bit." He instructs before kissing you sweetly.

"You read Take One, didn't you?" You ask, voice riddled with exhaustion. 

When he doesn't respond you smirk tiredly. His lips drift over your cheek before nodding.

"Forgive me." He whispers to you.

He sits up on his knees before stuffing his cum back into your pussy as it begins to slowly weep from you.

"I'm sorry I wrote it and didn't explain why I was being so coarse with you." He runs his thumb over your bottom lip.

"I love you, little one. We're perfection together and children will only add to our amazing life. I want them with you, too. I want everything with you." He tells you, onyx irises staring earnestly.

You giggle before opening your arms. Laying beside you, he clicks his teeth before pulling you into his side. 

"I love you, too. Always." You say as you hook your chin to his pectoral muscle. He wrinkles his nose to you before kissing your forehead.

Sitting down on the couch, you close your laptop before side eyeing your fiance. 

There he sits, beautiful and poised as ever. Sipping his beer, his hand lands on your thigh. He leaves gentle strokes as he notices the attention you're giving him. 

Turning his head away from the movie, he tilts his head to you before leaning in and kissing your forehead. You smile at the warmth of his lips before coddling into his side. 

"Finished this weeks chapter?" He asks gently as his thumb caresses your skin.

"The last chapter actually." You reply as he offers you a sip of his beer. You shake your head with a smile as you extend your feet to the coffee table. 

"Last chapter? But we have so much more to do together. Like getting married and having kiddies. Buying a house and things of that nature." He whispers as he kisses your cheek.

"The ending is perfect for right now. I would really like you to read it." 

Muting the television, he turns his body towards you fully before furrowing his eyebrows. "I don't read it anymore, you know that. It's a trust thing for us." 

You giggle before putting the laptop on his lap. "Just read it. Okay? It's the last chapter… You might find it...uplifting." You tell him.

Placing the beer on the table, he sucks air in through his teeth before opening up your laptop. "Alright." He mumbles

Your feet find their place tucked underneath you as he begins to read.

There are certain ways that one can feel pure bliss. Whether it be seeing a lost loved one after a long while or hearing a song that strikes all of the right cords inside of you. Pure bliss can come in many forms. 

Today was your form of pure bliss. The sex god, your sex god had finally arrived back home from work. Sweaty, with a tired smile gracing his face as he throws his leather jacket onto the coat rack.

Your insides jump with joy, nervously excited giggles raring to pass your lips as he turns to you.

"Hi beautiful." He murmurs with a wide smile before pecking your lips gently.

"Hi." You whisper again his lips before copying the expression on his face.

His head turns to the dinner table, fully set with hot food waiting in the middle. Two candles on either side, picturesque like it was taken straight out of Good Housekeeping. 

"Wow. This looks amazing. Thank you baby!" Yoongi claps his hands happily as you both walk over to the table. Usually you both sit at the ends of the table but today you've taken the seat beside him.

Grabbing your hand, he gives the back of it a gentle kiss before leaning back in his chair. 

"Why such a lush dinner? Did you see my newest movie?" He asks with a laugh.

Butterflies roam free within you at his question. You giggle with him before holding your breath as he picks up the linen napkin from his dish. He gives a quick glance to the plate before almost giving himself whiplash to look back down at it. Sitting in the middle of the plate is a monochrome picture. 

Just a little hint of something white inside grey matter. Taking a sharp breath, he lets out a strangled noise before shaking hands approach the picture. "Oh my God." He whispers before clutching at the paper.

Your hands press together like a prayer as you bring them to your lips. He lets out a loud sob, eyes screwing shut as his hands continue to shake.

"You're pregnant?!" He cries out loudly.

"Yes. I'm pregnant." You say with a giggle as he kicks his chair away. Grabbing your wrist tighter he hauls you up before burying your face into his chest. 

"Oh, little one. Thank you." He cries as he holds you tightly to his body.

Yoongi wipes at his eyes before turning his head to you and sniffing quietly.

"It's beautiful, baby. Seriously. You need to be published. Get your own movie or something." Your fiance says as he closes his laptop.

With a smile, you lean your head against the top of the couch. "So what do you think about me being pregnant?" You ask gently.

He smirks before placing the hardware down on the table and grabbing you. He holds you close to his chest and you can feel his steady heartbeat which has become your life song. 

"We're trying, it'll come babe." He whispers as he runs his hand over your head in a calming manner.

"I use Take One as a diary. It's there to help me keep track of real life events too." He hums in reply before swaying your bodies in tandem.

He smiles unknowingly as his eyes shut. Real life events? Real life?

You wait patiently for it to set it, staring at the television as it lights up with different scenes of the movie he was watching. 

Then all at once, he goes rigid and you give a relieved laugh.

"Didn't take too long now did it?" You tease him as he pulls away from you.

Looking back up at him, his eyes are wide. Pressing both hands to either side of your face, you can see his eyes beginning to water with emotional tears.

"You're pregnant? With my baby? My perfect, precious baby?" He asks and he takes in a deep breath as you nod.

He scoffs loudly before sobbing. He caresses your cheeks with his thumbs as his eyes screw shut. His chest racks with emotion as he bites his bottom lip. 

"Fuck I love you." He cries.

His lips press to yours and you close your eyes to take in the passionate kiss.

"I love you too." You whisper against him.

Yoongi groans as he sits down in the director chair. He sips his coffee before looking over the set for the day. He chuckles to himself before folding his arms.

It's your voice that has his head cocking to the side as you step on the set. Stomach so large he's certain you can't even see your feet today. 

"Hi my loves." He says as he holds his hand out to you.

You wrinkle your nose, grabbing his hand as you place a kiss to his temple. 

"Hey boss man! I'm ready to go." He hears from the side of the set and his attention turns to the owner of the voice as he rubs at your belly.

"Y/N, this is Park Jimin. He'll be playing Yoongi in Take One." He introduces the younger man.

You bow your head to him as you take a seat besides your husband. Lazily he rubs at your stomach before calling everyone to their places. 

"Look at us, huh? A director and a screenplay writer for the biggest porn films in the industry. Who would have thought?" He whispers in your ear as the lights begin to dim.

With a laugh you nudge his shoulder as Jimin props himself up against the hotel door just like the first chapter of Take One.

As the scene begins, you find your attention wavering to your newly married husband. Tilting your head, you take in his handsome features. A god among men.

The giddiness explodes inside of you as normal and you feel his son kick inside of you. With a snort, your thumb runs over his wedding band as he holds his hand.

Who knew writing a simple story would get you here? In the greatest place you could ever dream of?

There’s something magical about meeting the right someone. Captivating, even. The way irises flit between one another in a moment of glorious silence. The breath that is held within one’s chest as you stare longingly at the other person before you. Hands could shake from nerves, excitement- both, even. It had never happened for Min Yoongi. Until you. 

[permanentcrossfics]

Twelve Hours In Miami // h.s.

You looked at the alarm clock next to your bed. “It’s 6:15.”

He had the grace to look at least a little embarrassed. “Yeah, but… it’s my last day here. And I haven’t seen you once.”

“You were busy,” you said automatically, a familiar excuse that had become rote at some point. “We were--”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his hands together and cleared his throat. Busy, busy, always busy. “But my flight’s not until this afternoon, so I thought… my morning’s free, and if you want to….”

“What time is your flight?”

Eleven, twelve, one…?

“Five.”

“Five!?”

“Thirty,” he confirmed. “That’s when I leave for the airport, anyway.”

He was not serious. He couldn’t be.

“You’re seriously--”

“Going to spend the next twelve or so hours with you, yeah,” he said in one quick breath. “If you’ll let me.”

Read NOW on Patreon // Tumblr // Wattpad

This took a minute (yes, I hate italicizing from Google and making a Wattpad cover that much. Yes, I will avoid it like the plague. Yes, there was a lot else going on, as well). Thank you to all of you who were patient! I hope you enjoy xx

The knock on your door was too loud, insistent, and rhythmic for it to be an accident, but it was too early for it to be anybody you’d want in your room. 

Whatever it was in the Miami air, it’d absolutely drained you of all energy. Every night since you’d landed, you’d passed out at 11:00pm, sharp, and slept until around 7:30 or 8:00 in the morning, and the only reason you got out of bed then was the only reason you were even in the city to begin with. 

“Work trip? To Miami?” 

Harry had brightened considerably when you mentioned when and where you’d be going for a quick turnaround, and you hadn’t understood why until he told you what wasn’t quite public yet. He’d be working, too, and his calendar was full (he’d absolutely deserved the ribbing you gave him when he told you that), but, “‘S’nice sometimes, y’know? To have a friend around?” 

Friend. You hadn’t seen your friend in the three days it’d been since you landed. Even despite being in the same hotel. Even despite having pockets of time in both your schedules that worked, and while part of it might be your fault and your inability to stay awake, part of it was just… timing. 

So much of what was between you could be boiled down to timing and lack thereof. Why would a weekend be any different? Why, on this weekend, would you be able to make it work when he had meetings and events jammed in and you had obligations of your own? Why would now work any better than the other opportunities that had fizzled despite every hope, effort, and intention? 

The knocking continued and you groaned, throwing the blankets you’d been huddled under down the bed as you twisted to look at the hotel alarm clock. 

Six in the morning. Six! And they were still going! They’d better be telling you something extremely good or extremely awful to be trying to break down your door this early, but when you glanced through the peephole, your annoyance was tempered with shock and a shot of elation. He was looking up and down the hall, suitcase on the ground next to him and already dressed for the day, and it was then you became aware of how little you were dressed. 

“Hang--” You cleared your throat and tapped the door. “Hang on, I’ll be right….” You scrambled back to the armchair you’d thrown your robe on last night to have something on over the camisole and underwear you’d crawled into bed with before twisting the locks and opening the door. “Is everything-- what are you doing here?” 

His shoulders rose and fell with his deep breath and you swore you thought his eyes took a quick trip up and down your body. “Morning,” he said, his own voice miles smoother than yours. How long had he been awake? “D’you mind if I…?”

You shook your head and stepped back and he and his baggage disappeared into your room as you closed up. When you rejoined him, he’d deposited his suitcase next to the luggage rack that held yours, and he’d taken off the tinted sunglasses that he had no business wearing so early in the morning, anyway. “Did they kick you out?” you asked, still struggling to grasp for real words that meant anything. 

He smiled halfway and shook his head. “No, nothing like that.” Now that he was in your room, you could pay attention to him. His hair looked like it still had a little bit of leftover product in it, but not in a dirty, greasy way. His loose-fitting trousers were fastened snugly right above his hips, but it was the t-shirt that made your mouth go dry and your mind wander. Tight and tucked into his trousers, gloves wished they could fit hands like this fit his torso. It was close, and you could see practically every line and indentation of his stomach and chest. 

“Hmm?”

He laughed once. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Oh.” You took a deep breath. “Why are you here?” you asked.

“Figured I’d come hang out.”

You looked at the alarm clock next to your bed. “It’s 6:15.” 

He had the grace to look at least a little embarrassed. “Yeah, but… it’s my last day here. And I haven’t seen you once.”

“You were busy,” you said automatically, a familiar excuse that had become rote at some point. “We were--”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his hands together and cleared his throat. Busy, busy, always busy. “But my flight’s not until this afternoon, so I thought… my morning’s free, and if you want to….” 

“What time is your flight?”

Eleven, twelve, one…?

“Five.”

“Five!?” 

“Thirty,” he confirmed. “That’s when I leave for the airport, anyway.” 

He was not serious. He couldn’t be. 

“You’re seriously--”

“Going to spend the next twelve or so hours with you, yeah,” he said in one quick breath. “If you’ll let me.” 

His eyes were wide and hopeful but guarded, you realized, anticipating the possibility that you might say no. 

“I’ve been trying for days.” The quiet confession almost drowned in the deafening silence of the room, and in that moment, you remembered every missed call, every text, every visit to your door that he’d stolen just to see you before he had to run off to an event and you had to crawl into bed. You remembered every fleeting embrace, every missed kiss to the corner of your mouth, every look that had lasted a second too long to be normal and lacked the ability to make him stay. “But we just never… s’never a good time, so I’m making the time for you now. If that’s something you want.” 

“Do I want time with you?” You clutched the neckline of your robe like an old woman clutched pearls, and your throat felt tight, full of words you’d swallowed again, and again, and again. Did you want time with him? Of course you wanted time with him. Five minutes, five hours, five days, five years, you wanted anything he could give, but you’d given up on that a little bit. Not on him, but on you. 

“Can y’make time?” His throat bobbed and the smile he gave you was crushingly vulnerable even with its self-assured charm. “For me?” 

Yes or no. In or out. Carpe diem. 

You nodded and it was like a pin had pricked the bubble around both of you, tension easing out in a whistle. Harry shuffled closer and you stood, glued to the carpet in your bare feet, as he lifted his hands. He hesitated for a moment and you saw a glimpse of his tongue held between his lips in thought before he cupped your cheeks. Together, you exhaled, and your eyes closed, heart racing uncontrollably. His hands were warm, sturdy, and soft in their own way, and your lips parted when he drew his thumbs along the apples of your cheeks. 

Days after weeks after months after who knew how long, and now he was standing in front of you in a hotel room of all places with less than twelve hours before he had to leave for the airport, but if it was all the time in the world you had…. 

He kissed you, then, and what little time you had left stood still. A distinct sensation of relief flooded through you, like a geyser that had been waiting to gush, and you sighed through your nose, leaning into his mouth. He’d shaved, but you could still feel the sandpaper of his chin against yours, and it was a sharp contrast to the soft sweep of his tongue into your mouth. For all of five seconds, you couldn’t think, or move, but when he groaned -- deep, throaty, and in a way only he could -- it snapped something in you. 

His chest and stomach were firm under your roaming hands, although you liked the softness around his hips best because of the way he sucked in a quick breath. You curled your fingers into the cotton and swayed when he stepped forward and tipped your head back to deepen the kiss further, showing both his hand and his greed, and it was your turn to whimper when he slipped one of his hands down your neck and over your shoulder underneath the robe you’d thrown on. Not anything like the friendly pats and lingering squeezes he’d given you in the past and that you’d returned in kind. There was intent for skin, skin, and more skin in this, and you’d no sooner put your hand on the knot around your waist than he’d joined your fingers with his to pull what you hadn’t realized you’d tied so well. 

You shivered when it dropped to the floor, but stretched yourself out against his body when he wrapped his arms ever so carefully around your back. It was like despite having his tongue down your throat (don’t think about it, or you’ll laugh and ruin the moment, you reminded yourself), he still wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you or where he could put his hands. It was sweet -- funny, but sweet, and respectful in a way you hadn’t anticipated but could have, maybe, expected? He was only a man, and common decency was a low bar, but if the situation were reversed, you didn’t know if you’d think or be able to do the same. His arms were crossed over your back at his forearms, but you could sense his palms hovering out to the side even as kisses grew increasingly frantic with nicking teeth and off center meetings of your mouths. Focusing very hard on not losing those, you clumsily squeezed his bicep until he relinquished his hold a bit, but before he could finish his mumbled question, you grabbed his wrist and, without preamble, placed his hand on one of your breasts. 

Despite not wanting to lose the kisses -- they were good kisses, needed kisses, kisses you’d waited a long time for -- you both broke and stood there, nose to nose, chests heaving with his hand cupped over your breast. This was….

“S’different,” he rasped and you nodded. Not just friends, not just kissing. You ran your thumb along the back of his hand, over tendons that were struggling not to flex and to squeeze and feel. He must’ve taken the pause as hesitation, because he started to pull his hand away, but you shook your head and held his hand in place before bearing down on it with gentle pressure. 

“Ok,” you whispered breathlessly, nodding slightly, and when he kissed you again, he caught your chin, then your jaw, your neck -- all the way down -- and then across your shoulder. You were glad he was holding onto you when your head tipped back as he pulled the strap of your camisole to the side to sponge eager kisses any and everywhere you’d let him, because honestly? If he didn’t have his arm slanted between your shoulder blades, your legs would’ve crumpled from underneath you. 

As it was, you both nearly tripped on your robe when you moved backwards towards the bed, and you landed harder than he did. Your laughs were welcome in the moment, though, and did nothing to alter the mood, and you were still giggling when he resumed his kisses. They only quieted when he reached your chest, and for some inexplicable reason, you tried very hard not to breathe as his own and his lips and the tip of his nose dragged and tickled your skin, but when he slipped his fingers under your neckline to tug it down, there was no need to try at all. 

“Holy shit,” he uttered under his breath in faint disbelief. You didn’t even have time to process the fact that he was in awe of you, before his lips were on your breasts, moving between them in a very careful, very attentive, almost laughably even way, like he didn’t want to miss anything. Your back arched slightly when he settled against you, body warm and mouth hot between your breasts as he nuzzled, kissed, licked, and sucked, taking his time to learn how they felt and what made you moan. As he explored, you did, too, if less so, but your hands found his hair, and petted his face, and ran up and down his shoulders, arms, and back. It was when his own reached between your legs that you clamped your thighs down over his wrist and he lifted up.

“Ok?” His eyes were dark and his hair mussed -- partially thanks to you -- and the pink flush in his cheeks had nothing on the color of his mouth. His forehead was damp and you belatedly realized your chest was, too, and you could feel yourself quivering with the heat of his hand pressed so intimately against you. 

“Yes.” You pressed your hand to his cheek and he turned into your wrist, breathing deeply and kissing your pulse point. 

“Is this…?” He swallowed. “I don’t-- we don’t have to do anything more, I only--” 

“No,” you rushed to say. “No, I just… wasn’t expecting--”

“I’m sorry, I should’ve--”

“It’s ok,” you said. “I’m ok. I want to, it just felt--” New, different, good, so fucking good, and it’d surprised you. 

“Sure?”

Wordlessly, you nodded, and forced your legs to open despite how tense with anticipation they were. You nodded again and let out a slow breath, but he watched you until your eyes closed and your body melted into the mattress. When he finally ran his thumb down your slit through your underwear, you clenched and bit your lip to muffle a sound, lips twitching. This felt… nice. Better than nice, this care and intention stoked something in you that you didn’t remember feeling since you were a frustrated and hormonal teenager raging out of control. He was going to fit the minutes and hours from days and months that had been squandered into every second of the twelve hours you had left, wasn’t he? 

