#and i think thats the biggest thing with her act

[ninjagotohell]

I just read a whole wacky thread of people arguing which parent was bad Garmadon or Misako and I’m no longer scared of the Misako defenders

[hecksupremechips]

Constantly torn between writing a character to be just a nice guy and writing that character to be the most fucked up creature in existence

[junonreactor]

oh my fucking god

[orchidyoonkook]

PG | KTH

Title: PG 

Pairing: Older Brother's Best Friend!Kim Taehyung x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Touches of Fluff

Summary: You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually.

Warnings: nicknames! a disgusting amount, language, assholes being assholes but being put in their place, brotherly love, sibling antics, tae is a swimmer and knows judo, also a Dan is--for the lack of better phrasing--a high belt level in judo. think of it like a black belt, OC cant keep it in her pants and neither can tae, mutual pining, lots of great gatsby references because I'm tyring to be that bitch (I am joking), tae has tats, OC's brother is an overprotective idiot but we love him anyway, slight physical abuse not by tae or reader or fourteen--basically someone grips an arm too harshly, some panic but no panic attack,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 11,521

Release Date: September 15, 2024. 12:00PM

A/N 1: The biggest most huge thank you to @violetsiren90 for being my sounding board, tech support and beta. She's a real one and y'all are sleeping on her work if you haven't alread read it. Go check her out!

A/N 2: My access to the adobe suite was aha....revoked. So! this is my first time making a banner and divider without photoshop. Therfore, the banner and the divider are a bit different than what I'm used to having XD. Tumblr is also absolutely destroying the qualty which is sooooo great. It looks wonky and blurry to me on desktop but fine on mobile so it is what it is. If i ever get adobe access again I'll probably come back and update the graphics.

Explicit Warnings: *ahem* nicknames, teasing, kissing, biting, marking (several ways), hand and finger kink (duh), voice kinklet (duhhhh), hair 'pulling' (m rec), semi public if you squint, hella foreplay, tae has a big dick, penetrative sex, oral (m+f rec), fingering, handjob?, multiple orgasms, body worship, switch like activities but mostly dominant tae, posessiveness, confessions, reader takes what she wants but so does tae, exhibitionism if you squint, slight cum play/eating, implied squirting, choking, cream pie. Pretty sure thats all of them. i never reailse how many i need to put until the list is done and wow *chuckes while blushing*

“Oi, can you fucking not? My sister’s right fucking there,” your older brother, Fourteen—nicknamed for his forever mental age—ridiculously and unneededly overprotective as always, says.

It is especially unneeded and ridiculous as he’s saying it to Tae, when all he’s doing is taking off his shirt to go for a swim in your pool. Like he’s been doing since you were tweens.

Well.

Since you were a tween and they were nearing the legal drinking age. But that’s besides the point. 

Best friend to your knuckle head of an older brother, you honest to god have no idea how they became friends. 

Taehyung is poetry and jazz and button up cotton shirts. Old book smell and expensive cologne, ringed fingers and whiskey, neat. The kind of vibe someone would get from being raised by a very successful lawyer for a father and a top ranking university professor of literature for a mother, while Fourteen is… your older brother. 

Maybe it’s a younger sister thing to not understand how her older brother has any friends. Considering you grew up with him, know all of his weird and gross habits, have a lovely dash of sibling bullying thrown in that you two share equally, and more. Yet, by some miracle, he and Tae manage to balance one another out. 

Tae—fucking somehow—makes your brother into a more presentable human being. He showers more than twice a week and wears deodorant every day now—even puts the seat down after peeing, a habit you’ve been screaming at him to stop doing since you could use the toilet. While Fourteen gives Tae a rougher edge he previously never seemed to be able to grasp, despite trying his best too. 

For example, the several delicate tattoos he now has all over his body, your favourite of which is an old timey record player on the inside of his forearm. They were something he’d been wanting to do for years, but only finally bit the bullet on and did once Fourteen took him when they were twenty two. 

Since then the collection’s only grown, much to your inner glee and mental dismay. 

And don’t even get you started on the delicate, thin rimmed glasses he occasionally wears—golden and the perfect shape for his face—or the ear piercings that just really fucking cement the tortured poet look that makes your heart clench every. single. time. you look at him. 