Harry pressed his thumb into your clit and rubbed smooth, warm circles over it, and you touched the back of your hand to your mouth. “That’s good,” you mumbled, heartbeat quickening, face crumpling when he increased the pressure slightly. It was when he kissed your abdomen that you whimpered and pushed your hand into his hair, but he kept kissing along the waistband of your underwear, and your belly tensed when he took a deep breath. You weren’t quite aware of when or how he got them off you -- let alone how he’d managed to do so seamlessly and without awkward wriggles or kicks or knees to his face -- but you were very aware of when he finally had you spread open and he was on his stomach between your legs. You were very aware of how hot his breath was on your cunt, and you were very aware of the sound of that first delicate, velvety lick in dead silence. He got through three, maybe four, careful, languid strokes of his tongue in, with his eyes closed in steadfast concentration and his hair falling over his brow before he licked up your slit and finished it with your clit firmly suctioned into his mouth. 

Your jaw dropped in awe. “Oh my--!” His lips fluttered and your whole chest opened with your breath. “Ah…!” 

He groaned and your eyes watered, and you watched, unable to tear yourself away. He was ravenous -- eating you out like his life depended on it while simultaneously holding back and never giving or taking as much as either of you wanted. Each glide of his tongue was deep and smooth, and each suck hollowed his cheeks for only a moment. You whimpered and pulled your fingers through his hair uselessly to quell the jitters and need to do something. Every time you thought he was going to suckle for a little longer, a little harder, he’d break off abruptly and the inch you’d gained climbing would be erased by your backslide. You were sweating from the effort and duration it was taking -- your breasts and stomach had a sheen on them, and your thighs slipped against the side of his head. His roots were damp and hot, too, to the point where the air conditioner may as well have stopped working, but for all the world he looked like he’d never been happier or more content than he was to be eating your pussy. 

“H-Harry….” Your breath hitched, a muted cry caught in your throat when again he released the toe-curling suction too soon for it to matter. “Please, please,” you begged, fingers combing through his hair as your pelvis rolled under his mouth. “I can’t… I wanna cum.” Straight to the point, unable to wheedle or dance around the subject -- it wasn’t like he didn’t have his face pressed into your cunt right then or anything. “I wanna cum, I really--” 

His eyes, which had been closed up until that point, slowly opened and locked on you, darker than you thought you’d ever seen them. One of his hands unstuck itself from your thigh and he reached up your stomach and you clasped it in yours, fingers laced tightly with an almost crushing intensity between his as you nodded encouragingly, desperately, mouthing please, please to him. He shifted against the mattress, then, and, still holding your gaze and your hand, he puckered his lips.

The ugliest sound ripped from your chest, but you laughed in almost hysterical relief because he wasn’t stopping -- at long last, he wasn’t stopping, and the pressure and tension tickling your abdomen grew tighter, promising to live to its full potential. “Holy shit!” you breathed, smiling despite yourself. “Oh, God, I’m gonna cum… you’re gonna make me cum, I’m-- oh!” 

You cried out when he pressed his mouth closer, rutting his face against you in a steady rhythm. The last thing you saw before you closed your eyes were his, and you wheezed and whimpered your way through convulsions with their hunger burned into your eyes as you called out for him. You’d never felt an orgasm like this -- so thorough, deep, and full bodied, and entirely draining. 

“Fuck!” 

It wasn’t the guttural swear that made your eyes fly open even as the room spun, but the sensation of his teeth against your thigh. Not hard, but sharp, and when you looked at him you found his face screwed up against your leg, rutting against the mattress. Belatedly, your brain put the pieces together -- it wasn’t just his face in your cunt, it’d been his whole body, the whole time, driving himself against the bed in search of his own relief with his mouth full of you and your thigh when he wasn’t whimpering breathless apologies and confessions of how hard he was (“M’sorry-- oh, shit, m’so-- m’hard, m’sorry, love, m’so-- hurts, I just need--!”). He squeezed your thigh with bruising force, letting out keening moans as his shakes turned to shudders, and you knew he was finished when he let out a noise so deep your hair stood on end and he came to a sudden stop with his face still burrowed against your leg.

“Fuck,” he rasped. “F-fuck, s’so… sorry, that’s….” He pressed his forehead into your skin. “That was incredible,” he said, voice thick and unevenly pitched. “You were….” 

He picked his head up and wiped his mouth and the tip of his nose with his thumb before slipping it past his lips and sucking lightly, forehead lined in agony. With weak fingers, you tugged the back of his t-shirt, and he crawled on even weaker hands and knees up your body. It was a struggle to get it untucked from his trousers and even worse to get it off his torso from how damp it was, but eventually you did, and you threw it away with a whoosh and a thud. He kicked his worn in white Vans off his feet and they landed with a thunk off the side of the bed, and his trousers were next, and when they were gone, you flattened yourself against him, mouth on his shoulder and leg between his, desperately seeking skin on skin. 

“Alright?” He cupped the back of your head. “Ok?” You nodded and he kissed your forehead. “You’re ok,” he mumbled. “You’re good, honey.”

“Are you?” you asked against him. Because he couldn’t stop trembling -- his muscles kept jumping under your touch and his heart was giving its own big band performance in his chest. 

“L’be fine,” he said. “Be ok, just need… need a minute.” 

Gradually, his heart and yours both slowed and heavy breathing evened out. And the last thing you saw before you closed your eyes for good and slipped under was the time.

6:52. Ten and a half hours to go. 

[waheelawhisperer]

One final note (I swear. For now) on the V6 fight: I dig Blake. Her civil rights struggle's compelling, her ability to kick people in the head is neat, and the power of Mutual Yearning did at least as much in the Haven skirmish as Maidenbowl 1. All that noted...her writer(s) picked a funny time for crucial evil ex semblance exposition. Kinda wish that had been worked into the spooky barn convo, possibly with a side of 'I should've warned you all (but you especially) about him back at Beacon'.

I feel like the Semblance exposition bit actually would have fit just fine in a traditional anime, where talking is a free action and characters regularly explain how their powers work (or how someone else's powers work). Bleach or Naruto would've had a whole episode dedicated to Adam's Semblance and probably worked his tragic backstory in along with it. RWBY, though, does things a little differently.

This show is not big on explanation or exposition, especially during fights. It's great because it makes the fights fluid, with few breaks in the action, but it can make it hard to tell what's going on at times. RWBY's not inclined to feed the viewer information and does not like to nail down details at all (we still don't even have a concrete timeline, for example. I've seen multiple posts trying to figure out when Beacon's school year starts, they've all come to different conclusions, and all of those conclusions have been reasonably supported by evidence in the show. Apparently this avoids plotholes, somehow). RWBY does a lot of the detail work it does give us in the background, like the way we see the headlines in Volume 7 that are very easy to miss and yet give us important context about the situation the protagonists are involved in. I think that when you engage in this kind of storytelling, you have to walk the line between assuming your audience is smart enough to figure out what you want them to know and putting the burden on them to tell your story for you.

To give you an idea of what I mean, let's talk about FromSoft games for a bit. Dark Souls, Bloodborne, Elden Ring, etc. all like to convey their story primarily through item descriptions, dialogue with NPCs, and environmental details. The player characters don't take an active role in the setting's plot so much as wander into it, kill the things that are trying to kill them, steal lunch money from gods, and somehow ascend to unimaginable power. The FromSoft style of storytelling locks information crucial to understanding either the setting as a whole or a given aspect of it behind an item hidden in the ass end of an optional zone that the player may not ever even find, much less thoroughly explore, and it's such a commonly-acknowledged aspect of Soulsborne games that "I'll just wait for the Vaati video" has become a meme among the playerbase. To elaborate, the lore's so damn complicated and ambiguous that much of the playerbase doesn't think they'll be able to absorb it without the assistance of a YouTuber who's built a specific niche around making FromSoft lore accessible to the studio's audience.

Arknights is another good example. There's nothing wrong with asking the audience to put some thought into the story, to read between the lines a little, but Arknights writes a whole damn novel between every line and then expects you to spend half a day just figuring out what the hell is going on in a given cutscene. We run into the same situation as we do with Soulsborne, where the Tumblr Loremasters wind up explaining story events to the people having trouble following it, something I saw just recently with the Invitation to Wine event (it does not help that the physical design of Arknights's storytelling interface is ass. The text is so small you need glasses to read it, the interface is often dark and dingy, and rarely does anything pop. Fate Grand Order is dogshit in almost every possible way, but at least I can read the fucking story without straining my eyes. I may not know what the hell is going on sometimes, because Nasu is a lunatic, but I can at least read the words he puts on the page without undue effort. That makes a big difference).

As you may have gathered, I don't like this method of storytelling. I think it's lazy and places too much of a burden on the audience. It feels to me like I'm expected to do the work of coming up with and justifying the story instead of the people who are getting paid actual money to do it.

I'll admit that this is at least partially personal preference. I'm generally uncomfortable with ambiguity, and while I love coming up with anything from stupid daydreams to full-blown fictional universes, I don't consume media with the expectation that I need to be developing the story myself. I expect the writer(s) to have already done that, which is why I have such a love-hate relationship with FromSoft games. Great lore, interesting world, terrible way of conveying it.

Anyway, RWBY sometimes struggles with this as well. There are a lot of things in the show that I can come up with reasonable explanations for when someone raises the point, but... those explanations aren't provided in the show. Hell, we frequently have basic worldbuilding stuck in side materials like the official guidebook or World of Remnant. A lot of what we know about how Dust works, what the Kingdoms are like, the CCT, etc. is found in a series of short expository videos instead of the actual show. It ultimately feels like doing homework is necessary to get a real understanding of basic elements of the show. I'm not asking for RWBY to drop an infodump in every single episode, but I'd very much like the show to have put in a bit more work in building up the setting (we've still learned next to nothing about Vacuo in the show proper, for example. Most of what we know comes from the CFVY books, as far as I'm aware, and who knows how canon those will be once the show reaches Vacuo?). I really think we would've benefitted from one more Volume at Beacon fleshing out both the setting and the relationships between the characters before the genre shift in the Maya era.

Yeah, maybe more information about how Adam fights could've been worked into the barn conversation, but Blake is more focused on reassuring Yang than preparing her to fight Adam again and then fumbles the ball by suggesting Yang needs to be protected, at which point Yang isn't interested in listening anymore. Sure, the writers could've written it differently, but I'm not sure they really needed to, since I think what they're going for here is that neither of the Bees are really ready to confront Adam again. They will be, but they're not there yet.

I don't really think saying "I should've warned you about him back at Beacon" really fits what the narrative has been giving us, though. Think about the way Blake behaves in the Beacon era. During Volume 1, she (thinks she) is free of him. There's no reason for her to tell her teammates about Adam because he's not part of her life anymore. She's made a fresh start. She's goofing off with her teammates and enjoying her new life as a Huntress. By the time she realizes Adam's still a threat, it's too late. She doesn't seem to have any idea how deep his obsession with her would run until he actually shows up on her doorstep, maiming her partner/future girlfriend and threatening to destroy everything and everyone she loves. She isn't going to tell her teammates about him because without any real reason to believe he'd go after her, she's just sharing her tragic backstory for no reason.

Also yeah I love Blake, she deserves all the hugs and people who love her enough to build her up instead of tearing her down and a goddamn choreographer who cares about getting the most out of her kit.

[chil2de]

Hii! It's me again, the "teasing mom's broyfriend" anon. I just- you about killed me with that sequel. Hot doesn't even begin to describe it, really 🥵🥵

I have more :))

------------------------

Megumi knows. He knows what a slut you are, knows you've been fucking his father behind his and your mom's back. He knows you only got with him to provoque his father. He knows all of that. And yet, he can't let go of you. He won't do his father this favour.

He avoids going to your mom's house with you as best he can, bc he just can't stand the two of you doing this to her, the poor woman doesn't deserve it. He never touches you when you come back from your mom's, bc he just knows you've been with him. There is, however, an exception. The only thing that can make him help you tease his dad is when they fight.

When it happens, Megumi goes visit your mom with you, and whenever she can't see it, he makes it a point to touch you a little more than would be appropriate in front of Toji. The mix of Megumi's hands all over you and Toji's warning glare could probably make you cum right then and there. Once, when your mom was out doing grocery shopping and Toji stayed behind with the two of you, Megs was all to eager to fuck you, make you scream his name, all for Toji's benefit.

Oh, you do so love it when they fight. You know you should hope for peace and harmony between father and son, but you have much more fun when they are at each other's throat.

You wonder what you would have to do to have both of them filling you up at the same time...

ugh okay sorry if this post is just a massive wall of text i had to cut down on spacing because i kept reaching tumblr’s limit on characters, and uh... incase you couldn’t tell, shit’s about to get serious if i wrote this much LOL this probably looks so clunkyyy :(( i apologise but i have like a line left or two? so i’ll compress everything by saying a massive thank you because this would not have been possible without your sexy ass intellect. i was seriouly fucking dying writing this, it might be the first or second piece i’m genuinely proud of and i thank you :) i hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it

this piece makes sense as a standalone, but works a lot better if you read the previous piece! read my disclaimer here if you’re new <3

w.c: 2.8k / characters: 15k (incl spaces) and a special thank you to my beloved anonie. couldn’t have done it without you ❤️

day and night: two.

your bedroom door shuts with a quiet ring. you can only slump down against it, knees held into your chest. your thighs are still quivering like a poor little lamb.

as you move to type out a text for megumi to not come over, there’s a faint knock at the window. your heart burns, throat clogged and knees weak.

you don’t know if you can get up. hell, you don’t know if you should get up. there’s another few delicate rips against the glass and you manage to stumble over in fear of attracting toji’s attention.

“megumi?!” you mouth his name in alarm, dismay crawling onto your features.

your boyfriend gives you a dead once over, noting your matted hair, smeared mascara and weak posture.

of course he knows.

you can discern it clearly from the way he refuses to meet your gaze.

“can you just let me in?” he whispers, tone flat as his index motions over to the lock of the window.

you don’t know what to do.

after all, you’ve still got toji’s cum flowing inside you from earlier.

you fumble backwards, moving to allow his lanky figure to slip inside. megumi manages to hoist his leg up and over, squeezing inside with ease. he closes the window shut behind him, pulling the curtains.

“m-megumi? what are you doing he-“

he doesn’t have time to waste.

megumi knocks the wind out of your lungs as his cold hands seize the sides of your head, stealing your lips for a kiss. he tugs at your bottom lip, tongue drinking you in for a couple of moments like you’re the last meal he’ll ever eat.

“shit.” he hisses, pulling his face back and screwing his eyebrows in mutiny.

oh, but if you didn’t love the way he looked at you like you were pure filth.

“you taste like him. it’s disgusting.” he spits, wiping his delicate lips with the back of his hand.

he knew, but there was always a part of him that wished you wouldn’t submit yourself to the likes of toji. he just had to see it for himself.

“come on, megumi-chan~ thats no way to talk to your girlfriend, is it?

your mother doesn’t deserve this. megumi doesn’t deserve the heartache, either.

megumi can’t see anything but the spitting image of his father all over your body, licking and fondling all the same crevices that he has. but he can’t get enough of you. he can’t stop, can’t turn away from you. he knows that at the end of the day you're spoon-feeding him phrases he wants to hear.

but you’re so good to him.

your pussy fits him like a glove. your hand intertwines with his perfectly. your head is the perfect size to cuddle onto his chest.

there’s something about you that makes you more addicting than nicotine.

bony and slender fingertips ghost over your thighs. you can’t help the squeak that hiccups from you. megumi raises an eyebrow in scepticism before flipping the hem of your miniskirt up.

he scoffs, slicking his long middle finger against your hot cunt.

“don’t hold it in.” he reprimands you, flashing a grimace as you squabble with him.

“b-but toji-“

“but what? am i not good enough for you?”

you swallow thickly, chanting a small prayer before allowing toji’s cum to drip out of your pussy. you shiver, goosebumps licking your skin when you can feel the warmth of his seed ooze and coat your soft thighs. you can’t avoid the burn of megumi’s regard as he watches the cum slowly flow out of you.

he’ll make you want him.

megumi can’t fully comprehend why you keep running back to his father instead of him, why you choose toji over him. like father like son, it evokes a bubble of magma in the form of competition and jealousy.

he’ll make you beg for him. that’s for sure.

“get on the bed.” he whispers, tone cold and even. there’s no warmth to his voice, even with his usual monotonous tendencies you can tell you struck a nerve. it makes your stomach churn, butterflies swooping in and adorning your vital organs.

like a moth drawn to a flame, as though you have no mind of your own, you step backwards until the back of your knees kiss the metal frame of your bed. megumi towers over you, pushing you backwards as he crawls in between your thighs.

the crisp ring of his zipper sliding down clashes against the room. why should he undress himself properly for the likes of someone like you?

“there’s no point in prepping you. i think you know that.” megumi sighs, relieving his twitching cock from the confines of his painfully tight boxers.

you can feel the avarice swirl in your abdomen, cold fear stilling in your veins at the mere thought that you could get caught by toji at any second. it makes your fingertips tingle and stomach churn. when you wail a needy whimper, megumi only shakes his head before plastering his icy cool hand against your wet lips.

a part of megumi wants to let all hell break loose. if he allows you to moan as you please, it won’t be just toji hearing your cries of ecstasy. knowing your mother, perhaps she’d be a little glad to know that your boyfriend is meeting your needs sufficiently. whereas toji?

it puts him in a predicament. from a bystanders point of view, toji has no right to storm in here and to shriek at megumi for blowing your brains out.

why?

because he’s not your dad.

he’s not a paternal figure in your life. there’s no right for him to say what you can and cannot do. he won’t hold that kind of reign over you like your mother does. and megumi likes that. he relishes the idea of toji being forced to listen to you babble megumi’s name, to mewl and cry for him to hit it deeper whilst he can’t do anything but complain.

it’s not like you haven’t heard your mother with other men plenty of times. it’s only natural, right? hell, she’ll probably gossip with you about it.

a carnal desire glosses over megumi’s steel blue gaze. like a wolf waiting to pounce onto a hare. he can see the way your thighs squeeze, how you gulp before him with those doe eyes of yours. you’re practically purring underneath him. for once, megumi gathers the reasoning to understand why his father finds you so intriguing. there’s nothing better than having your own toy melt and oblige under every command.

your boyfriend’s hand finds its way to your chest, where he rests the palm flat underneath your breasts. he steadies himself, using you as leverage as he guides his dick through the cum stained mess of your cunt. your heart pounds in anticipation, drool coating the back of your tongue as your pussy throbs around him. he manages to fit his tip in, dragging the enlarged and sensitive muscle against your walls. your ankles flutter around megumi’s waist, lower body strength trembling as you attempt to pull him in further.

“m-megs- please..”

“what?” he screws his eyebrows, staring you down. you can’t find the words in you to plead for him.

“what the hell? why act all coy now?“

“that’s not how we do things around here, is it? so spit it out. i won’t get what you’re trying to say otherwise.”

megumi slips his dick out, grinding against your clit as his torso flushes against yours. he pulls you in for a quick kiss, enough to relinquish his appetite, but not enough to taste the filth that corrupts your sweet and innocent lips.

“those cute little whines of yours won’t help you, either.” his breath flickers against your skin, sticky tongue licking trails as he works to mark up your neck. you can feel the tears prick your eyes already. you’re suddenly hyper aware of your heartbeat pounding in your ears, how it throbs against your cunt and the droplets of perspiration trickling along your skin. you can feel megumi’s pulse heavy against your clit, the way his dick twitches as he smears the tip through the folds of your slick. it’s slowly driving him insane. but that’s okay. even through the static that bounces around in his skull- he knows that you hate it more.

after all, your boyfriend knows best.

your fingernails soar around to megumi’s back. you want to scratch him, but you can’t access his toned skin through the layers of his jacket. instead, you’re left fumbling and scrunching the fabric like a feline with an insatiable desire to itch its claws.

“megumi- please, it’s too much-“ you huff through laboured breaths, peering up at him through tear stained eyelashes.

it’s almost enough to make him melt. almost.

“what is?”

“this?”

he shifts himself back up, grabbing his dick and slipping only the tip in once more. he allows you a few centimetres extra before dipping back out and repeating the process again. megumi’s gaze locks with yours, as though he’s asking ‘is this what you want?’

“s-stop teasing me.. just put it in alreadyy~” you choke out a groan of frustration, ready to slam your hips down onto the full length of his shaft.

“why should i?”

“megumi, i swear to god- if you don’t fuck me right now-“

“-or what? you’ll go to my dad? good luck, when you couldn’t even fulfill your duties as being his toy.”

so fucking humiliating.

the way megumi instantly stands up and proceeds to stuff his still hard and leaking dick back into his boxers.

he’ll deal with it later.

you’re left stuttering, unable to form any coherent words, thoughts or insults to spew back at him. legs wide open, cunt empty and glistening in the blue tint of the moonlight.

he leans over, swiping some of your excess drool with his thumb before dipping it into your mouth. he half expects you to lick at his thumb, convince him to stay a little longer, but his skin sits in your mouth like a forgotten thermometer for a couple of seconds.

“if only you could see your face right now.” he hums, tone flat with a certain mockery.

sometimes, as the days pass, you can notice his resemblance growing closer and closer to toji.

-

the following day

you haven’t left the quarters of your room for the entire day. you’re stuck in bed, face mushed into the confines of your pillow. you’ve always held high regards of the fact that your libido isn’t necessarily extremely high, but when you’re promised dick just to be neglected of it? shit feels like you’re in heat. you can’t go to toji, because you’re mother’s home. not only that, but he’d be sure to teach you one of his lessons. you’re already shivering thinking of the conversation with him, how you’d even try to dig out of that hole you were already so deep in.

you can’t call megumi either… at least not for now. you sigh wistfully into the pillow, kicking your legs about on your bed as you hiss a groan of turmoil.

there’s a sudden knock at the door that snaps you out of your haze. it leaves you pumped, blood coursing through your veins and you shoot up like an attentive little puppy about to be taken for a walk.

“it’s open!” you clear your throat, humming.

the disappointment rocks your features so clearly that it’s embarrassing. it’s just your mother.

“you okay? thought you died in here, baby. lunch is ready, and your lovely megumi-kun came to say hello.”

what?

“megumi? that’s nice. did he leave a message or anything? like he just dropped by to say hello or-“

“hm? oh, no. he’s having lunch with us.”

“is everything okay, dear?”

“yeah! yeah, i’m good. sorry, i spaced out a little bit. small headache, that’s all. i’ll change clothes and i’ll come out to eat.” you dismiss your mother, keeping in the hyperventilation you’re about to undergo. she gives you a small glance of concern before returning to the dining room to serve her guests.

“(y/n)! we were just talking about you!” your mother hums, gifting you a smile of warmth and radiance as she pours drinks into some cups.

you can feel toji’s mocking stare dig holes into your skin.

you can fucking feel it.

you can imagine him saying it.

“slut.”

at the six chaired table, you scurry to sit the furthest away from megumi and toji. your mother shoots you a sideways glance, motioning for the seat between toji and megumi. you swallow thickly, awkwardly striding over to take a seat.

your knee accidentally knocks into toji’s and you instantly utter an apology.

“you should be.” he mutters underneath his breath, disguising the words as a sigh.

“so? you said you were talking about me?” you straighten yourself, perking up a semblance of cheerfulness and perfect innocence.

“oh, right! toji was just telling me how stuffed you were yesterday!”

your lids flicker in shock and you abruptly stare at toji, whose half lidded jade green eyes slowly land on yours before locking to meet your attention for a few seconds.

“sorry, what?” you stutter, finding it difficult to believe the situation.

“you know, the food? are you sure you’re alright, honey? you’ve been acting strange since this morning.”

“i’m fine, i swear. just some painkillers would be nice.”

when your mother turns around to rummage for some painkillers, she emits a squeak of alarm at the lack of them.

please. you’ll do anything to get out of this predicament.

“are we out? i can go grab some-“

“-no, that’s okay. i’ll head out. i need to grab a few extra things for dinner anyway. you three, make nice with each other!”

sure.

when the door shuts, you realise you’re out of options.

you can’t run away.

“so, megumi. how’s eating up after my leftovers feel?”

“leftovers? because one woman wasn’t enough for you?” megumi scoffs, averting his gaze.

“it’s not my problem that your woman came running to me. doesn’t that say something about you?”

“like what?”

“like, you can’t fuck her properly?”

“i can’t fuck her properly? but you’re telling her to keep your cum inside her? don’t you care what’ll happen if she gets pregnant?”

“see, megumi. she’s on birth control. you didn’t know that? and besides, if i didn’t know any better-“

toji finally allows you his undivided attention, staring right through to your soul.

“-i’d think your little girlfriend here likes walking around with my cum inside her.”

you’d be able to run a butter knife through the tension hanging in the air. the room holds its breath, and as do you in compliment of trying not to set things off into a piping hot mess.

“isn’t that right-“

“-princess?”

your fight or flight response kicks in at the malicious tone that coats toji’s tongue. you swallow thickly, throat parched and lips cracked.

but fuck.

if it isn’t the most arousing thing- the two of them squabbling over you.

toji screws his face at you, features lighting in a mix of awe and delight.

“really? you’re seriously enjoying this?” toji hums with mockery, eyebrows perking at your unusual behaviour. he can smell the sweet nectar of your arousal slicking against your underwear.

you abruptly stand up, ready to leave.

megumi’s hand curls around your wrist. he slings your hand behind your back, slamming you over the table. some silverware and plates clatter and dash against the hardwood floor.

“answer the question, (y/n).” he hisses.

you whimper a soft whine. there’s no way you’re answering that.

“get your fucking hands off of her.” toji barks, kicking his chair back.

“try me.”

something washes over you. a premonition, say. that if you don’t speak up, someone will end up seriously injured.

“i can’t choose between you two. i just can’t. so i think it’s the best option if we just stop this completely.” you sigh, prying megumi off of you. his stance relaxes and you wince at the pain in your spine. you rub your wrists in slight agony, refusing to meet either of their gazes.

“it’s been fun, but i think it’s time to draw the line-“

“no.” toji remarks offhandedly.

“huh?” you contort your face in offence. there’s something thick on megumi’s face, too. it almost looks like determination?

“i said no.” toji reiterates, taking a stride towards you.

his index and thumb caress your chin, tilting your jaw up to look at him.

“i don’t care how long it takes. whether it’s me or him-“

“-i’m making you choose.”

[pars-ley]

hi! i just came across your page the other day and i’ve read all of your drabbles and stories multiple times lol! so for my ask, i would love it if you did a college AU with popularjock!jk and have it be similar to the movie ‘A Cinderella Story’. some angst with smut and a happy ending if possible! oh and bestfriendjimin! as well :) hope this is not too much to request! ily

At the stroke of Midnight

Pairing: Jungkook x f reader

Summary: One popular boy + One 'uncool' girl + One school dance + One necklace left behind = A cinderella story.

Genre: Angst / Fluff / Smut / Cinderella au / A Cinderella story au / comedy / popular jock jungkook / best friend Jimin

Warnings: Suggestive language / sex 

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Word Count: 4k

Beta reader: @casuallyimagining

A/N: I am so sorry this has taken me so long! I had no clue about this film, so writing this entailed some research and me watching the movie...twice haha. I really hope I did it justice for you and you enjoy it. Thank you for the request!

"So, what's prince charming saying now that's so much more important than your best friend?" Jimin pouts, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.

You flush slightly. "He wants to meet." Grimacing at the words.

"And that's a problem, why?" 

You bury your head in your hands. "Because I'm me and I'm certainly no one special, what if he's disappointed?" You groan, the dilemma churning your gut and making you feel like your breakfast could make a second appearance.

"Hey," Jimin scoots closer to you along the bench and throws an arm around your shoulder. "No best friend of mine gets away with speaking about herself like that. You are lovely, and if he thinks you're anything other than amazing, there's something wrong with him and he needs to be studied in a lab." 

You laugh in spite of yourself, hearing Jimin’s words rattle around in your brain, knowing that you should not be this hard on yourself. You lean into his snug embrace.

You open up Tumblr and stare at the conversation between you and @gameoverguk. Your favourite gaming blog you’ve followed for ages, by chance seeing your gaming fan art and following you back was one thing, but conversing with him and finding out that he also attended your school was a completely different matter. Trying to solve the equation of who this mysterious creator might be is harder than you thought. And the way he converses with you, so open and honest and sweet, that had to narrow it down surely?

Something slams into your back, pain immediately in its wake. You and Jimin turn to see the popular boy of your university, Jungkook, gawking at you and his best friend Taehyung in hysterics. 

Jimin looks down in the grass behind you at the offending apple and calls, “Hey, watch it guys.”

“Really sorry!” Jungkook calls over, a slight dusting of scarlet across his cheeks but looks like he’s also fighting a laugh. It burns you how someone so smug can still be so handsome, and you hate yourself for even thinking about him in any way other than the airhead jock that he is. 

Taehyung jogs over and picks it up, still somewhat amused. “What, didn’t your crystal ball tell you that was gonna happen?” He says to you, loud enough for everyone in a mile radius to hear.

You cringe inwardly, attempting to fight your embarrassment.

“Aren’t you supposed to be one of the top athletes in this university? And you can’t even catch an apple.” Jimin snarks in your defense.

His face drops as he looks like he’s about to take a step towards you both.

“Tae!” Jungkook calls, an air of command in his voice, breaking the tense air as he looks away from you ruefully. Walking off with Taehyung following, eating his apple and laughing between bites.

“Ignore them.” Jimin says sternly. “Speaking of, are you working tonight?”

Your face falls into an unamused expression, as if he even had to ask.

You were working so much you were almost taking residence at your step-mums 'magic shop', as everyone called it.

He smiles at you, his nose wrinkling, and you can’t help your face softening.

“Ok, ok, my bad. Can I swing by later? I need some more incense.”

You shrug, grabbing your bag and chucking it over your shoulder. “Sure. I’d be glad of the company to be honest.”

“Ooooh, maybe we could do a seance?” 

You glare at him and head off to class causing his melodious laugh to ring out around you.

Sitting in the bleachers after class, with your sketchpad and pencil, the perfect view of the city line and the departing sun staring back at you, you sketch away. The pencil etching fast across your paper as you manage to block out the sounds of the team practicing and their bodies crashing against each other.

Long after you've lost yourself in your landscape, fingers grey and shiny from shading, you neglect to hear some of the team members leaving, climbing over the seats and headed in your direction. That is until your pad is snatched from underneath you as you frantically grapple for it, without success.

"You know, this isn't where the nerds hang out." Taehyung smirks at his two other buddies, clearly impressed with himself.

You let out a bored sigh. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize you owned the bleachers." Your words drip with sarcasm. 

His face drops and a mean glare spreads across his features as he throws your drawing pad in the air. You watch helplessly as the pages flutter in the wind as it flies away and disappears under the stands. 

"Have a nice night." He says quietly, an attempt to be intimidating, as him and his friends leave.

Your veins alight with fury, hands balled into fists at your sides. You wanted to stamp your feet like a petulant child. This isn't fair. Why you?

It's only then you notice Jeon Jungkook standing on the field watching. Embarrassment suddenly extinguishes your angry flames as he breaks your gaze first, walking off under the bleachers. You grab your bag to leave for work before you suffer any more humiliation.

As you reach the last step you yelp with surprise as Jungkook appears suddenly in your view, you manage to steel yourself before tumbling into him.

You stare at him, wishing he'd get on with it and tease you so you can go...but it doesn't come. Instead he hands you your sketchpad, gently dusting off the pages.

You take it, a hesitant, "thanks," ghosts from your lips.

"I'm sorry about him." He says quietly.

You shrug. "Not your fault, I guess."

Seconds tick by as you both stare awkwardly at each other, unsure what else could be said.

"You're pretty. I-I mean, it-it's pretty." He stammers, tapping the unfinished sketch in your book. "You're very talented." 

Your cheeks flush an undignified fuchsia as you duck your head slightly, letting your hair hide you. "Thank you."

He offers you a weak smile before giving you a halfhearted wave and jogging off across the field, leaving you watching his back, perplexed at the exchange you've had.

You stare at your messages, every moment he can see you're online and not replying makes your cheeks flush crimson and makes your mind run frantic.

Meet me at the Happy Holidays dance.

Could you?

It’s the first holiday dance your university has put on--one you had no intention of going to, because you frankly didn't need the added teasing from the popular kids. It is a masquerade ball however, so no one had to know it was you, you could fall pleasantly under the radar.

Were you really considering this? 

What did you have to lose? You can hide behind the comfort of your mask. If he discovers it's you, it's his problem if he doesn't like that, Jimin is absolutely right.

Ok. Where will I find you?

You press send and chuck your phone down, throwing your head in your pillow to scream. Did you actually just do that!? No taking it back now, it's out there. 

When you hear your text tone sound you scramble quickly back to it.

By the old sundial outside. At 10.00?

You grin dorkishly at your phone, typing a quick reply.

Sure. See you then.

You call your number one speed dial, two rings in and Jimin's voice sounds. 

"I was just going to call you, how strange. Listen, do you remember that time I-?"

"I'm in need of some urgent assistance. I just agreed to go to the holiday dance!"

He cackles excitedly on the other end. "I'll be right over!"

As you step out of Jimin's car you have to lift your ice blue dress up to avoid the floor...and tripping. How Jimin pulled this costume together in time, you'll never know, he's taking that secret to the grave. 

You swallow the nervous lump in your throat and adjust your matching lace mask, making sure it's comfortable.

"Ok, go get him tiger." He roars, as he swipes a clawed hand in front of you.

You giggle at his silly antics and take a deep breath before giving him a final nod and heading into the dance.

From the moment you walk in, you want to go home. This is a bad idea. He won't be interested when he finds out it's really you.

You have no time to continue your anguished thoughts as you get swept up in the crowd, fighting your way through to grab a drink. Standing to the side and surveying everyone's costumes, noticing a lot of dark or bright colour choices, you being one of the only people in a pale colour, making you stand out more. Something you were definitely hoping to avoid.

A few songs later and the clock in the hall catches your eye, noticing you had fifteen minutes until you meet your mystery man.

You head outside, footsteps echoing along the cobbled floor, and see that the outside is empty save for a few smoking and talking. 

You get to the large, metal sundial and wait. Stomach churning from the butterflies that swarm wildly inside. 

"Blue hour artist?" You hear your Tumblr tag spoken behind you and freeze. 

You're about to meet him, come face to face with the person who understands you more than anyone, who opens up to you in ways most people wouldn't and who's creativity knows no bounds.

You turn slowly, not knowing who to expect but definitely not who you're faced with.

"Jeon Jungkook!? You're 'game over guk'?" You ask, your mouth popped open in shock.

He smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, "that's not fair, you're wearing a mask. How will I know who you are?" 

You stare at him, trying to find words to answer his question, but the fact that it's him stood before you blows you away.

How could this be? The person you've been talking to online is the complete opposite to Jungkook and yet, here he is, one and the same.

"You'll h-have to guess." You try to get yourself together.

His mouth stretches into a toothy smile. "Ok, how about we play '21 questions' to help me guess?"

You nod, playing with your fingernails out of nerves.

"Do you want to sit down?" He asks, looking over at one of the benches.

"Um, no, I'd rather walk, if you don't mind?" 

"Oh, sure." He agrees eagerly and you head off down the pathway around the building. 

A few awkward side glances between the two of you and he finally asks, "Do we have any classes together?"

"No." 

"Ok, narrows it down slightly."

You take this opportunity to look at what he's wearing and he's every part the Prince charming. In a white satin shirt, with light blue trousers and a one shoulder half capelet to match, complete with silver, trim detail. Surprisingly similar to your choice of dress, what a strange coincidence.

"You take art I assume?" He asks, into the comfortable silence.

You nod. "That's an obvious one." You refer to your Tumblr page full of your fan art and projects.