Similarly to what it’s doing right now, though no one ever knows due to your truly oscar worthy talent for acting completely oblivious to the beautiful shirtless man about to dive in. Call it over a decades worth of practice, and the fact that it’s also nothing you hadn’t gloriously taken in all teenagehood long. 

Every time you could get it. 

Which was a lot because Tae was on the high school swim team. 

For four years. 

And then the university swim team.

For another four. 

Teenage you was a lucky bitch. Now you’re only blessed with this sight when he comes over to swim laps or attempt to drown Fourteen. Which, admittedly, was still often. But not nearly as much as back then. 

The sight in question however, is curled black hair that frames eyes so warm you swear the sun’s relocated to his irises, and a jawline that makes the Statue of David’s pathetic in comparison. It’s fingers that make your mouth water from the way they flip book pages and thighs that make you think thoughts and things you never thought you would. 

It’s the scribbled text: ‘To err is human; to forgive, divine’ tattooed across his ribs, and a lean torso, muscled but not outrageously so. Just enough to have you forcing yourself not to stare at the delicate lines of his abdomen every time he comes over for a swim. 

Thank god for sunglasses. 

“Nah, I’m sure PG can handle it, Dumbass. I’ve only been using your pool every summer for the last 15 years give or take,” Tae says with a quirked brow and a half smile directed at you. 

Behind your sunnies, you heat up a touch, and internally sigh. Have you mentioned his smile yet? 

Because oh yeah, his fucking smile. 

Tae’s a nickname kind of person, hence why even you call your brother ‘Fourteen’. Taehyung’s called him Fourteen for so long now that calling your brother by his birth name just feels wrong. 

This being said, PG is Tae’s nickname for you. 

It stands for the TV rating ‘Parental Guidance’ because you’re younger by enough that when you were still under the age of 18, they—see: your brother and Tae because they’ve been joined at the hip since they met—were usually assigned babysitting duty. Very much the ‘take your sister with you’ sibling, but they never complained. Not once.

As much as you and Fourteen bully one another, you’re actually quite close when you aren’t verbally sparring—which is where his annoying overprotectiveness comes in. Even when it comes to Taehyung. 

“Yeah, Dumbass,” you copy, earning a smirk from Tae as he leans down to take his shoes off. “It’s just Tae.”

“It’s not about that YN, it’s about respect. You’re my little sister, and Fuckass over here,” you brother jabs a thumb in Tae’s direction, which earns you a second hidden smirk from the Fuckass in question, “Still doesn’t know how to respect that fact even after a decade and a half apparently.”

You shrug as Fourteen finishes his point and narrows his eyes at his best friend. Tae gives him a shit eating grin that screams ‘what are you going to do about it’ and your brother gives him a two fingered salute before shaking his head and taking off his own shirt. 

You take that as your cue to put your head back down because you don’t need to see that. 

Currently in very comfortable linen shorts and tank, you’re sitting on a padded pool lounger, rereading The Great Gatsby for the hundredth time. It’s one of the classics that never gets old for you, has the benefit of being a shorter read—therefore perfect for the poolside—and happens to be the copy Tae’d gotten you for Christmas a couple years ago. Pure coincidence, you tell yourself. Nothing more. 

With the beautiful addition of your very darkly glassed sunnies, it also makes the perfect decoy as you watch Tae over the top of the open book without risk of being caught. 

You firmly follow the rule of a little looking can’t hurt. 

You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up—see: current shirt stripping debacle. It’s not the first nor the last time he’ll do something like it, and you’re pretty sure you and Tae have an unspoken agreement at this point to push as many of Fourteen’s buttons as you can together, just to see how far he’ll let it go before freaking out.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually. 

Despite the flames that rage and roar on in your heart. 

Despite the green light on the dock across the way tackling your brother under the water. 

You hold on. And only in these little moments of in between do you allow yourself to look. Pockets of time where a peek won’t be seen or recorded, and a moment of self indulgence keeps your sanity from trying to escape its tightly locked box.

You look and look and look until the green light is covered in fog once more, and the lid of the box seals tight.  

Another day, another glorious abuse of best friend privileges, Taehyung thinks to himself as he continues his butterfly down the imaginary lanes in Fourteen’s pool. 

He tries to come over at least three times a week. Four or five if he’s able, the more he’s over the higher chance he has to see you, not just Fourteen. But he’s rarely able to these days. 

Though the wind appears to have shifted in his favour today. You’re sitting on the lounge chairs again, reading away in the afternoon sun. 

It’s his favourite view. And it’s sweetened by the fact that you’re in the shorts he loves and reading a book he gave you. Something he’s done since before he could remember, really. 

Christmases and birthdays, he’s always given you a book. Usually a classic, sometimes something else. If it caught his eye or reminded him of you, he’d grab it and save it until the next Christmas or the next birthday, whichever came first. And you’ve always loved them, so he’s never stopped. 

They’re gifts that seem harmless to Fourteen, and for the most part they are. But these last few have been…different. Had deeper thought put into them. The titles, the story lines, the prose. He swears you notice it, but maybe that’s just his own wishful thinking. 

And he sure as fuck can’t be doing any of that. 

This cold water isn’t doing its job well enough.

Finishing his set, Tae swims over to rest before starting on his front stroke. Forearms hold him up on the edge of the pool, his chin balancing on stacked knuckles while his breath catches. 

He also uses this little break as an excuse to talk to you. He only ever freely can when Fourteen isn’t around, and right now his best friend is inside grabbing drinks, towels and probably relieving himself–which, knowing Fourteen—could take anywhere from thirty seconds to thirty minutes. So he has to take advantage of every moment he gets. 

“Got any new recommendations for me PG?” 

Books are an easy starting point when it comes to you. Fourteen may be a graphic novel at best kind of guy, but your brain can’t seem to inhale enough books to satiate it. And just the thought makes his temples rush with heat. 

He should dunk his head again.

You lower your Fitzgerald by one inch and raise an eyebrow to counter it. Just like your brother, you’re always one to give him a hard time. Make him work for every millimeter of ground conquered. And he’s pretty sure you have a smirk hiding behind the pages, though he can’t be certain due to the sunglasses hiding your eyes. 

“Maybe,” you say. “What do I get in return?” 

Answering that question about fifty different ways in his head, Tae decides none can be said out loud. He seriously needs to fucking reel himself in. Fourteen could return at any moment and the last thing Tae needs to have is a problem between his legs because you never make it easy for him. 

But rather than listening to his very rational thoughts and very logical brain, he instead decides to say fuck it, and croons in the voice that used to fluster you as a teenager. 

“What do you want in return, PG?” Hoping to soften you up, even the playing field a bit. 

And it works like a charm. 

Your body releases its tension on an exhale, your page is marked, book set to the side, and your legs extend and stretch before crossing at the ankle. It makes him wonder if your little girlhood crush on him still exists somewhere in the back of your mind. Probably not.

Scratch that. 

Definitely not.  

“What if I wanted a new nickname?” you ask.

Both his eyebrows raise in surprise. “What’s wrong with PG?”

“It makes me feel like I’m eleven,” you explain. And then hit him with a dose of his own medicine as you croon, “I’m not eleven anymore, Tae.”

No you sure as hell are not. And it kills him in a way that has him wanting to die over and over again. 

He could consider it. But he doesn’t think he’ll change it, not when PG can stand for so many wonderful things. Things you would never think he’d let it when addressing you. Things that would have Fourteen trying for drowning attempt number two thousand four hundred sixty three, and succeeding. 

“I’ll think about it—Fair?”

You ponder before agreeing. “Fair.”

“Now about those recommendations…” He reminds you, and that’s all it takes to get you going.

Fourteen comes out about ten minutes later, but by then, Tae has a new list of books to grab from the store, two laps under him with eight more to go, and you’re reading again—one bare leg bent at the knee he’s trying very hard to ignore when he comes up for air. 

By the time he’s due for another breather, you’re talking to your brother about plans for the weekend. 

“I’m going out early on Friday for Rei’s birthday, remember? And I’ll probably crash at her place after,” you say. 

Fourteen is sitting on the second lounge chair across from you, most likely playing a game on his phone if Tae had to guess. But at your reminder, your brother looks up.

“Fuck that’s right. Okay so no dinner then, I’ll just grab something on my way in.”

“Sounds good. What about tonight?”