He smiles bashfully and your stomach flips at the sight, feeling like a true-life Disney princess with heart eyes and birds singing above your head.

"I don't know many girls in art." He admits,

 "Ok, what about outside uni, do you go to any popular hangouts?"

Your cheeks flush, knowing you're admitting how dorky and uncool you are. "Nope."

"Ok, harder than I thought." He laughs, revealing his perfect teeth again. "Do you have a job?"

Nodding again, you play with the hem of your lace sleeve, channeling your nerves into the action.

As you're about to answer, your heel gets stuck in between the paving stone, causing you to buckle. Panic strikes you. You cannot fall over and embarrass yourself! Not when finding out who you are will be embarrassing enough. Luckily, you steady yourself against a nearby lamppost before falling on your face but at the cost of leaving your shoe stuck in the ground.

You tuck your leg up under your dress, steadying yourself against the street light, directly underneath the assaulting brightness, illuminating you like a spotlight.

Jungkook rushes over to your lonesome blue stiletto and retrieves it before crouching on one knee in front of you.

You stare at him, eyes wide and alarmed by his sudden closeness as he holds out your shoe in the most sincere way.

You bring your foot down and arch it back into its rightful holster. As you do, his fingertips graze your ankle, sending a flush of heat cascading up your body and neck, stopping only at your hairline. 

He lingers there, looking up at you with huge doe eyes, but with a severe intensity you've never noticed from him before. 

His fingers skate up your leg slightly as he rises, sending a delicious shiver through you. His fingers tips hint at your hand, you yearn to reach out and hold it, as he stands mere centimeters away from you. His intoxicating scent swirling around you like your own personal hurricane, taking your composed state and tearing through it, leaving it whimpering weakly on the ground. His face is too close to yours and yet not close enough. You feel feverish from his proximity and yet you need him closer to sate your heat.

Your breast vibrates from the aggressive pounding of your heart. Having him here on his knees in front of you, something not even acceptable in your wildest dreams and yet, here he is. 

The person you've gotten to know so well, such a contrast to the person you've seen around campus. But then again, he seems to like the person he's gotten to know too, maybe he won't be as disappointed when he realises who you are? Maybe you can kid yourself into thinking that.

A chiming sounds in the distance, barely there and yet it creeps further into your subconscious.

"Your phone is ringing." He whispers, his breath tickling your face, as his eyes still blaze into yours.

'My phone. My phone? Oh, my phone!' Your muddled thoughts clear themselves enough for you to understand his words. You pull it out of your little silver handbag and see Jimin's number on screen.

"Hello?" You ask, staring dreamily at Jungkook who is rooted firmly in his spot.

"Ok, I apologise if you're throat-deep around prince charming’s dick but I really need to make it home before midnight so my dad doesn't turn me into a pumpkin...and by that I mean, pounded, pulped and pressed into pumpkin pie." 

You snap out of it suddenly, realising Jimin's words and not wanting him to get in trouble because of you. "Of course. I'm coming, right now."

Jungkook's eyes flit back to reality with a deep frown. His hand clasps yours as you hang up and tuck your phone back into your bag. Your legs, already moving towards the front entrance where he would be waiting.

"Wait," Jungkook's pleading pierces right into your chest, feeling your resolve bubble up to the surface, enticing you to stay and see where the night takes you. But you don't.

"I can't, I have to go." You say, gently slipping your hand from his and jogging elegantly to the front parking lot.

When you see Jimin's dads silver Rolls Royce, you're suddenly eager to get in and share your news.

"So...did you meet him!?" An excited Jimin shakes your arm as you close the door behind you.

"Yes. You will never guess who he is." You fasten your belt and Jimin pulls off quickly, both of you wincing as he narrowly misses a barrier post on the way out of the campus.

"Who?" 

You smile to yourself, heart fit to burst. "Jeon Jungkook."

Jimin's foot taps on the brakes, lurching you forward.

"I'm sorry. What?" He turns to you, eyes wider than you've ever seen them. "As in, popular boy, sex god Jungkook?"

You scoff. "Who told you he was a sex god?"

"I'm making assumptions. I'm sure you'll find out soon enough." He grins as he elbows you in the ribs and sets off driving you home, while excitement rapidly blooms inside you.

You dropped your necklace.

You read the words over and over, unsure what your response should be. You needed that necklace. The simple silver chain holding the tiny teardrop pearl. It was all you had left of your dad. When he died, your step-mother sold most of his things, including gifts he bought for you. This was your last, most cherished item. The only reason you were allowed to keep it is that you were wearing it at the time and you haven't taken it off since. Losing it had your chest aching. You stared at Jungkook's last message until sleep over took you.

Monday morning. Eyes gritty and burning, you wake to the sea of sleep trying to entice you back to its darkening depths but you fight your fluttering eyelids and get ready for a new day.

How are you going to look at Jungkook now? You should tell him who you are. Yes, you'll do that and get your necklace back and it'll be happily ever after. 

Only it won't.

From your experience happily ever after doesn't happen for most people, even accomplished, brilliant, beautiful people. You're entirely average and ordinary, why would it happen for you?

By the time you get to campus, your manic mind has been changed numerous times. You decide to wait until you see him, which you spend every moment of your arrival scanning the faces that pass you.

"Hey, hey, Jelly Bean. Looking for me?" Jimin's cheerful face comes into full view, distracting you.

He's clearly unimpressed with whatever expression you're portraying currently, as he pouts and turns to the sea of faces. "Clearly, I no longer matter, now you've got big dick Jungkook."

You hush him loudly, looking around to ensure there were no listening ears. "Firstly, I'm begging you, stop talking about his dick and secondly, stop being stupid."

He laughs at your stressed rant. "Ok, ok, jeez. Is he meeting you this morning?"

Your body tenses, knowing, already hearing the lecture he's about to scold you with.

"You didn't tell him, did you? He still has no idea it's you!?" He sighs, throwing his hands in the air dramatically, typical Jimin fashion. "I swear to god...If you don't tell him, I will."

Your head snaps over to him as you walk side by side into the building, glaring menacingly in his direction. "You wouldn't dare."

He shrugs. "Try me, scaredy cat."

You huff and scrub at your tired eyes. "Let me just get through my classes then we shall discuss this."

He laughs as he tussles your hair and heads off in the opposite direction.

Your day passes fairly quickly, even though your struggle to stay awake during lectures only grows.

You do not see Jungkook, which is not unusual as you're not even in the same wings of the building most of the time.

Jimin's frantic waving has you puzzled as a deep frown creases your brow as you walk towards him, his jumping and pointing most unusual. It's only when you see a set of hands directly in front of you and feel your necklace land on your chest as it's draped across your collar bones, that you stop in your tracks. 

Those hands, warm at the back of your neck and a mouth next to your ear saying, "I told you I'd look after it and return it." Unmistakably Jungkook's voice whispers in your ear making you quiver.

When his hands are gone you look down and find relief washing over you with the familiar feel of your necklace, having felt bare and empty without it.

"Why didn't you reply to my messages?" He asks, stepping in front of you with a big bunny smile.

Wide eyed with shock, your mouth gapes open with the slow realization that he is, in fact, talking to you. "How-how did you…" Words fail you as you frantically think of any way you might have let slip your identity but coming up empty.

"How did I know it was you?" He asks, mouth pulled on one side in a smile. "When you dropped your necklace as you left the dance, I recognized it instantly. "

"Wh-what?" You squeak out. You attempt to swallow your confusion enough to form a coherent sentence. "On what planet would someone like you notice anything about someone like me."

A look of hurt flashes across his face, almost as if you'd slapped him as he takes a step towards you, a hair's width away now. "How could I not notice you? You're beautiful and smart, you don't follow the crowd and you're kind to everyone, I've noticed everything the last two years. I've just never spoken to you properly because….well...what do I have to offer someone like you, with endless talents and interests, a charming personality to boot and just when I think that's all there is, I discover something else about you. I'm just the school jock, popularity gets me opportunities, I don't have to work hard for anything...I feel...inferior to you. Worthless."

Your heart aches, hearing the words you feel escaping his mouth. How could that be possible? How on earth could he be so utterly mistaken, so completely wrong about himself?

"But gameoverguk is nothing like that person you're describing. If that's truly who you are?" You question quietly.

He nods, placing a finger under your chin and tilting your head up to him.

"Hi, I'm Jeon Jungkook, I'm a gamer geek, I'm good at sports, I enjoy bike rides on the weekend and finding new food spots and I'd really like to take you out sometime...if you'll let me."

You feel your lips stretch into an undeniable grin. "Nice to finally meet you Jungkook. I'd love to."

As you aim the plastic machine gun, keeping it steady in your armpit and pointed towards the screen, you and Jungkook race through the game, taking down your enemies at every chance. When your team name, "Blue Hour Gamer" flashes in neon letters on screen as the winners, your hollering and hooting fill the arcade. 

You don't even care that people are watching, not when you jump up and high five each other or when that high five turns into a hug, or when that hug very quickly turns into a kiss. You don't care.

You pull away quickly, embarrassment finding its way to dust your cheeks scarlet. Until you feel his hand press your lower back to him, your bodies crushing together and moving in perfect sync, making their own rhythm and inviting you to sing with it.

Heat blazes inside you like a wildfire, capturing everything else in its path and turning into thoughtless ash in the wind. Nothing else mattered, just him, his lips against yours, his hands on your skin, caressing so gently and yet setting your skin aflame.

Before you knew it, you were at his small, studio apartment, realising you had no clue he lived alone but thankful for that just the same.

When your back finds the bed, you sink into it, disappearing into a cloud of euphoria as he roams your body, slow and meaningful. Every touch makes you feel things you never have before, and every movement brings you closer to the edge of the precipice. 

The way his mouth feels on you as he explores your body sends sparks of electricity racing through you. The way he feels inside you with each perfect, controlled movement lights you up like the sunrise after dark, warming you with its rays as you stare off the cliff edge and brace yourself for the impact. His hand caresses your cheek as he looks deeply into your eyes, something so sweet and pure in the action that your chest swells with emotion. His forehead touches yours as he moves in perfect time with your pounding heart. Suddenly you're falling, everything going past in a rush before crashing onto a sea of ecstasy, writhing and moaning until your climax subsides and his has joined in unison.

A tender kiss on your head, his arm winding around you, pulling you to him and encasing you in the perfect safety net is enough. Maybe he'll be your happily ever after, after all.

[05aaphrodite]

I can't let you escape, not even to your own world

Pairings:Yandere! Venti x reader

Warnings:4th wall breaking,Slight crack fic,Reader death

(Plz don't let my friends see this lmao)

______________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_______________

I chug all of my soda then slam it on the table "Aight, let's go farm for Venti's talent mats" I grabbed my controller then push the left joystick forward, after all of these grinding... I finally manage to get him on his rerun, I was skeptical that he would come home but surprisingly, I did a single pull then I got him, I'm grateful that I got my dream team, Xiao,Diluc,Venti,Bennett I will be saving for a Klee rerun.

My phone beeped a notification, I peek at it and it's my friend gc, I put down my controller then grab my phone

(A/n: Btw, the gc is based of my friend gc lol)

❀Genshin Gang❀

Diluc's hairtie

Y'ALL GUESS WHAT??

Albedo simp

OMGGGGGG CONGRATS BHIEEE

E_supremacy

CONGRATSSSSS

Xiao come home plz

I TOLD YA, YOU WILL GET HIM

Ventea

Hope all😭😭

VENTI CAME HOME

BROOOO CONGRATS OMG

ZHONGLI COME HOME

JK JK CONGRATS TOO

Diluc's hairtie

I was losing hope until I wished one more time😭

ZHONGLI COME HOME

CONGRATSSSS AGAIN, AND TO Y/N, BOTH OF YOU GOT VENTI

VENTI CAME HOME

THANKS PALL

E_supremacy 

Now my Zhongli is happy :D

Diluc's hairtie

YESSES

A smile plastered on my face, I'm so happy for them! My attention was stolen when Venti decides to say his idle line "Come on Traveler, let's go! The world is full of lost ballads just waiting to be rediscovered." I put my phone down then grab my controller again "Ok ok, I will pay attention to you now" I chuckled humorously "Good! Just don't make me murder your friends."

The moment he said that line, my thumb suddenly stopped pushing the joystick, did he just..... did I just heard that right? Murder... your friends? What does he mean by that? Someone never mentioned this voiceline of his, I should check the character icon. I clicked on the character icon then proceed to his voicelines, I checked every details but I can't seem to find it, maybe it's a bug? The fact that I was talking to my friends.... maybe Mihoyo intended it?

I shrugged my shoulders then continue to the domain to farm for talent materials. After countless of grinding, I started to have fun with his wind current while harassing random hilichurls for fun, I made him sat at the Barbatos statue "You finally came home..." I smiled as I touch the screen, Venti looked at the camera then smiled "That's so cute! He smiles when he looks at at camera!" I awed, I continue to fawn over him.

⌣ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ⌣⌣ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ⌣

I woke up by the sound of my ps4 opening, the bright light illuminated my body, and to my surprise, my ps4 opened by itself "What the fuck?" I stood up from the bed then went to investigate it. The creepiest thing is that Venti is the only one in my party, and he is sitting at barbatos' hands, and then I remembered the hacked accounts in genshin, this could be a sign..

I hurriedly grab my controller then check my characters, all of them were Venti! I can't find a single character other than him! What's going on!? I check my weapons but they are okay, I checked my profile and nothing changed but my icon was set to Venti, i checked my primogems and fate but nothing changed, in fear of getting hacked, I contacted Mihoyo for customer support, I can't lose Xiao, I whaled for him! I restarted my ps4 then go back to sleep, in hopes that it will be resolved next morning.

I rubbed my eyes then stretch my arms wide, I look at my ps4 then my phone, I grab my phone then text on the gc

❀Genshin Gang❀

VENTI CAME HOME

Guyssss, something weird happened yesterday 

ZHONGLI COME HOME

Why?

VENTI CAME HOME

My ps4 opened by itself and Venti was the only one in my party, I tried to change my party set back to normal but all of them were Venti

Albedo simp

Welp, sounds like a bug

But hey, freemogems :D

VENTI CAME HOME

My weapons and primogems were untouched but the weird thing is that my character icon is set to Venti, but I didn't change it

This is like a Ddlc reference lmaooo

Xiao come home plz

Aight, time to report to Mihoyo for free 600 primogems 

E_supremacy

Be careful, maybe you're getting hacked? You should change your password incase

VENTI CAME HOME

Yep bro, I will change it

I put my phone down then open my ps4, I prayed to myself that everything is back to normal. Happiness washed over me when I saw that my original party is deployed "must've been a crazy bug.." I chuckled, I change my icon back to Xiao then continue with the grinding "Ooohhh timmie's birds" I smirked, I switched to Xiao then climb the nearest cliff, I glide then plunge on the birds "Free fowls!!" I exclaimed then claim the fowls, my character suddenly switched  back to Venti, I didn't even press anything other than claim fowls "You know I'm getting impatient.." Venti said, again this was not even in his voice lines, then I notice that something is odd with my venti, he kept saying weird lines everytime my attention is drifted to somewhere else, could it be Mihoyo's doings? I hope so, I don't want a ddlc fiasco again.

After farming for his ascension materials, I quit genshin then read some fanfictions in Tumblr, I came across a Kaeya fanfic then proceed to read the contents. All of a sudden, my ps4's screen started to distort, my eyes widened at the sight of it, then a bright light surrounded me, making my head dizzy

.

.

.

. 

"Traveler, you're awake" I woke up to a familiar voice reaching my ears, I blinked my eyes slowly to realize that I'm not in my room, where am I? My jaw dropped when the person I saw in my eyes is none other Venti, this is impossible! He's not real! "Venti...?" I tilt my head in confusion, there's no way this is real.... this must be a dream! The bard showed a genuine smile before putting down his lyre "I'm happy that you pulled for me, I will go crazy if you pulled for him instead, hehe." Venti had a patronizing smile after that, my eyes widened as I sat up "Venti? There's no way that you're real!" I said, feeling my empty pockets, Venti sighed as he stood up, he had his lyre in his hand "Come on Traveler, let's go celebrate the windblume festival." the God reached out his hand, I was reluctant to respond to his offer, he seems a bit suspicious to me, considering my ps4 sucked me in Teyvat. Not to mention, he said these weird lines when I was communicating with my friends, and my controller would move on its own when I'm playing another character "What are you waiting for?" A smile was om his lips, I took his hand then stood up "Ok, let's go." Venti giggled as he led me in Mondstadt, I gaze behind to see the Vennessa tree.

No way.... all of this seemed real... the designs.... the npcs.... all of them are accurate! The only difference is that I don't see control menu "Isn't it beautiful? Traveler?" Venti turned to me, I nodded with hesitant. As my eyes scanned the whole city, Fischl and Bennett were talking to each other, Kaeya,Rosaria, and Diluc at the same table, although Diluc seems poker faced, Barbara was performing for the crowd, Jean and Lisa are eating together, Albedo,Sucrose, and Timaeus are experimenting,Amber is seen gliding, everything seemed lively more than the actual game.... "Come on Traveler!" The bard took my hand without giving me time to consent.

The rustling sounds of the leaves snap me back to reality, it still feels like a dream, did Mihoyo said something about this? The atmosphere is so lively and different "Uh oh woahhh!! Watch out!" Amber then crashed into Noelle, I giggled slightly then turn to the bard who was playing the lyre for a small crowd, as the sweet melodious tone halt to stop, the crowd clapped their hands, I smiled a little bit as I made my way towards him "Did you like it?" Venti inquired, I nodded then smiled, the bard chuckled as he took my hand then led me somewhere.

I realized we were getting far away from the festival, perturbation washed over me "Venti.... where are we going?" sweat dropped on my temples, Venti looked at me with a menacing smile "Somewhere..." 

He led me to starsnatch cliff, the breeze of the wind soothes my nostrils, I can't believe all of these are real.... Venti picked a Cecilia flower then hand it to me, I narrowed my eyes "Are you really.... real?" I gaze at his eyes 

"I'm aware that all of us are just video game characters, that's why I'm a God"

My eyes widened as he said that, he tucked the cecilia behind my ear "Y/n, will you stay here forever..?" The bard took both of my hands, his puppy eyes gleaming, I do want to visit Genshin.... but that does not mean I will abandon my world 

"Venti.... I have my friends and family there..." I said, I averted my gaze to the floor, his grip on me got tighter "Y/n, your world does not need you" his tone was a mix of devastate and anger "All you need is me, you belong here" 

My eyebrows furrowed, what does he mean by that!? "No! I can't just leave everyone! My friends care about me!"  I screamed in frustration. He then uses his anemo powers on me that sent me flying through the air "Arghh! Let me go!!" I desperately try to break free

"Don't you see that I love you? I don't like it when you control me everyday" Venti was feigning sadness on his tone 

"Because you're never real!" I retorted back, a grin was marked on his face "I ever regret pulling for you!" I yelled. The bard went closer then cup my cheeks "So? You already got me, you did this to yourself" then his hands swayed, causing me to fall of the cliff, my life flashed before me, this is it....

"May your soul rest in this game"

[caiuscassiuss]

oppa! | ot7 (prologue)

Description: Being raised by a caring yet distant father, a close, tight-knit family is the one thing you have craved in your short life. After your adventurer father remarries a rich woman, you’re stuck with seven new brothers. Seven very hot, very different men. 

This is not what you meant by family.

(Based on the anime and game Brother’s Conflict, but with a twist.)

Prologue

Genre: Fluff | romance | later angst and smut. PG

WC: 2k

Warnings: For this chapter, none other than cursing.

(After some readers wanted me to post Oppa! on Tumblr, I have delivered! I really hope y’all like this haha)

[ The prologue delivers hints on who each brother will be. These hints will be bolded. Some will be very apparent, some will not. ]

Rubbing your head, your eyes glazed over the notes you took from yesterday’s lecture in preparation for today. Were you on drugs when you wrote these? It looked like chicken scratch. Was that drool in the corner?

Your ears perked up at the strains of loud music coming out of your friend’s Airpods. Hyerim, your closest friend at University, seemed oblivious as she bopped her head to the hard beat. Several classmates around the lecture hall noticed too, yet weren’t as accommodating as you and sent judgemental looks towards Hyerim.

“Hyerim,” you whispered, aware that class was starting in a few minutes. She didn’t respond, still nodding along to the music.

Pursing your lips, you plucked the small pod out of her ear. “Hyerim, your music—”

She gasped, eyes lighting up in excitement. “You liked it? Okay, so I was listening to this random rapper on SoundCloud—”

“Your music's too loud —” you hissed.

“—but the real feature is the producer, who made this beat. His name is Yoongi—” Hyerim continued on obviously, caught up in her own world.

“—that’s lovely, but can you turn your music down—” you pestered, looking around worriedly.

“—but his producer name is Gloss and he’s so talented and hot and his voice —”

Seeing the majority of the seats in the hall being filled up, you clamped your palm over her lips. She let out a whimper, finely shaped brows frowning at you.

“Have you not noticed the five separate glares you are currently getting at this moment?” you said between gritted teeth, enunciating each constant hard. You stared down each person around you who was giving Hyerim looks and, embarrassed, they averted their eyes and busied themselves with something.

“Oh wait, what?” Hyerim exclaimed. Closing a fist over her AirPod, the music continued and her eyes widened as she realized how high she had turned up the volume.

Hyerim turned to the person on her other side. “I am so sorry,” she said apologetically, the random student smiling awkwardly in acceptance.

Rolling your eyes with an unbidden smile poking at the edge of your lips, you turned back to the disaster of your notes. How were you supposed to understand this lecture when you barely wrapped your head around the last one? However, you honed in on your Calculus woes to ignore how your phone burned in your pocket and the latest text you got from your father...

So focused on your lamentation, you didn’t notice the boy behind you clear his throat. Nor did you notice the second or third time he did, each one getting progressively louder. As you attempted to retrace the argument on your paper, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Excuse me?”

Whipping your head around, you craned your neck upwards to see where the tap had come from. To your surprise, you saw a very cute-looking boy, bangs pulled into a top knot, smiling apologetically at you from behind you.

“Hi! Yeah, do you need anything?” you smiled.

A blush rose on his chiseled cheekbones and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m super sorry to bother you about this, but I dropped my charger right next to your chair. I- uh, would you mind—?”

“Of course! No worries, it happens,” you comforted, bending down to get the coiled white wire from where your bag sat. “Here you go.”

He got up from his seat to hunch over the lecture hall desk to meet you in the middle. You eyed the large difference between each of your hands’ as you handed back the charger, as well as how huge his shoulders seemed up close.

“T-Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” you replied, turning around to open your laptop.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hyerim’s mouth partially open in disbelief.

“You need something?” you prodded.

“I—” she took a glance at the boy behind you, as if confirming something— “I’ll tell you later.”

Shrugging, you zeroed in at the lecturer at the front of the hall.

“Alright, so what was that about?”

Your Calculus lecture had just ended, and the two of you were in the mob of students leaving the lecture halls to get to lunch.

Hyerim looked surreptitiously around, black bangs swishing around her face. She leaned in like she was about to share the juiciest piece of gossip, and you unconsciously did so too.

“Did you know who that is?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

You felt your forehead crease and you gave her a look. “No, I did not.”

“Really?!” Hyerim pitched her voice high in disbelief.

You gave her a dry look.

It was her turn to roll her eyes. “Sometimes, I swear you’re in your own world, Y/N.”

Incredulous, you opened your mouth to argue but she waved a hand in front of you.

“That was Jeon Jungkook, Y/N! How do you not know him?”

“Oh yeah,” you snapped your fingers. “He’s that Streamer dude, right? He games and shit.”

Hyerim nodded slowly.

However, you frowned. “I heard he was intimidating and cold and stuff. Are you sure that was him? Charger boy was super nice.”

“That’s the point! It was Jung Jungkook and I have never seen him acting this soft. What did you do, ma’am? Snap him? Flash him?”

“Who do you think I am?” you sputtered. “All I was doing was thinking about how much I hated Calculus, not— not seducing someone!”

Your friend gave you a suspicious look, but decided to let go of the topic. Shaking your head, you walked past the gates of Yonsei university and into the city proper on the lookout for your favorite food place. The beeping of horns, buzzing chatter, and the small of smog filled the air as you zig-zagged between side streets to avoid busy roads.

“Excuse me,” you muttered as you pushed your way through a mob of women all entranced by something above you. Since they were not moving, you huffed and decided to see what was worth all the hype.

It was a huge, flashing LED billboard that was the central focus of the square. On it, a very sensuous looking man with blond hair and a velvet, tight-fitting suit doing some very slick moves in a dark concert hall.

Happy Birthday Jimin! It read in bright white font.

“Wah, oppa is so handsome!” a woman, who must’ve been 5 years older than the man on the screen squealed behind her white medical mask. “I’m so glad our ad turned out well.”

Her friends agreed and ooh and aahed along with her. You turned around to see if Hyerim was following you but she stood, entranced, with the mob of women on the sidewalk.

“You can thirst over him later, preferably when I am well fed,” you snapped irritably, pulling at the pink flowy material of her blouse.

She pouted but acquiesced, taking your hand as you dragged her though the intersection. All you were focused on were some good dumplings, after the mental aerobotics Calculus had forced on you and the emotional stress your father was putting you through. As you turned the corner, you breathed a sigh of relief as you saw no line.

Nestled between a large office building and a parking deck, this tiny Japanese restaurant was a favorite among Uni students for its cheap prices and good food. You usually had to arrive here early to beat the line of students and office workers that gathered here for their dinner breaks.

The cute sign that said Umaido flashed brightly above your head as you entered the restaurant. To the side of the main sigh, a smaller print reading “by the RM Group” glowed, subdued.

Waving over a pimply teen, you ordered two servings of gyoza and waited for Hyerim. She ordered a very conservative meal of sushi and some salad, and you both watched the waiter retreat. Something glossy caught the attention of your eye, and you saw some magazines on the shelf next to your head. The main one in the middle, which looked like a new age artsy publication with a cult following, was simply titled with a white V at the bottom corner.

Like a robot that was powered off, you collapsed in your seat and put your head in your hands. You really did not want to look at your phone.

“Was Calculus really that bad?” Hyerim winced in sympathy, neatly patting your head.

“It isn’t Calc,” you mumbled. “It’s Dad.”

Her expression turned down even more. “What happened?”

Lifting your head from your arms, you propped your chin on your palm and looked out the window. “You know, you’d expect for someone to give you important news in person or at least over a phone call, right?”

“Yeah?” Hyerim asked, lips pursed in confusion.

“Like, if you got remarried or something , you would at least tell your loved ones in person or at least over the phone, right ?”

“... Shit, Y/N.”

Fumbling for your phone in your bag, you ignored the notifications and pulled up your latest conversation. “Look what he texted me this morning!”

Hyerim took your phone and scrolled through it with a manicured fingernail.

Dad : I wish I could call you, but I’m somewhere with limited service.

Dad : I just wanted to let you know I got remarried to this amazing woman, Kim Seoyeon, a few days ago. We met and just clicked, something I haven’t felt since your mom.

Dad : She has seven sons, all of them are grown up. I’m worried about you living on your own, so I’d like you to move in with them. Details coming soon. Love you.

Hyerim was speechless, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I’m sorry, what?”

“My dad has gotten spontaneously remarried to some random woman and now wants me to move in with her sons. Like, geez, it’s not like life changing news was delivered to me in less than a hundred words!” you hissed, voice getting higher and tinged with a bit of hysteria.

“Your dad sucks,” Hyerim pronounced, taking a pointed sip of her iced water. “Seriously.”

“Hey, my dad is not that bad,” you defended. “It’s just… he’s a bit distant. Absent-minded. But he’s cared for me in the best way he could.”

“You and I have very different definitions of what constitutes good parenting, Y/N. This man left you largely on your own since you were five, and now he gets worried about you living on your own? Something's not right,” Hyerim retorted.

Ignoring her in favor of the food that arrived, you practically inhaled twelve of the fried gyoza. Rolling her eyes at your typical running-away behavior, she primly dipped a piece of sashimi in soy sauce and took a dainty bite.

“So? What’s the plan? Are you going to stage a rebellion and stay in your apartment, or go stay with some random men?”

Your response was cut off as cheers broke out from the corner of the restaurant, where a large group of men and women were huddled together.

“Cheers to our National win!” a man announced, his face already a bit flushed. “To Neuron!”

“To Neuron!” the group cheered loudly, and lifted up their shot glasses in celebration.

“To our leader, J-Hope!” the same man pronounced brightly, some sake sloshing over the tip of his cup.

“Hoseok!” the group whooped louder, more rounds going around.

As their cheers quieted down, you turned back to Hyerim. “I don’t know. I think I’ll decide when I meet them. They could either all be idiots or they could be chill. I really hope for the latter.”

“Good plan, good plan.”

An awkward silence permeated the booth since both of you were at a loss to say something.

“Onto lighter things, “ Hyerim forced out brightly, clapping her hands. “Let me tell you about my younger brother’s really hot doctor. His name is Dr. Kim and he’s tall and…”

As Hyerim continued to babble on about the tall, handsome pediatric doctor, you felt a buzz in your pocket.

Dad: Their address is 111 Hannam-dong, Yongsan-su

Dad: They’re ready for you.

Can you guess who each stepbrother is and what they do? Comment below!!

Arc 1: Stepbrother Introductions will be released on February 15th at 8pm ET. It’s about ~15k words of getting to know these boys. Please look out for it!

[deliciousangelfestival]

Wicked Romance

Chapter 1

Character: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve was hoping to meet the right one until he met her. But is he ready to be with her? He thought his life already dark because of his job. He wouldn’t able to find a woman that strong enough to face the hardship to stand beside him. Turn out his life is nothing compared to her. 

Warning: Maybe bad writing? Hehehe forgive me. This is my first time write and posting my own fan fiction on tumblr.

############

If an outsider sees Steve, he got everything: looks, money, status. But for him, he lacks one thing; the right person to stand beside him.  

But let’s talk about how Steve became the new mob leader.

Steve got raised by his mother Sarah Rogers, it was until he retired from the military he reconnected with his father again. 

He thought his father, Joseph Rogers owns a security firm every time he visits him when he was a kid after his parents divorced. Until he reaches a certain age he realized his father actually is a mob boss. He found his childhood friend Bucky, they went to the army together, also working with his father after he got into an accident that cost his left arm. 

He owes it to his father, but Joseph doesn’t need his son to pay his debt. He only wanted his son to stay with him. Joseph has everything, but he missing two things; his lovely wife and his son. 

Joseph loves Sarah, but he forgot she doesn’t come from a mobster background. When they got married, she was overwhelmed. Looking at her husband coming home with blood on his hands or they need to stay at the safe house when she was 8 months pregnant and when Steve was baby the rival gang tried to hurt her and their son. 

Sarah admitted to Joseph that she couldn’t live like this. In the end, she asks to separated but they never divorced. Joseph never sends the document to the court. 

When Joseph retired, he decided to be honest. He went to chase his wife again. With a lot of effort the couple reunited again.

Their love story was so sweet that could make Steve’s teeth hurt. Joseph appointed Steve as the new leader while he enjoys his second honeymoon with his wife. 

It’s been 5 years since Steve became the new mob boss, now he’s waiting for the one that could help him write a sweet story like his parents. 

## 

Right now around lunchtime at the fancy that owned by Rogers. Steve and others like Bucky and Sam are sitting at the bar. While Pietro is the bartender serving their drinks. 

It's a usual day for them but it's a little bit different with Steve this time.

Steve head not looking at his food because notices someone seating near the window. She wearing a dress, not too sexy but he could see her legs. She is completely different from a woman who dressed less to get his attention. The reason is simple Steve is an attractive man, tall, broad shoulder, the expensive three-piece suit that wraps his muscles. He only sits for 3 minutes, few girls try to seduce him but he politely or in a sarcastic way to shoo them. 

And the girl who he watched for a while won’t budge to turned around. It poked his ego a little bit. He quite used to with the flirt and attention. 

“You still staring at her.”

Bucky’s words made Steve snap up from his trance. 

Steve shook his head, he couldn’t help it because he wants to see the woman face who sitting alone. 

“Pfft.”

Someone who holds his laughter. Three of them turn their gaze towards the bartender served their drink. 

“Something funny Pietro?” Steve raised his eyebrows. 

“I’m just surprised my boss lose his game before approaching Miss Lilly.”

Steve tilts his head “You knew her name?”

Pietro nodded while whipping the glass with cloth “Yup, the gorgeous lady that always left a big tip.” 

“She has become a regular?” Sam asks surprised. 

“Perhaps, it’s difficult to forget her since the first time she came here.” Pietro is a sucker for a beautiful woman. 

He put the clean glass on the shelf “The day she came here also the first day Peter Peter start his job.”

The alpha male grunted when Parker’s name mentioned. That kid is troublesome. He always late for his job and clumsy, but he’s the best chef assistant according to Wanda who the head chef at the restaurant. 

“So she’s been our customer for 5 months. How come we never notice her?” Sam whispered asking. They always come here every day for lunch and dinner. 

Pietro raised his shoulder “Usually she only stays for 10 minutes after buying one drink. Then she left. This is the first time she asks for a table.” 

After hearing the info from Pietro, Steve looking at her back once again. 

“Steve, if you don’t talk to her I will,” Sam said while moving from his seat. 

Steve stop Sam by grabbing his shoulder “I didn’t say I don’t want to.”

“Go get her punk.” Bucky raised his fist.

Steve nodded, he walks closer towards her table, he doesn’t understand why his heart beating so fast. 

He already in his game, using his usual pick-up line and smile, but before his foot stops at her table, she turns her head towards him. 

It felt like a slow-motion when he saw her looking at him. 

The first moment he looked at her eyes, somehow the time stop and world in only both of them. 

She looks at him with a friendly smile. ‘Her eyes,’ he couldn’t look away. 

“Hi…” He couldn’t believe he almost squeaked his voice. Steve could feel his face turn red like tomatoes. How he wishes, the situation could change.

‘BANG’

The loud sound came from the gun sound. The door abruptly opened by a bunch of guys who wear suits, some of them holding guns, and baseball bat, and the one who leads them is Brock Rumlow. 

Steve cursed, because of the annoying newcomer, he already lost the moment with her. But partly he blamed himself, earlier he wished to change the situation. Be careful what you wished for.

It must be his rival gang who crash his business again. This is the third time in one month. Since Brock became the new head after Pierce died. 

“Damn it.” He saw Bucky and Sam already start kicking and punching. 

He turned at her, he looks at her with puppy eyes “Forgive me for today’s distraction. You don’t have to pay. It’s free.”

Before she could reply, one guy holding a baseball bat, and swing at Steve but he able to stop it. 

“Everyone leave this place !!!” He screamed his lungs out to alarm the guest who still shocked. All of them ran to save their lives. 

Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Pietro busy fighting their rival. 

No wonder why he had bad feelings, today seems nothing could go wrong. He knew something bad will happen. Turn out it’s Rumlow. 

“What do you want Rumlow?” Steve hissed at the uninvited guest.

Brock shrugged his shoulder “Oh nothing, I just want to say hi to my rival, since I became the boss now.”

‘Because of that reason?’ Steve inwardly thought. But he knew why Rumlow did this, he want everyone to know his name since he recently got this position. And this bastard choose his place at the wrong time and the wrong place.

Both of them punches at each other and destroyed the furniture.

Brock always sneaky, he prepares a hidden knife under his sleeves aka phantom blade. 

He succeeded stab Steve’s shoulder. 

“Urgh.” But because of his muscles, it didn’t go that deep. 

Brock brings Steve to his shoulder and throws him to the ground. 

Steve landed on the ground while Brock put on a mocking smile looking down at him. 

“Boys~”

The seductive voice made both of them turn to see who it was. 

Steve widened his eyes when he saw the girl who took his breath away standing in front of them. 

When she stood, he could see she’s wearing a skirt that has a high cut on her left thigh. Steve and Brock were taken aback because under the fabric there’s a belt dagger. 