Fourteen gives it about two seconds of thought. “How about Don’s?”

Your face lights up at the suggestion. “Fuck yes! I’ve been craving their milkshakes for like a week. Hey Tae!” you call to him. “Don’s for dinner? There’s a chocolate shake with your name on it if you’re down.”

Tae pushes himself out of the water onto the pavement and doesn’t miss the sly once over you give him while Fourteen chucks a towel at his chest, covering your eyes with his other hand. 

He catches the projectile before it can knock him back into the pool, and uses it to dry his hair.

“Dude! Seriously? Go find a fucking shirt or something, no one wants to see that.”

You swat your sibling’s hand away and give him a look that screams ‘grow up’ while Tae drapes the towel over her shoulders, a hand gripping at each end. 

“I’m only down if Dumbass is paying,” he says, smirking at your brother. 

“—What—”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” you agree, holding out your hand in his direction. 

“—Hey wait a seco—”

Tae grabs and shakes just to watch the steam flee Fourteen’s ears at the contact. He meets your eyes conspiratorially, and you both nod before rushing Fourteen. 

“—You fuckers!—” is all he gets out before Tae and you are grabbing an arm and a leg each and throwing Fourteen’s fully clothed ass in the pool. 

He curses the both of you out several times as he treads, drenched and dripping, up the stairs and out of the water. Tae throws him the towel. 

“You’ll pay for that, Asshole,” Fourteen tells Tae, and Tae grins. 

“Oh, I’m counting on it. Worth it though.”

“And you!” Fourteen says, eyes on you. “What the fuck dude? The betrayal to your darling, one and only brother hurts. I’m wounded,” he lays it on thick, walking up directly beside you. 

You're a hairsbreadth too late to realize when he shakes his hair out directly over top of you and you shriek, pulling your knees up, protecting the book under your shirt and behind your legs at all costs.

“Fourteen! The book! I will kill you if you damage it!”

Fourteen chuckles. “Payback’s a bitch Little Sister.”

You sneer at him, checking your prized possession for injury. Not a scratch. 

“And sopping wet is your colour, Jackass.”

“Big words for someone who can just as easily be thrown in the pool.”

You pause. Eyeing him directly. 

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

Your brother looks at Tae with an evil plot in his eyes and you screech as they both nod once. You drop your book behind you as they yank you up by your arms and fling you into the pool, too much momentum from them and not enough resistance from you leaving you matching your darling, one and only brother.

As you come up for air, two colossal splashes ricochet from the left and right. Tae and Fourteen having both cannonballed in on either side of you. You choke on splattered water for a second before you’re attacking them with splashes, merciless in your pursuit for revenge. 

“You both suck!” you half giggle half yell. 

“Yet you love us anyway!” your brother falsely—correctly—claims. 

You roll your eyes before trudging out, heavier and dripping with your soaked clothes.

And it's not until weekend plans are cast aside for current memories, Taehyung treating you all to dinner, and you treating everyone to milkshakes, that all is forgiven. 

It turns out Rei’s dad knows the manager of the most exclusive club in the city—Youth—and managed to call in a favour. So now you, her, and your other bestie, Lea, are all on the dancefloor to celebrate her birthday. 

Rei’s first request for the night besides not paying for a single drink, was to dress up in the hottest, sluttiest outfits the club's dress code would allow for. 

This, for you, meant a black, square necked, low cut, and thin strapped satin slip dress that hugged you in all the right ways, matching heels adored with ankle strap bows and a sultry makeup look. Lea chose a dark blue shimmery number with a high leg split, vibrant graphic eyeliner, and wedges, while the birthday girl found the skimpiest forest green mini dress you’ve ever seen paired with heels that wrap ribbons up her legs, and a subtle dewy look on her lids. 

She’s glowing, and needless to say, they both look hot and so do you. 

Rei’s second request for the night was to dance until you either collapsed or threw up, whichever came first. A goal you were all making a steady descent towards as the night progressed. 

That is, until your blood runs cold at the sight of your cheating ex boyfriend making his way through the crowd in a direct beeline towards you. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

You’re alone right now. Rei and Lea are taking a bathroom break. 

You insisted you’d be fine for ten minutes. It was just ten minutes. What could possibly go wrong in ten minutes?