She slightly pouted which made Steve thought for a second she looks adorable. But what the hell is she doing here when he already told everyone to leave this place.

She put her right hand on her left chest “It breaks my heart seeing my favorite restaurant destroyed like this.”

Steve somehow felt happy when he knew she like his work.

She grabs the dagger and throws it to Steve. 

“I’m lending it to you.” She winked at him, and turn around to grab her coat. She headed to the exit door, easily avoided the fight.

“That’s one hot lady right there.” 

“Yeah, she is.”  Steve took the chance to give a butthead towards Brock. He doesn’t want this jerk to look at his ‘future date’. 

Brock screamed while holding his broken nose “That’s was low, I was distracted.”

“Let’s get this over with. I can’t do this all day.” Steve finally let out his rage towards Rumlow. 

####

Their fight is done with the result Steve side who won. 

“I’ll get you next time,” Brock screamed angrily, his fingers broken by Steve. He got carried by the paramedic. 

Steve wiped his bloody nose with a cloth while Bruce pressing his shoulder “Yeah yeah, just not in this place again.” He answered lazily. 

He sighed because he’s getting tired of Rumlow childish fight. After his wound got treated by Bruce, Steve went back into the restaurant. 

What he saw is a broken window, table, the custom leather chair that imported from Italy also ruined. There will be one person who will be crazy over this, Natasha who also his accountant, and Bucky’s wife. 

His shoes step on the broken glass, his eyes locking to the table where she sat. 

When he arrived he saw the book she read. Steve notice there is a bookmark inside of it. He doesn’t want to touch her touch without permission but he eager wants to see what inside. 

Steve put his hand on his mouth and gasped “Oh f**k!”

“Language you punk!” Bucky and Sam appear from behind. Their face and hands also bruised because of the short fight. 

“What’s wrong?”

They got no answer from Steve. He look like a statue still looking at his hands.

Bucky and Sam glanced at the bookmark on Steve’s hand. Both of them smirked.

’When the restaurant re-open, text me: (646)-xxxxxxxx’

Steve’s mind went back to the first time he saw her face and that beautiful smile, then the way she’s not afraid of the craziness that happens today, and she lent him a dagger so he can win. 

He didn’t think it wasn’t a thing, but it happened to him. 

He fell in love at the first sight. 

“We totally lose him.” Sam waves his hand in front of Steve’s eyes. 

They could see Steve on cloud nine right now. 

“Good for him, maybe he could move on this time,” Bucky murmured. 

Sam pointed one critical point “But first of all, we need to tell your wife about today.” 

Bucky sighed “That’s the difficult part.” 

While his friends busy thinking about how to coaxing Natasha so she won’t stun them with the lecture that could last for the whole day and make their ear hurts, Steve is planning how to renovate the restaurant fast so he could text her.

>>>CHAPTER 2

Taglist:

@cloudystevie​

[bisqueri]

Tubbo will NOT be the next Schlatt and Tommy will NOT become the next Wilbur

(This is the text form version of my video where I talked about my own idea and stuff. The video:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LgZMFkdUTiY)

Salutations! I will be talking about my thoughts/general ideas about Villaininnit and Villain!Tubbo. 

Do I personally think that Villaininnit and Villain!Tubbo will happen? As of 12/17/20, not too likely for Tommy, because he has Technoblade backing him up and his moral compass has still not misaligned, but the possibility of it for the future is still there. Tubbo on the other hand… Oh I am mostly certainly sure, because he is already on the path to Villainy.

(Continuation below because it’s kind of long)

Now let’s start with the whole Tubbo-Tommy-Schlat- Wilburt connection. What is this connection? This is the idea that as the story progresses Tubbo will grow to become more like Schlatt and Tommy will grow to become more like Wilbur. Their predecessors. This idea has grown in popularity specifically in the Tumblr side of things due to the Exile arc. In this arc Tubbo goes against his cabinet and exiles Tommy. During this exile Tommy is slowly going off of the deep end. Several characters in canon, also pointed this idea out especially in the iconic line of “As long as I won’t become the next Schlatt, you can’t become the next Wilbur”.

What do I personally think of this connection? I think I can see why it’s so popular, not only is it backed up by canon lines by the characters, but the imagery of Tubbo with horns and Tommy with Wil’s coat is simply spectacular. However, I’m thinking of a different idea, because I think this whole connection is not that strong.

I’ll explain why. Tommy and Wilbur, though the connection is quite stronger than Tubbo and Schlatt I feel still doesn’t work that well.What separates them the most is their reaction to being exiled. Wilbur was filled with anger, he used that anger to start a new movement to save his country back with pride. He started clearing and building a new home the moment he got exiled. Tommy, on the other hand, is distraught and hesitant to start anew. He’s not angry, he’s frustrated.  

With the ominous message from the Exile arc about how people only respect him when he has power. Tommy will most likely have a power hungry arc in the future. Where he will do anything to get what he wants, different from Wilbur’s goal of destroying the thing he cannot have in what I assume is his miserable attempt to preserve it’s essence. To save L’manburge from Jschlatt

Tommy’s descent in the exile arc differs from Wilbur, Wilbur was more manipulative. Taunting Tommy on how he’ll never be president. While Tommy’s descent was filled with violence as seen with his actions towards Techno and JackManifold. Kinda like how Schaltt was with his old cabinet who was trying to help him.

The Tubbo and Schlatt connection, I think is way off. The problem here is that Tubbo said it himself, he doesn’t want power he doesn’t want control he wants what’s the best for New L’manburg. You can’t connect them on a goal oriented level. because Schlatt wants power. Schlatt simply does what he thinks is the best for himself.

The motivations of these characters should be the most important thing in connecting them. Because I believe that a character’s motivation, what a character wants will pave the way onto how they will achieve it and who they will become. So if Tommy-Wilbur parallels don’t align because Tommy wants to reclaim what was his, while Wilbur wanted to preserve what wasL’manberge; and Tubbo-Schlatt parallels don’t align because Tubbo wants what’s good for New L’manberg, while Schlatt wants what’s good for himself. Then what’s another idea we can apply to these characters.

Well, I present to you the Tommy-Schaltt and Tubbo-Wilbur connection.  I believe that the characters that have been paired off in this new connection have more in common than the connection I mentioned earlier.

Tommy and Schlatt both have selfish goals. Tommy wants his discs. Schlatt wants his power. Both of them also have violent tendencies which is most obvious during their descents. Tommy lashes out violently to the people who were trying to help him, just like a certain goat.

we know that Tommy can put his discs to the side-- he’s not that selfish, but Tommy is changing. He’s done putting his own desires to the side, he wants what is rightfully his. I can imagine Tommy realizing that the only way he’ll get his discs back is to become powerful. Give Tommy his villain arc, he deserves to go feral in the pursuit of power. Both Tommy and Schlatt have been exiled, I desperately hope that when Tommy returns from his exile he gets the power that he craves in order to get what he wants.

Tubbo and Wilbur. What do they have in common? Wilbur wanted to destroy L’manburg, while Tubbo wants to protect it. The thing they have in common is their unyielding love for L’manburg. A devotion that ruins one’s morality. That’s what Tubbo and Schlatt don’t have in common, Tubbo has ideals he maintains, Schlatt doesn’t. However these ideals are slowly being broken. In a reddit post, Wilbur confirmed that Tubbo is a lawful good. Tubbo stick to what is right and what is good. But as we can see Tubbo is under immense pressure from his cabinet, they don’t respect him. His cabinet wants power and they don’t see Tubbo as powerful. So, Tubbo in this current arc is turning against his morals of peace in order to satisfy his violent cabinet. He even broke the no armor rule. He’s changing and not for the better.

This sounds a lot like Wilbur during his time in Pogtopia. Where Wilbur’s sanity cracks under the pressure of his fellow Pogtopians wishing for a great ruler. Wilbur tossed his old days of adamantly using words to fight, when the war came he wielded his weapons. Since he can’t have his country, he’ll have to destroy it in order to protect L’manburg from the hands of others.

I predict that Tubbo will end up betraying the butcher army once he realizes how futile this quest is. That what Quackity is doing is ruining Tubbo’s beloved L’manburg. If Tubbo completes his road to villainy I think he’ll end up as a scary villain who manipulates and smiles through things. Tubbo cares about L’manburg the most. It’s the only thing that has been trusted to him, and I’m sure he’ll do anything to protect it, morals be damned.

There’s already hints of Tubbo becoming more obsessed with L’manburg. During the beginning of the Exile Arc, something stuck out to me. When Tubbo exiled Tommy he said “Dream, please escort Tommy out of my country”, not L’manburge, or New L’manberge it’s my country.  When he first said it, I immediately got flashbacks to Wilbur repeatedly saying “my L'manburg”.

So in conclusion, while Tubbo-Schlatt, Tommy-Wilbur have more connections aesthetically, I think that narratively Tubbo-Wilbur and Tommy-Schlatt have a stronger connection. Tubbo and Tommy know the score. They know that Tommy shouldn’t end up like Wilbur and Tubbo knows that he shouldn’t end up like Schlatt. They’ll do everything to not end up like their parallel predecessor . But nobody is stopping them from becoming like the other’s predecessors.

Tubbo will become  not like Schlatt but like Wilbur.

And Tommy will become not like Wilbur but like Schlatt.

Is this true Who knows? All I know is that these two will end up as on opposite sides of the battlefield

Bonus prediction:

Yo guys a short prediction on what I think will happen in the Christmas Festival. Philza will inform the Antarctic anarchist commune on the event and how Dream will be there. Tommy suggests that it’ll be the perfect time to try and get his discs back, and Techno will think it’s perfect time for revenge, and of course ghostbur is happy to attend a festival. On the day of reckoning. Dream gets trapped and all is going to plan. However I believe that Tommy’s unresolved confused feelings about his manipulator will cause him to help dream. Imagine the cinematic parallels of Tommy enderpearling to defend a trapped Dream just like how he enderpearled to Tubbo during the festival. Techno will help Dream escape this assanation, he owes dream a solid after all. And Phil will follow and protect his sons, because he doesn’t want to be helpless anymore. He wants to protect his family. And as things are going down Tubbo vs. Tommy. Wilbur will be breaking down filled with so much repressed memories begging to be let out. Maybe he’ll remember, and who knows what will happen to him. Maybe this will be the time that Tubbo realizes that the butcher army is ruining new l’manberge and he has to save his country.

[mymelodyheart]

Miles Between Us Chapter 11 ~Suspicious Minds~

Picture Edit by melodyheart

Previously in The Art of Non-Communication ...

A familiar bright red Fiat slowed down next to them just as Jamie was about to get into the car, and Ian, their brother-in-law, poked his head out of the window. "Hey, lads, guess who I just saw back in town?"

The brothers looked at each other and shrugged. 

When Ian stalled, Willie blew out an impatient breath. 

"Out with it!" Willie grumbled. "I've been away from work for far too long already."

Ian grinned. "Yer pal Christie."

Jamie waved a hand in the air in dismissal and turned to open the car door, not particularly interested in hearing the latest coming and going in Broch Mordha. "I'm pretty sure the lassies will be thrilled he's back."

"Aye, ye're probably right, but I dinnae think ye'd be too pleased to hear if one particular lass is enjoying his company."

Jamie whipped around. "What do ye mean?" He sounded like someone just launched a flying rugby pass onto his stomach.

"Saw Claire and Tom through the window of Slater's Arms. Probably sitting down for late lunch."

  If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

 Claire hurriedly made her way to Slater's Arms to meet Tom Christie. They'd arranged earlier to meet at the pub after he'd dropped her off at the village centre to do her errands, so she was surprised to see him waiting outside. After exchanging a hurried cursory hello, he allowed him to guide her through the half-filled bar, his hand ever so lightly touching her elbow. They were greeted by a string of boisterous sallies from the locals, to which Tom good-humouredly responded with a couple of wisecracks of his own . It was becoming pretty clear they were in his local haunt and was well-liked by its patrons. But she also suspected there could be whispers going around, wondering what she was doing with him. Despite those thoughts, she kept her head up, and a smile plastered to her face.

After navigating through the narrow maze of tables and chairs, they opted for an empty space by the window, away from the bar where a heated football discussion was just about to begin. They simultaneously slid into their seats, sitting opposite each other, his lopsided grin and lax manner putting her immediately at ease. He was seemingly oblivious to the curious stares around them, but Claire paid no heed to the attention they were garnering and pushed her earlier encounter with Jenny away from her mind. This was a professional meeting, a welcome distraction even though it was proving an impossibility not to picture Jamie across from her. Suddenly missing Jamie, she allowed her thoughts to momentarily drift and wondered what he was up to.

"Hey."

Claire snapped out of her reverie. "Huh?"

"I asked if ye're hungry."

"Oh! Well, I'm not sure," she murmured, squinting at the specials scrawled on the blackboard hanging behind the bar. "Sort of, I guess."

"Sort of?" he laughed. "What kind of answer is that?" He passed her a menu. "Here. Ye ought to try their haggis tweeds. They have the best in this area."

She snorted, taking the menu card and skimming through it. "Really? I've never met a Scot who liked haggis, and yet every one of you lot I've met recommends it to non-locals."

"Aaahh," he leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. "To be honest, I dinnae like haggis myself when cooked the traditional way. But the haggis tweeds are different ...more palatable. They're rolled into balls, breaded and deep-fried. I'm quite sure ye'll like them."

"Hmmm ..." When she glanced up from the menu, she met his thoughtful gaze. Though smiling, he had an odd expression on his face. "Wot?" She smoothed her hair, thinking it must be all over the place. She dreaded what her hair looked like after being caught in the rain earlier on. She wished now she'd tied it back before leaving the cottage. "Anything wrong?"

Tom shrugged his shoulders. "Just noticing ye dinnae look as upbeat as ye sounded on the phone the first time we talked. I was expecting ye to be more excited about selling me the idea of publishing my travel book. Ye kinda look as if something is bothering ye. Is anything the matter?"

She let out an exhale and placed the menu down. "I'm sorry. I've just had a rough day."

"Boyfriend problem?" he asked slowly.

She arched an eyebrow at him. Friendly as Tom was, Claire wasn't prepared to share any details of her personal life. "I just have a lot of things going on, and then you threw me out of the loop," she explained, not wanting to lie but not wanting to over-share either. "I was caught off-guard when you phoned earlier, and I wasn't expecting your call until, at least, sometime next week."

"Ye could've told me to meet at a later date. I wouldnae have minded."

"No! Today is fine," she assured him quickly. "I'm probably slowly weaning from the fast pace of hectic schedules in London, that at the first sign of change, I stumble a bit."

He grinned. "Weel, whatever is bothering ye, I dinnae like you looking so downcast. Maybe we can do something about it right now and tell ye a bit of good news. To cheer ye up."

"I like good news ..." she remarked, perking up, guessing he probably had a new picture or post on his blog he wanted to show.

"That's much better," he said when he caught a hint of a smile forming on her face. "As I was saying, I have a bit of good news. I've been giving your proposition a lot of thought ..." he shifted on his seat and took a deep breath. "I've decided I want to go ahead and publish my travel blog in print."

She blinked and swallowed before finding her voice. "But you haven't seen the projected sale and all the ..."

He waved a hand. "I'm quite sure after that impressive pitch over the phone, yer projected whatever and other wotnots ye wish to go over with me will be just as equally convincing. The idea is sold, and I'm on board."

"Just like that?"

He nodded his head, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Aye. Now that I've met ye in person, I'm pretty confident ye'll make sure I'll get a fair deal for my book. I'm a good judge of character, and I trust ye'll do what's right."

"Of course."

"So it's settled."

"Well, that's ...that's fabulous," she breathed, her mind rushing in all sorts of direction.

"This calls for a celebration, don't ye think?" he smiled, waving at the waitress.

Before Claire could reply, her purse vibrated. She pointed an index finger at Tom. "Hold that thought." She opened her bag and grabbed her phone. It was her boss, John Grey.

"Oh, hi, John! I'm in the middle of ..."

"Claire, I'm sorry to dump this on you," John said rapidly in a panicky tone. "Mary Hawkins just phoned and said she expects you to pick her up at Inverness Airport."

"Wot?!? But how? Why?" She glanced at Tom and noticed a light frown lining his brows. "She hasn't been answering any of my emails. What the hell is she doing in Inverness?" She knew it wasn't professional to be discussing another author over the phone with a potential client in front of her. But it couldn't be helped. At the moment, she was far too agitated to care. Mary Hawkins, the publishing's star author, had been elusive ever since she disappeared to France, and she'd been the reason Claire had decided to take a break in Scotland only to be given another job in the form of Tom Christie. "Please don't tell me you sent her here. I have enough on my plate as it is." She gave Tom an apologetic look, to which he just shrugged and smiled in understanding.

A frustrated sigh came from John. "I swear to God, this isn't my doing. She arrived yesterday here in London, and when she demanded to start work right away on her book, I assigned another editor. But she wouldn't have it. She insisted on working with you. So I told her you're in Inverness doing another project. And then she called a few minutes ago, demanding you pick her up at the airport. I swear I didn't know she was planning on flying to Inverness."

Oh, God! "John!" she whined. "I can't just drop everything and pick her up. I'm an editor, not a chauffeur! I'm in the middle of talks with Mr Christie."

"I'm terribly sorry for this mess, Claire but, isn't there anything you can do? Your boyfriend, perhaps? You know how Hawkins is a big deal for the company."

She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. Claire felt she was being put in a position she didn't want to be in. On top of it all, her uncle would be arriving in two days, and there was the added worry she had with Jamie and potentially Jenny. The day was definitely getting worse by the second, but Claire reminded herself she was John's only hope, and he was a friend and had always been good to her. When she finally had the strength to open her eyes again, Tom mouthed something she couldn't quite catch.

Wot do you mean? She mouthed back, shaking her head.

"Claire, are you still there?" 

"Yes!" she snapped, tamping down the urge to curse. "I'm here!"

"Well?"

She let out a frustrated breath. There was no way out of it. "Fine, John! But you owe me big time! I'll see what I can do." Damn it!