But apparently god just loves to play jokes because here you are, three shots in, not emotionally prepared enough to be near him, let alone speak to him, and by yourself in this huge crowd of strangers while he’s making very good time on his route to you. 

Fuck! You do not want to deal with him right now or—fucking ever, actually. 

He’d cheated on you four times that he admitted too throughout your two and a half year relationship, all while faking being blindingly happy directly to your face. He’d lied to you and hurt you and made you wonder what you did wrong for him to do that to you. It took all of your third year of university and more therapy sessions than you care to admit to realize you were never the problem, and that he was a piece of shit. 

So, with the fifteen feet between you two quickly shrinking, you try your best to hide from him in the crowd, only to run directly into him when you duck past a fellow club goer. 

Son of a b—

“Heyyy Y/N, how’ve you been?” he says like he didn’t destroy your entire sense of self worth for a couple quick fucks. 

You want to down three more shots just to be able to puke all over him. Intentionally, you haven’t seen him in years and just the reek of his stale ass cologne has you close. 

“Fuck off Micah, don’t you have somewhere you need to be sticking your dick—like a garbage disposal?” You snark, doing your damndest to not let him get close. But the throng of bodies surrounding you have other ideas and you’re thrown against your least favourite person in existence.

Delusional as ever, Micah sleezes, “Doesn’t seem like you want me to leave just yet, Kitten,” and you shove him off you as hard as you can while bile rises at the horrible name you used to beg him not to call you. 

You need to get off the dance floor.

Now.

Before you can, Micah grabs your arm and he pulls you back into him, hard.

Tae watches you out of the corner of his eye, wondering why in the hell you came to this club, of all the clubs out there. 

The club he was at. Wearing that and truly testing the limits of his self control.

Music blasts through speakers that move the ocean on the dancefloor. Bodies sway like waves, some crashing into one another with teeth and tongues and passion, others pushing with the current, grinding and gripping and grabbing at anything they can get their hands on. The louder and faster the notes whirl over their swells, the harsher the storm rages on, people flowing in and out of the eye when needed. 

He’s sitting at a booth on a dais high enough to watch you in the hurricane whilst being out of eyesight, notably with one or two faces he barely recognizes enough to most likely be your friends. 

They appear to be currents. They drag you into deeper waters and you let them, helpless to their siren call. Leading you to your place amongst the sea life, and reveling in the way the melodies wash over you again and again with every song that plays. 

His eyes follow you as you dance, curious if Fourteen knows you’re here before flinging the thought out of his head as quickly as it entered. You’re grown now, don’t need protection anymore. A lesson he learned the day you returned from university after graduating. 

No longer his best friend's kid sister who they kept an eye on, but a woman who was and still is growing into herself beautifully. A woman who is steadfast, strong and more often than not, correct in her opinions. A woman who is well read and equally if not more so well spoken when she deigns to acknowledge his existence. A woman who knows how and when to turn all of that off in order to team up with him in a roast battle for the books against her brother. 

He thinks of that day as the beginning of his downfall. 

He can humbly admit that his intelligence, demeanor and education are things that have been nurtured into existence by his parents and carefully maintained by himself with practice and both mental and physical exercise. He takes care of himself, inside and out. Exercises regularly, eats well, has good hygiene. He’s level headed and patient. Respectful and responsible. Controlled and competent. 

He prides himself on these things. Actively works towards keeping them maintained. 

And yet. 

Somehow when it comes to you, he is little more than a single brain celled idiot. 

All of the things he uses to measure his self worth evaporate whenever you enter his field of vision and he becomes fucking ravenous. And all of his focus goes into controlling himself.

He’d never noticed before, never thought of you in the way he does now. How when your currents break from formation and head towards the bathrooms, their outgoing force creates a riptide that some fuckhead with a stupid haircut uses to sweep in and dance with you. 

But you push him away. 

He doesn’t get the memo, and the mophead tries his best to yank you out to sea again.

Magma flows through Taehyung's veins, thunder cracks in his ears and all he can think about is storming through the crowd to steal you from said fuckhead by claiming you for himself.

But he won’t. 

Can’t.

All because of his darling best friend. 

Fourteen doesn’t know about his feelings for you of course. And Tae rather likes being alive and in one piece, two things he most definitely would not remain should he act on any of these feelings.

You are wholly off limits, forbidden. A little too young, a little too immediately related to his best friend, a little too perfectly his fucking type. It kills him every time he can’t even look at you without Fourteen going into what he calls ‘asshole mode’. 

So you remain in his very close periphery. Untouchable to the fingertips he aches to caress you with as you dangle your existence in front of him. Your wicked tongue, your delicious intelligence, your sexy fucking legs—fuck!

He has to stop thinking about you like this.

But that only makes him want you more. 

It’s like the gods handcrafted you for him. Every piece, every detail of you immaculate, but he committed one to many sins in his past life, and now they’ve locked you away forever as punishment. 

You float across the night sky, stuck in a golden cell. Its fourteen bars hold you hostage amongst the stars, all while he’s chained to the bottom of the ocean floor gasping for air. 

But fuck the gods and fuck their gilded cages. 

He’d break from his chains, swim to the surface of the sea and grow wings. Would break your prison apart with the sheer force of his wanting, then drag you down to the depths if it meant he got to keep you for himself. 

He would. He really, really fucking would. If his world wouldn’t implode completely if he did. 

So he keeps these thoughts to himself. Forces them down as they try their damndest to bubble over and burn him, because they will if he lets them. If any of them get outside these little moments, the ones where he allows himself to feel, he would burn and burn and burn until there was nothing left. 

Therefore, Taehyung has never been more grateful that his best friend was stuck on the night shift while he watched you dance and enjoy yourself, because it granted him this sliver of time to pretend like your brother doesn’t exist. 

That you are something he could let himself have, if you wanted him to.

And he’s solid in his decision to only observe, to stay inside his little moment, until fuckhead doesn’t get the message for the third time and Taehyung is out of his seat before he can think. 

Because Fourteen isn't here. 

And old habits die hard. 

“What the hell? Let me go, Micah!” You see his eyes then, red rimmed and glazed. He definitely has more than one thing in his system as his grip on you hardens further. The more you struggle, the tighter he grasps and—ouch, ouch, ouch, yank, fuck! Ow!—it’s really starting to hurt. 

“Just give me one more chance Kitten, I promise I’ll do better,” he whisper in your ear over the music, and you cringe back from how loud he is. But that doesn’t stop him from continuing, “I fucked up, I know I did. But that was years ago, and I learned my lesson. Just one more chance Kitten, just one more, and I—I promise. I promise it won’t happen again. It won’t. I really miss y–AH! What the fuck!?”

The hand on your arm releases the second Micah yelps in pain. You look down to see familiar ringed fingers around Micah’s wrist, clutching so hard they’re white knuckled and skin bruising. 

A broad chest comes to rest at your back, and an arm snakes around you. Its large palm rests on your stomach and hip as it pulls you tightly against its owner. 

Words covered in sharpest ice are spoken from behind you, their baritone so recognizable they have you melting back into him. 

Safe. 

You’re safe. 

Exhale.

“Do. Not. Touch. Her.” Taehyung growls so deeply, so powerfully, you feel the rumble from behind his sternum reverberate into your body. 

Micah’s focus shifts from his wrist to the man several inches taller and several years his senior still holding it. You watch as his face contorts from pained to confused and then to murderous. 

“The fuck are you to tell me not to touch my girlfriend?” Micah seethes, and you stiffen because no the fuck you are not, and haven’t been for several years. 

How blitzed out of his mind is he right now?

You don’t even get the chance to deny his words before Taehyung’s on Micah like fire to dried grass.

“Don’t make me laugh, Asshole. No way in hell an pig faced looking fucker like you could pull a woman like her. Now,” Tae roughly shoves Micah’s hand back to him, and it forces Micah to stumble into the people behind with the force. “Get the fuck away from My Girl before I make you My Problem. And trust me,” Tae says in a tone so dangerous, you’ve never heard him sound so terrifying in the fifteen plus years you’ve known him, “You don’t want me to make you my problem.”

And you realize, that this isn’t the Taehyung you’ve grown up with; seen through his awkward teen years and watched come into his adult life with. This isn’t jazz music and poetry Taehyung. 