"You're a star!" John said, relief lacing his voice. "I knew I could rely on you. I'll text Hawkins to let her know you're on your way, and then I'll text you her private number. I don't think you'll have that. It's one of the reasons you couldn't get in touch with her. Anyway, let me know later how you get on."

Before she could answer, the line went dead. What the bloody hell just happened?

Claire dropped her head into her hands and groaned. She wanted to bawl, throw stuff and pull her hair out in frustration.

"Problems?"

She raised her head and looked at Tom. "I'm sorry you had to witness that. I have to cancel our meeting. I need to somehow get to Inverness and pick up this author I'm working with." Without going into too many details, Claire quickly explained her predicament, almost forgetting to breathe. By the time she finished, she was gasping for air and wondering if Tom understood what the hell she was on about. "As you can see, I probably have to organise her accommodation as well. So I really must get going." She stood up and grabbed her bag. "Raincheck?"

He got on his feet as well. "Look, I'm not doing anything for the rest of the day. How about I drive you to Inverness. I can even help you set her up."

"Tom, you don't have to."

"Hey, I'm about to get a book deal from your boss. Let me at least prove to ye what a perfect travel guide I am as I've portrayed on my blog."

Claire stopped to collect herself. On second thoughts, she did need Tom's help, and she couldn't well impose on Willie to drive her to Inverness when he'd been taking time off to check up on her ever since Jamie left. Maybe she could kill two birds with one stone and talk him through his own book's publishing process on their way to the airport. It was a brilliant idea, and hopefully, by the end of today, John would be able to draw up a contract for Tom. With a resigned smile, Claire appreciatively accepted the offer. "Alright then, but we do need to get going now."

"Absolutely. We'll go through the back door." When Claire looked at him curiously, he grinned. "I've parked the car in the staffs' parking lot. I'm good friends with the owner, so I get the privilege to walk through the kitchen and use the backdoor," he explained. Then he leaned closer to her ear and spoke in a low voice. "And if the chef is in a good mood, he might allow us to taste today's menu."

Claire laughed out loud, attracting attention from the pub's clientele. She ignored the curious stares. It was good to laugh again after the last couple of days of feeling down, and she owed it to herself to steer negativity and worries from her thoughts. "We'll stop by the cottage to get some clothes. Knowing my client, she'll probably want to stay in a posh hotel in Inverness and want to start working right away. She doesn't do bed and breakfast or small places. So I doubt she'll want to come to Broch Mordha."

Tom nodded with a smile as he took her hand and lead the way.

Heading to the back of the pub, Claire made a few mental notes on what she needed to take with her. She also reminded herself to message Willie about taking care of Rollo and Adso while she's away, hoping he would think nothing of it when he hears from the village gossip of her meeting with Tom.

...........

Jamie caught Willie's livid expression before the car started, and they were driving down the small country lane. He knew his brother was miffed with Ian, who'd sped ahead of them after revealing Claire's whereabouts with Christie. Though common sense told him he had nothing to be worried about, it had been still a punch in the gut to hear Claire was out with another man.

"Can ye speed up a bit?" Jamie muttered, shifting restlessly on his seat.

"We're not in a bloody motorway, and there are speed limits for a reason," Willie growled, his fingers flexing on the steering wheel. "And it will do ye a lot of good to use this time to calm down before we reach Claire. It's obvious ye're not thinking clearly."

Jamie almost wished he'd taken a ride with Ian instead. They couldn't see their brother-in-law's red Fiat anymore as it disappeared at a bend further ahead. But he knew Willie was right. He wasn't thinking clearly. It's just that, why it had to be Thomas Christie of all people Claire had chosen to go out with. He had nothing against the bloke, but he was a renowned player. What if Claire had grown tired of his condition and fell for Christie's charms? It wouldn't be a difficult feat as the bloke oozed charms by the bucketload. Hadn't he lost a girlfriend in the past because of Christie? Or was it because of his condition? He couldn't be sure anymore. Either way, knowing Claire was with Christie at this very moment was burning a hole in his stomach. "So ye're an expert on my thoughts now, are ye?" Jamie grunted, unable to think of a better excuse for his behaviour.

"I dinnae need to be an expert to know what ye're thinking ... it's written all o'er yer face," Willie retorted. "If ye'd called her up in the first place, then ye would've had a fair idea why she's meeting Christie, and ye wouldnae be in this stinking shite thinking the worse. The lass has been worried sick about ye, and she's put up with yer silence more than what could be expected of her. So do both yerselves a favour and calm the fuck down, aye?"

Jamie knocked back the claustrophobic sensation and forced himself to breathe. This had always been his trouble with his PTSD. He always had these intense emotions that always grew out of proportion to a point it would suffocate him, especially negatives ones like a feeling of lacking or guilt. Wasn't that what Geneva had said? There was a lot of misplaced guilt involved? And no matter what he did to get better, it was a bloody never-ending cycle that always brought him back to square one. But despite the shortcomings, he knew it would kill him if he didn't give himself a fighting chance with Claire. He might as well die trying. She was, after all, either going to be his reason for living or the reason he died. It was all right there, shining in front of him like a floodlight. 

With a sigh, he tried to relax. Jamie knew justifying his earlier behaviour was a bad idea in both their current edgy states, but nothing would stop him from seeing Claire right now. It was like a need that required satisfying, and he couldn't wait to finally see her. He focused on the road ahead of them and listened to the radio to take his mind of negative thoughts.

It's a dreich Thursday afternoon, and here's another trip down memory lane with Mac's Classics here at MFR, with the biggest hits and the biggest throwbacks. Next up is a song sure to make ye forget the dreary days ahead – Let's get rickrolling with Never Gonna Give You Up. 

"Turn it up," Jamie said suddenly, surprising his brother.

"What?" Willie glanced at him like he'd grown a pair of horns.

"I said, turn the bloody volume up!"

"Ye're joking, right? Rick fucking Astley? Nae chance pal!"

"Just do it," Jamie huffed, not caring what his brother thought of his song choice. When Claire had told him it had made her smile listening to it in the cafe the other day, he'd listened to it as well on his mother's antique record player. It was a bloody awful song, but for some strange reason, it had made him smile too.

Scowling and cursing under his breath, Willie eventually complied, and they listened to Rick Astley's song for the rest of the way. When they reached the village centre, Willie illegally parked outside Slater's Arms, carefully avoiding bumping into the menacing bollards. They were just about to get out of the car when Ian appeared from the pub, shaking his head.

Willie stuck his head out of the window. "What's the matter?"

"They're gone," Ian replied, shrugging, perplexity evident in his expression. "Spoke to Angus, and he said they didn't even order anything. They just got up and left."

Jamie got out of the car. "Did he say where they went?"

Ian narrowed his gaze at him. "I didnae ask."

Jamie ran a hand in front of his face and got back in the car. His brother had to work. There was only one thing left he could do, and it was to go back to the cottage, and if Claire wasn't there, he'd give her a call. He turned to Willie, letting out a sigh of resignation. "Just drop me off at the cottage. I've taken too much of yer time already."

"Ye sure?" Willie asked quietly. "I can drop ye off at Lallybroch. Yer car is there. Ye'll most probably need it soon, especially with more bad weather to come."

Jamie shook his head. He was certain Claire would be at home, and if not, surely later. He wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon but had every intention of making up for lost time with her. "It's time to go home," Jamie sighed, waving goodbye to Ian. "No more running away," 

Willie smiled, starting the car. "Good choice!" 

It was a short drive to his cottage, and by the time they pulled up outside his house, the sun started to peek out for a splinter of a moment, his driveway though occupied by an unfamiliar vehicle. As soon as he saw a man's profile sat on the driver's seat, he immediately knew it was Christie. As if anticipating his next move and before he could yank off his seatbelt, Willie slapped a hand across his chest.

"What?" Jamie wheezed.

"Claire's in the cottage. Talk to her first and find out what's going on before ye jump to any conclusions."

Jamie breathed through a laugh, but he could hear it was edged with doubt. "What if I've fucked this up?"

"Ye havenae. And it's up to ye to keep that way. Now go to her. Ye'll find out soon enough there's a perfect explanation for Christie hanging about."

Words were fighting to leave his tongue, but he clamped his lips together and held them back. Vocalising the feelings raging inside his chest would only allow his emotions to run away with him. He reigned them in and took a deep breath. Whether it's a consequence of PTSD or not, he couldn't expect Claire to understand every time. So instead, Jamie gave Willie a reassuring nod and hoped his brother was right. 

He got out of the car and walked straight to the cottage, refusing to acknowledge Christie. He knew he was being rude and could feel his brother's eyes boring into his back as well as Christie's. He didn't care because right at this moment, his primary focus was Claire. 

As soon as he opened the door and saw Claire hooking a bag onto her shoulder, he bounded across the room, dropping his face into her neck and breathing for the first time in days. "Sassenach," he whispered. "I'm so sorry for leaving ye. I wasnae thinking. Please forgive me."

Claire dropped her bag on the floor, wrapping both arms around his neck. "Jamie, you're here," she breathed into his ear. "Are you alright? God, I've been so worried about you."

"I'm alright now that I'm here and ye're here," he rasped, lifting his head for a moment and eyeing the bags on the floor. "Why are yer bags packed?"

She followed his gaze. "I ...ah ... it's work, and I have to ..."

"Ye're going back to London?"

"No!"

That's all he needed to hear. Unable to wait any longer for an explanation, he pulled her into his arms as urgency pumped in his veins. He badly needed to absorb as much as he could of her, breathing her in, in huge gulps of air. His mouth travelled over her neck, into her hair, across her lips, whispering for forgiveness, his hands restless as he touched her everywhere.

"Hey, look at me ... there's nothing to forgive," she murmured, drawing away. She placed her hands on both sides of his face and searched his eyes. "I understand what you've been going through, and I know you're fighting your hardest. It's going to be alright."

"I've missed ye." He turned his face to kiss her palm before placing her hand on his chest. "I-I thought ye're better off without me. I thought I could walk away from ye, and it would be enough knowing ye're safe from me. But nothing was right. I was sick to the soul, knowing I've left ye. I wanted ye to be with a better man than me, but now ... I'm gonnae be selfish and beg ye to let me be that man by yer side."

"Jamie, where's this coming from?" she queried. "I was worried and afraid for you, but I haven't changed my mind about us." She sighed. "Your brother told me yesterday, you were seeing a therapist this morning. Did you go today?"

Jamie swallowed and nodded, unable to still his hands, touching her everywhere, needing to assure himself he was really holding her.

"Is this why you're talking like this? Has the therapy dug up a lot of unwanted issues? Because if it has, it's perfectly normal."

"No!" He let out a frustrated breath. He'd been so unpredictable with the symptoms of his PTSD coming and going, she wasn't taking him seriously when he needed her to hear him out. "No, please listen and look me in the eye. I panicked when I saw the bruises on yer arms, and without thinking, I left. I did what I did because I didnae think I could ever be the man for ye ...a bloody disappointment, constantly causing ye grief. But I understand now why my condition is out of control at the moment ... it's because I have suppressed emotions that need to come out. It's been coming out more because all this while, ye've been the key to my healing. So I'm handing everything inside me over to ye because I trust ye, and ye're the only one who can make sense of me. I cannae promise smooth sailing, Sassenach, but there is one thing I know ye can depend on and will always be constant despite my condition. And that's my love for ye. I can guarantee ye with certainty ye can rely on that. This isnae a result of my therapy talking, alright? I willnae let ye go for anything. I can work around my condition with ye by my side, and I'll work twice as hard to get better."

"Jamie, I love you too, and I have no doubt that ..."

"Then why are your bags packed?" he questioned accusingly. "And why is Christie outside waiting for ye?" 

With a sharp intake of breath, Claire quickly explained everything from the call she received from her boss to Christie's involvement and an impatient Mary Hawkins waiting for her at the airport. 

He could tell she was itching to go by the way she tried to subtly glance at her watch, but he was feeling too selfish. "How about I drive ye to Inverness?" he cajoled, his hand stroking her hair. "Willie is still outside. We'll get my car in Lallybroch, and I'll drive ye." He suddenly felt like a bastard keeping her from doing her work.

"Jamie, no!" she said gently but firmly. He knew she was restraining herself from rushing off, wanting to make sure he was alright first. "I can't be fretting about you being in a city when I have work to do. There's a possibility I'll be back tonight, but if Mary wants to work straight away on her book, then I have to stay in Inverness for a couple of nights, tops. Besides, I need to explain to Tom about his book's publication and make sure he hasn't changed his mind. Until we've drawn up a contract, nothing is certain." Her hands smoothed the hard muscles on his chest. "Besides, I need you to be here when my uncle comes. He'll be hiring a car, so he won't require picking up."

"What? Ye're uncle is coming here?" he almost shouted.

"No. I mean, uncle Lamb won't be staying here in the cottage even though you told him he could. I've already booked him a place in the village centre ...close to the amenities."

He let out a sigh of relief. He didn't think he was ready to bond with Harry's look-alike ...yet. If anything, he dreaded it, afraid of other suppressed memories dying to come out and choke him with guilt.

"Jamie, I really ought to go. I promise I'll call later and explain everything."

With a groan, he pulled Claire in once more in his arms and kissed her thoroughly, and she responded with a whimper that told him she was enjoying the kiss. He hadn't even had a second to savour getting her back before the prospect of letting her go again struck him like a baseball bat between the shoulder blades. But he wanted to give her something to remember while she's away and what she'll be missing if she didn't hurry up with her work. He slipped his hand under her cardigan, caressing her nipple with the calloused pad of his thumb and pressing his burgeoning erection against her belly.

"I love ye ...always remember that." His mouth coasted along the lines of her jaw, his hands squeezing her waist. "I ken ye've been patient and understanding with me, but just try to be extra tolerant with me for now. Can ye do that?"

She nodded, her face red from beard burn. "Alright, but I do need to go, Jamie." Her eyes flashed. "And you have nothing to worry about. So please rest up tonight because you'll need a hell of a lot of energy when my uncle comes."

It's the way she looked at him, pleading for understanding that became his undoing as if she's reading his thoughts, and despite everything he'd done, she couldn't find fault with a single one. He needed to be a better man and control his emotions and needs. Her work was important to her, and she was important to him. "Fine, I'll walk ye to the car." He stooped down to get her bags and followed her outside.

They stopped beside Christie's car, and Jamie watched the other man climbed out, both men grunting a greeting at each other. 

"Am I still driving ye to Inverness, Claire?" Christie asked, avoiding Jamie's eyes.

Claire nodded. "Yes, please, if that's still alright with you. I'm so sorry I took so long."

"It's nae bother, and of course, I'll drive ye to Inverness," Christie smiled warmly. 

A long silence stretched as the three of them just stood there. Christie rocked on his heels, and Jamie held on to Claire's bags like it was his lifeline. 

Caught up in the awkwardness of the moment, Claire bit her bottom lip. "Well, I guess that's settled then. We best get going before Mary does something like bite some poor soul's head at the airport." Claire's attempt to sound cheerful lessened the tension in the air but not the one on Jamie's shoulders. She turned to him and tried to take her bags off his hands, but he couldn't seem to let go. "Jamie ...my bags," she whispered, her hand running up and down his forearm as if to tell him everything was going to be alright.

But instead of giving Claire's bags back to her, he begrudgingly handed them to Christie while launching if looks could kill look over her head. They had a few seconds of stare off until Claire's hands on his face forced him to look at her.

"Jamie, kiss me, goodbye?"

He didn't hesitate at her request and sucked on her bottom lip as she made a sobbing noise. That wee noise she made jolted something free inside of him, and he, too, wanted to cry. He couldn't remember wanting to openly cry before. Not like this. He couldn't control it, and it dragged him down, stealing oxygen from his lungs, but Claire's touches soothed him. 

"I don't want to go," she murmured against his mouth. "Not one bit. But I'm doing this for us, remember that. The sooner I'm done with work, the more time we can spend time together." 

He allowed himself to wade into the shallow waters of comfort Claire was starting to represent. He'd lived with this reality for too long that he wasn't enough. Or probably worse, he was too much. For years, these memories of loss and guilt and shame had been subdued. Now they're coming out with guns blazing, and he felt totally defenceless. But with her arms around him, he felt cocooned in her bubble of protection. So he clung to her like a drunk with his last shot of whisky, the desperation inside him going into overdrive, and he was practically mauling her lips with no care whose watching, drawing her onto tiptoes so he could get all of her from every angle.

"Jamie," she whispered shakily, gently pulling away. "My phone is going off every second. Mary is probably wondering why I haven't called her." 

Breathe, lad, it's going to be alright. Don't lose yer cool, or ye'll drive her away. He let go and opened the car door for her, not taking any notice of the man waiting patiently at the driver's seat. "I'm sorry," Jamie mumbled.

"It's alright." She smiled in understanding, squeezing his hand. "I'll be back before you know it."

He held on to Claire's eyes, the only tangible thing he could grasp, giving him a renewed determination to manage the condition that had ruled him all his life. At that moment, the world suddenly made sense, and he was veering into a place he didn't recognise ...a place of calm, where the voices in his head had lost their dominion over his thoughts.

He watched as Christie's Land Rover drove away and was surprised when a hand landed on his shoulder. Jamie turned around to discover Willie stood there, a smile etched on his face. Jamie had forgotten about his brother, too caught up with Claire's departure and the intense emotions he'd nearly let out of control. 

"Ye did well, bràthair. I'm so proud of ye."

Jamie dropped his head forward and let out an exhale, feeling a lot lighter in days. He knew he'd only scratched the surface of their relationship, but Claire was giving him all the time in the world to get back on his feet, and he was determined not to disappoint her. Though it had been a struggle not to let his emotions take control, it was at least a start. He glanced up at his brother and smiled.

"Ye alright there, Jamie lad?" Willie playfully slapped him on the back for good measure.

"Aye, I think so." This time Jamie meant it and believed his own words. He threw an arm around Willie's shoulder, squeezed it briefly before stepping back. "And thank ye for sticking around. I owe ye one."

"Aye ye do," Willie grinned. "How about repaying me like right now and coming to work. It should keep yer mind busy and help me catch up with a long list of jobs."