This Taehyung has only ever come out the handful of times you’ve ever been in trouble. The one who studied Judo with Fourteen growing up, the one who has his fourth Dan. 

The one who does not play when it comes to you and your safety. 

It’s enough to know that Taehyung is more than pissed off, and more than a little ready to beat the absolute shit out of Micah, if the whiskey on his breath says anything about his loosened inhibitions. 

Micah seems to sense this too, and decides to back off. But not without a stupid macho expression and two middle fingers directed at both of you as he disappears into the crowd, and out of sight. 

You can feel the tension radiating off Taehyung in waves, a coil so tightly wound that a gentle breeze could set him loose, so you turn around and attempt to safely unwind. His hand moves from your stomach to your lower back, and you ignore the trail of wildfire it leaves in its wake because Tae’s eyes haven’t wavered from the spot where Micah just stood. 

“Don’t.” You say, loud enough for him to hear. And his flame filled irises snap to yours, burning. “He’s not worth it.”

Your words seem to bring him back somewhat because Tae sniggers. “Damn right he’s not,” then softens. “Are you okay?”

You look anywhere but at him, the reality of the last three minutes crashing down onto your head like broken glass while the both of you are still caught in the middle of the dancefloor. 

The people around you seem to understand something’s happened, and you’re left mostly untouched aside from the gentle nudges of inebriated party goers whose balance isn’t the best at the moment. 

Like the mellowed waves in the eye of a storm.

Taehyung seems to make sense of this at the same time you do, and lifts his free hand for you to take. Slipping your fingers into his, he leads you to an unused and out of the way emergency exit hallway somewhere in the back of the club. It’s completely empty and dark, undisturbed besides the occasional server passing by. 

It’s private. 

It’s safe. 

You’re safe.

You’re safe.

He lets go of your hand and looks at you again. “Now, are you okay?” 

The adrenaline is wearing off, and you can feel yourself start to shake. You ignore it. Sort of.

“I’m okay,” you say. But he’s eyeing you suspiciously and rightly so, so you repeat yourself, trying to convince your own brain more than his right now. 

“I’m okay, really! I’m good. I’m–” you exhale a shaky breath and he doesn’t ask before pulling you to his chest. Wrapping both his arms around you, one around your back while the other holds your head protectively to him. Your own go around his waist as you grip him back tighter.

“I’ve got you,” he says.

“I’m okay,” you say again, muffled into his black high necked shirt, taking deep breaths of his soothing, familiar scent. You do it and again, and again. Repeating the pretty lie to yourself again and again until it becomes the truth. 

He doesn’t let go until you do, and you don’t let go until you’ve finally stopped shaking.

You look up into his eyes, and all signs of his previous wrath are gone. It seems the hug didn’t ground just you, it grounded him too. Got him out of the headspace that would’ve been required for action first, words later. But now the sun is back, it shines down on you, and you bask in its warmth. 

“I’m good now. Thank you,” you say in an even and unwavering voice, because you are. The panic and immense relief having washed over you, and you’re once again simply, pleasantly buzzed. 

Though you do have a new problem in the form of the warmth pooling low from the feeling of both his hands still on your lower back. 

You’re trying to convince yourself it’s his way of keeping you safe.

But the lock on your box has the key inside it, and it’s just begging for you to turn it. 

“Good,” he replies, still not letting go. And it’s chipping away at your sanity. “Who was that guy? I only caught the last bit of his pathetic ramblings.”

You wince. Due to a lovely combination of not being very active on social media, not being much of a picture taker, and the newly dyed hair Micah seemed to be sporting tonight, you’re not surprised Tae didn’t recognize him. 

“Ah. Uhm…That was...Micah,” you admit, unable to meet his eyes again. That’s when you notice his outfit tonight is all black. 

Oh you are so fucked.

 “As in Micah, Micah?” Tae asks neutrally, familiar with what your ex had done, just not what he looked like. 

“...Yeah...”

“I see.”

“Yeah...” You say again. Because what else could you say?

Tae cracks a smile. “Should’ve let me kick his ass. The balls on him not only to approach you, but to call you his—” he cuts himself off, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing in a hushed, caring tone. “After everything he’s done to you, you should’ve let me, PG. Consequences be damned.”