Jamie didn't need prodding. His mouth curved into a smile, and he nodded his head. "After seeing Christie, I think I'm in the mood for uprooting trees."

They shared a wicked glance and then laughed out loud.

 Dear Readers,

Thank you all for your patience with this story and the feedback from the previous chapter. 

Mental health stories are, I personally think, the hardest to put across because it involves a lot of emotions and psychological battle that are difficult to put into words. But I was determined to write this account even though it has its challenges, so I hope I've done it justice.

Part of the reason for pushing to write such a story that delves into the mind of a tortured soul is to raise mental health awareness because there are many things that people still don't understand about this illness. In saying that, some of you were disappointed by Jamie's behaviour, and I wanted that to happen to make a point.

In real life, it's so much easier to categorise and point out someone's shortcoming instead of trying to understand the psyche of a person's behaviour. From my perspective, each of us has undoubtedly suffered a form of mental illness at least once, but not everyone has the emotional and psychological strength and maturity to cope or overcome it. Nor do they have access to help. In Jamie' case, he's got a strong network of family, and he got Claire to help him get through it. 

So the moral of the story is, spread kindness because you never know what really is going on in someone's mind. 

For now, take care of yourselves. Until the next update ... X

[ohnotoomanyfandoms]

Let's talk about those two chapters!!!!!

You ask, we deliver! Let’s talk about my theories from the two preview chapters of Chain of Iron, shall we? So many thoughts, I’ll have to be brief with each one. Feel free to ask questions on anything I don’t mention or clarifications on points I do touch. 

1. Belial. Who is he possessing? James would be so obvious it’s cheap. The fun plot twist would be Lucie, who complained in Chain of Gold that she’s also Belial’s granddaughter. It would go in perfect irony with Lucie’s line to Grace “I don’t want to do evil things” while she runs around being possessed by a Greater Demon killing innocent mundanes (and probably Shadowhunters too) in London. However, as marvelous as this sounds, it appears Belial is possessing a male body (unless it’s just written to mislead us). In that case, my next best guess (and something I DO NOT want happening) would be Matthew. He isn’t a descendant of Belial’s, but he is magically linked to James via the parabatai rune and bond, so that could be a loophole. What made me think that? At the Devil’s Tavern, Matthew wishes James gone for a second, and James ends up in the shadow realm, Belial’s realm, for the first time in four months.

2. There is something FISHY going on with Hypatia and the Helle Ruelle celebrating Lilith. Well, not really that. What stinks is that Cassandra would feel the need to explain Lilith’s history with the angels to us again and that Cordelia would spend another entire paragraph going over the ceremony performed when Shadowhunter babies are born. We know this already. She’s saying it for our benefit and for a reason. Are the warlocks hiding a Shadowhunter baby? Or alternatively, WHO DIDN’T GET THE CEREMONY? This could also be the answer to our previous question, because we know that “unbaptized” babies can be possessed by demons (like Jace after his rebirth in TMI) so it could solve the mystery of Belial’s possession without needing a blood relation. Or... WILL LILIHT MAKE AN APPEARANCE IN COI/COT?

3. Cordelia will go see Wayland the Smith in this book. When? Well, when Cortana starts burning her, of course. She’ll try to find answers everywhere, consulting books, Jem, even friendly warlocks perhaps, but eventually she’ll have to ask that faerie to take her to Wayland, Cortana’s legendary maker, and make a deal. NEVER PROMISE ANYTHING TO FAERIES, DAISY! That will be a mess. 

4. I think the Gracelet doesn’t work in the shadow realm, which confirms that Belial didn’t cast the spell on the bracelet, because surely his magic would work in his own kindgom? James was thinking of the wedding in the tone he would under the effect of the Gracelet, and in the shadow realm he suddenly has a rather romantic view of Cordelia, like an avenging angel or “a goddess captured in a painting: Liberty or Victory leading the people.” Something to keep an eye on.

5. As we know, Grace and Christopher are supposed to get married, according to the misleading family tree. We don’t know if that will end up happening, but I suppose this is how they could grow closer: we know Lucie has been asking Kit for ingredients for their spells. When Lucie inevitably pulls away from the agreement with Grace because she doesn’t yet want to do full-on necromancy (good call, I hope she sticks by it but I doubt she will), Grace will need to ask Christopher directly - she can’t risk being seen at the Shadow Market, given her mother’s history, so he’s her best option. 

6. Filomena di Angelo will be the name of the Italian Shadowhunter, I’m 99.9999999% sure at this point. Am I happy? No. Speaking as an Italian myself, Cassie couldn’t have picked a worse name. (Yes, it makes me smile that she and Rick Riordan exchange character names, but this name still doesn’t sound right or fitting. Happy to elaborate more in another post if you’re interested!)

7. As I’ve said before, to the delight of our Jordelia hearts, James has no intention whatsoever of cheating on Daisy or breaking his promise to her by seeing Grace. Unfortunately, he won’t be able to help it because Grace’s spell will compel him to go see her at one point. Sad angst and a loss of trust will ensue. UNLESS the magic of the MARRIAGE RUNES is stronger than the Gracelet and can counteract it. That would be dope. But that would also mean a win for us, and it’s only the second book... 

8. The Lucie/Jesse content was too on the nose. it’s only the first two chapters and it’s 1903, stop flirting, goddammit. Apart from that, Lucie is being too reckless. She’ll get in trouble soon.

9. Matthew is going to behave with Cordelia. He would and will never put her in a compromising position or one where she would have to choose between him and James. The “”””kiss”””” was accidental, Cassie said as much in a Tumblr answer. I love their friendship, it’s one of my favorites. But trust me, it’s not going to go anywhere beyond that. Matthew may wish, but he will never act. He likes pursuing loves that are “hopeless”, it’s said as much in the text. 

10. ANNA WAS TOTALLY FLIRTING WITH CORDELIA ON THE EVE OF HER WEDDING TO ANNA’S COUSIN, SCANDALOUS

11. Thomas and Alastair will finally speak at the wedding. Not make up yet, but have a conversation. I just hope Charles doesn’t magically come back from Paris to make an appearance.

12. THE NEXT CHAPTER WE READ WILL BE THE JORDELIA WEDDING (!!!) and all the adults will be there so we’ll see all our TID darlings as well. I am prepared to bet anything that Brother Zachariah will officiate the wedding. I cannot wait.

13. What the fùck was up with the reverse mermaid???????????

Need more analysis or clarifications on some points? Want help believing in Mucie and keeping your faith in Jordelia? WE’VE GOT YOU. Send me all your questions. I would prefer non-anonymous ones, so I can notify you! 

[codename-adler]

Dear Tumblr toxicity,

Hi. Adler here. We need to talk.

- TW: mental health issues, depression, bipolar disorder, self-harm, homophobia, transphobia, coming out, xenophobia, islamophobia, racism, implied sexual content, rape, non-con, addictions, abuse, parental negligence, depictions of violence, swearing (please message me kindly if I forget anything)

- What prompted this message: The release of Skam France S7 teaser (emphasis on teaser, will get into that below)

- Where I’m coming from: I will talk from the pov of a white, cis and queer 22-years-old woman (she/her); this is the pov that affects my experiences and the opinions I will share below; but my message comes from a place of deep hurt, and love

- What this is about: My goal is to share a recurring experience that has hurt me in order to spread a message of awareness, maturity, peace and love

- Central content: Skam France, Skam Wtfock, and Skam/remakes in general

From now on I will assume people have enough information for me to talk about the topics without explaining every plotline/character. There are plenty of wiki pages to help you out and I will gladly answer any (respectful) questions asked if a plothole bothers your comprehension of my message. I’m only making these assumptions in order to alleviate the text.

January 9th, 2021.

The francetv slash YouTube channel releases an unexpected teaser video for an equally unexpected seventh season Skam France. The video features Tiffany, a white, cis female teenager, going into labour from denial pregnancy just after winning what appears to be a gymnastics championship. Overall, the video and its release are very dramatic.

The character of Tiffany, also called Tiff, was previously seen on season 6 of Skam France as a bully who persecuted the main character, Lola, both at school and on social media. Outside of this characterization, nothing is known about her. It is majorly accepted that Tiff is not a liked character; she rather poses as one of the antagonists of Lola’s arc.

Now you know the details of what happened, in the most objectively possible way. 

Now I’ll speak for myself.

Before I went digging around for people’s reaction, here is what I initially thought of this video.

1) Shock: I thought Skam France was over, so... Big, big shock.

2) Excitement: I hold this web series very close to my heart. It has gotten me through depressive episodes, anxiety attacks, coming out to my best friend. To see this new development? It couldn’t bring me more joy.

3) Curiosity: I recognized Tiff immediately. I was intrigued as to what would happen to her to set off a new season in true Skam Fr fashion. As soon as she started gripping her stomach, I knew she was pregnant and wasn’t aware of it. Big, big surprise here again.

4) Numbness/Overthinking: As I stared at my screen, motionless, my mind went off. What did it mean? How did she not know? Who is the father? Do we know him? Will the baby survive? Where are the other characters? Will Lamifex be present? What? How? When? Why? Who?

5) Disappointment: No, I did not like Tiff one bit in S6. Yes, I sincerely wished for a season on either Jo (ambiguous and funny teenage girl, cis + white), Sekou (seemingly neurodivergent teenage boy, cis + black), and my favorite, Max (mysterious and grave teenage boy, trans + white) So why Tiff? It felt to me like a missed opportunity, but I did not lose hope.

So, these were the five stages of my emotional process. And then I made the terrible mistake to go look for the fans’ reaction. I didn’t even look at the YT comments, I didn’t go on Instagram, I went directly here on Tumblr. Why? I’m still asking myself that. From S1 to S6 of Skam Fr, I kept my love for the show to myself and only looked at ig and video edits. I tried once, and only once, to look it up on Tumblr, and was greeted by fervent agressivity, disrespect and hate. Why did I ever forget that after watching the S7 teaser? I still don’t know.

The reactions on this platform were wild. People are furious (I get that). People are disappointed (I get that). People are anxious (I get that). People are also verbally agressive, insensitive, hateful, disrespectful and bullies. I don’t get that.

Comments along the lines of “What she gonna do with a fucking baby?”, “Are we gonna watch the baby do nothing all fucking season?”, “Wowwww, teenage pregnancy, so new and relatable!” (note the sarcasm made in the comment here), “Who gives a shit about Tiff?”, etc. 

And then all the mistakes Skam Fr ever made flooded back onto the feed. The wlw misrepresentation, the whitewashing, the overdramatization, the dubious sex scenes between minors, all of it.

Let’s take a break here. Do I condone these mistakes? Nope. Am I a white-bully apologist? Nope. Did I forget every horrible action Tiff has made in the past? Nope. She manipulated a whole school against Lola, she profited from Lola’s mother’s death, she bullied her, harrassed her, pushed her deeper into mental distress. Tiff was a despicable character that I never once liked. The way she was played by the actress made it clear that Tiff was not intended to be a good guy. If I could replace her as the main of S7, I would, in a heartbeat. I’d choose, as I said, Jo, Sekou or Max.

Skam France deeply lacks diversity and made mistakes when attempting to diverse the issues represented. This is not an opinion, it’s a fact. 

Poc representation is very, very low. Only one season has a woc of Islam beliefs as mc (Imane, S4) with poc entourage/family. Only 2 other characters not related to Imane were poc (Sekou and Sarah, S1-S2). These 2 characters were very in the background and served to further the mc’s plotline, they had no real content. (I am not a poc, and so my opinion does not matter here. If you are not poc, your “opinions” don’t matter here, this point is not for you to debate. These are facts.)

While I do not particularly find the wlw representation bad, I do understand how it hurts/bothers other queer women. From my perspective, the bar was very low regarding my expectations of the Lola/Maya pair (none of them died *yay* they had a happy ending *yay* they were not typically overfeminized or overmasculinized *yay* Lola  and Maya were respectful of each other, understood each other, accepted each other with all their flaws and their beauty *yay* I truly believed in their love and it gave me confidence and hope *yay* I ould really go on but this is not my main point so I’ll stop here) Regardless of my opinion on Mayla, I understand that to some queer women, it was bothering/hurtful. (If you are anything other than a woman / wlw, this point is not for you to debate. Keep your “opinions” to yourself, it does not matter here. These are facts.)

Like every remake of the original Skam where the S4 was given to Sana/Imane, the Muslim community was not represented at its best, at its most beautiful and respectfully. The character of Imane, although she is my favorite girl of the series, was not portrayed in a way that respected the majority of the Muslim community. (If you are anything other than Muslim, this point is not for you to debate. Our opinions do not matter here. These are facts.)

And so the same goes for the portrayal of sexual assault and child pronography in S2, of mental illness and homophobia in S3, of disabilities in S5, of addiction, transphobia, self-harm and neurodivergence in S6. Again, if you are not part of these communities, your opinions do not matter on these issues. These are facts that are not up for debate.

In other words, Skam France, as well as the original Skam, Skam Wtfock, Skam España, and probably all the others I haven’t watched in their entirety, are NOT perfect shows. They (maybe) tried their best to portray issues of the younger generations that are ugly, shameful, taboo, hard-to-swallow-pills. Of course they made mistakes. Of course they have to be held accountable. Of course they can and should do better. Of course it must be spoken about.

Here is my problem.

The so-called “fans” shamelessly SHITTING on the WHOLE show because of ONE TEASER TRAILER. (btw, this is where I get angry)

I am not talking about the fans making fun of the show and this season’s premise like “Better MCs than Tiff for S7: a romance between the car that almost hit Lucas S3 and the car that hit Arthur S5, or the school’s nurse, or Imane’s dad, or Elu’s rabbit” (that shit’s funny and I’d watch all of these).Or the joke about Wtfock and Skam Fr shaking hands while signing the same contract to disappoint the fans with white MCs (it’s funny cuz it’s trueeeee).

I am not talking about the fans criticizing the producers’ choice of Tiff as MC. There is a difference between shitting on issues and adressing/discussing them. I WANT to talk about how this season’s issue would have been so much better if a woc, specifically a black woman, had been the MC, because black women and doctors are a whole different level of issue than white women and doctors. Add on top of that an unplanned teenage pregnancy? It would have been IMMACULATE. I WANT to talk which wlw couple was better represented, Mayla or Croana/Crisana, and why is that. I WANT to talk about disabilities in black and poc communities. I WANT to talk about headcanons, AUs, to rectify the missed marks. I WANT to talk about our takes on seasons about Max, Sekou and Jo, instead of Tiff’s.

I DO NOT WANT TO TALK ABOUT YOUR SHITTY, NEGATIVE, UNHELPFUL, HURTFUL COMMENTS.

Just because the protagonist is white, doesn’t give you ANY right to dismiss the issue that is unplanned teenage pregnancy. This is a problem that affects countries WORLDWIDE. Do you know how many deaths are related to minors giving birth? Do you know how many babies die at birth from these pregnancies? Do you have any idea the trauma it puts you through, to go into labor without even knowing you were pregnant in the first place, and then giving birth, and then having to care for a defensless human being? The dilemma of keeping it, or giving it away? The fear that lives in every person able to give birth, that one day they’ll become pregnant, because society turns sych a shameful look to that? No matter your ethnicity, your gender identity, your sexuality, your political stance or whatever shit you bring up to justify your disgraceful and downright degrading comments, YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SAY THAT A MINOR GIVING BIRTH IS NOT AN ISSUE. 

You think the topic has been covered plenty before? Yeah, because shows like “16 and pregnant” and “I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant!” are such good examples and show the reality with such an objective point of view! 

Bullshit. Teenage pregnancy is still a taboo, it still kills, and people are still morons about it. 

“Well I guess everybody is secretly pregnant now!” No, Jessica, but you wouldn’t know about it, would you? Because I wouldn’t tell you shit if you were my “friend” and I was going through it. The whole message of all the Skams is not that it presents super relatable issues of teenagers, although it is a big topic of the show. They present some issues that affect the youth in an authentic light, but that’s not it.

Tous les gens que tu rencontres mènent un combat dont tu ignores tout. 

Sois indulgente. Toujours. x x x

//

Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about.

Be kind. Always. x x x

THAT’S THE MESSAGE. THAT’S THE WHOLE POINT OF THE SHOW.

And you all missed it.

All of you making dead baby jokes and death threats, degrading people who give birth, shaming teenagers for their pregnancies... Listen to yourselves.

“Well she deserves it, she was such a bitch!” No, Michael, you shit stick. Let’s rewind a bit for you, yeah? It was a GOD DAMN TEASER. We literally know nothing! Nothing at all! Why are y’all getting mad when we saw 3:25 minutes representing a whole ass season! Listen to yourselves. Y’all judge so fast for people pretending to love Skam and its authenticity and its motto.

You say Tiff is irredeemable?

Emma cheated on her boyfriend.

Manon lied and manipulated her friends.

Lucas was homophobic and prejudiced agaisnt mentally ill people.

Imane was homophobic too and went behind her friends’ back to get what she wanted.

Arthur cheated on his girlfriend too.

Lola dragged Elliot down with her in her addiction, lied, was verbally abusive, etc.

ALL THE MAINS ARE PROBLEMATIC.

Any guess why?

BECAUSE THEY ARE TEENAGERS. THEY ARE STILL GROWING AND LEARNING.

Yet we still loved them all. 

So don’t you dare tell me that Tiff deserves this, that her baby deserves to die, that teenage motherhood is irrelevant. Motherhood is not a curse in the first place, nor is it something to wish to inflict upon anyone. Motherhood is different for every single person and nobody except the person living with it can have an opinion on that. We don’t even know if the baby survived, for God’s sake!

There is no excuse for this kind of behavior..

It makes me so angry. Women are discriminated against in a fandom I thought was safe, again and again and again. 

I have to stop here because, well, this is just too much. There is much wrong with Skam (the original AND all the remakes), but there is even more wrong with the fans. I’m done.

You don’t support the show anymore? Fine, then don’t watch it! If I really am wrong, the number of viewers will go down and the show will die, just like you wished. There is no need to be vicious about it. 

I hope y’all are proud of your misogyny. 

Sincerely,

Adler.