Your cheeks flame at the nickname so close to your ears. So tenderly said. And you honestly can’t tell if you still hate it in this moment, or if it’s only adding kindling to the fire his hands are fueling at the base of your spine. 

The new name he’d called you earlier, its ignition point. 

My Girl.

My Girl.

You swear, even in your panicked state, you’d momentarily forgotten how to breathe before inhaling far too much all at once. 

Fuck, what you won’t give to hear him say it again. But you’re 98.9% sure that’s the three shots of vodka talking. Trying their best to turn the damn key. And maybe they succeed in turning it half way—hell, maybe all the way, because you look him back in the eyes and hear yourself say,

“Maybe I should’ve, but I was far too distracted by the new nickname you finally gave me to give a single fuck about anyone else.”

The moment the last word is out Taehyung stiffens beneath your touch, fingers locked on your back, and you’re very pretty sure you just fucked absolutely everything up. 

Years of good behaviour, of keeping yourself in check. Of pockets of time and side long glances and knowing nothing would ever happen, stolen from you. By your own big, fat, adrenaline depleted, vodka loosened mouth. 

You're a second away from damage control before his grip shifts from your lower back to your hips. 

Higher. Tighter. Controlling. Oh fuck.

He leans down to murmur, “Liked the new name, did you?” in your ear.

Shivers shoot from your crown to your core and down to your toes. Having his deep, deliciously inviting voice so fucking close to your pulse point has you millimeters away from drowning in it. You know he can feel it course through you, just like you can hear the smile it makes him display away from your eyesight as he does. 

“You did then,” he responds for you, a cat toying with its meal as he lifts his head once more to look into your eyes. 

You don’t need a mirror to know the state of your pupils. Your gaze is glazed over in the sinful kind of way.

“I did,” you needlessly confirm, looking up into similarly blown out ones.

The fingers twined behind him release, and make their way around to his abdomen. They pause to splay for just a second at the defined ridges, before slowly crawling up his chest and meeting again at the nape of his neck. 

They play with the soft hair there, gently scratching their nails at the skin beneath where it grows and you watch as your ministrations cause his eyes to roll back, flutter shut, and his head to meet the wall behind him. A barely audible moan escapes the confines of his lips before he swallows,  the divine bob of his adams apple as he tries to regain his composure is the dawn of your undoing. 

“Fuck, PG that isn’t fair,” he groans towards the ceiling, his hands on your waist clamping down harder, pulling you so close your bodies touch in more places they definitely shouldn’t be. The contact has you reeling and all you want is more, more, more of it. 

More of him.

“PG isn’t the name you called me earlier,” you hum, yanking on a single loose strand and Tae sucks in a steep breath, biting the corner of his smirking lip with a canine. 

You want to hear him say it again. Badly. So you release the sensual grip you have on his nape, and let his head lul slowly back down to where it was, his deepening amber wholly fixated on your now entirely onyx. Your heart is begging for release from your chest, and for a moment you wonder if he can see your pulse thrumming in your eyes, because you sure as hell can feel it.

“No, it’s not. But it also hasn’t meant to me what it means to you for quite some time now,” his voice like honey, thick and dripping its way over your body. It’s making you dizzy and weighty with want. It has your mouth opening slightly as he leans closer still, knocking his nose gently with your own. Inhaling in your exhales. Teasing you. Making you work for it. 

“And what does it mean to you?” you ask, barely above a whisper, irises never straying from his as your bottom lip brushes against his in one solitary, intoxicating moment that has you more buzzed in one touch than three shots has had you all night. 

“Pretty Girl,” he breathes onto your lips, pushing his thigh between your legs at the same time he pulls you impossibly closer. You hear yourself moan ‘fuck’ at the contact it gives your throbbing cunt. Too focused on the need coursing through you like a live wire—your body pure water—to think about what you’re saying.

It’s a sweet sound and a violent pleasure he devours as his lips finally, finally, finally crash into yours, pinning you in place and allowing him to take every piece of you he wants. One hand slithers up your naked spine to hold you, your backless dress doing you every favour imaginable as his other continues to help you grind over his thigh.

His tongue slips into your mouth and you suck on it, causing him to jerk into you once with the rapidly growing want pressing into your lower belly. But your hands hold firm at his neck as you pull him into you, a knee lifting to meet his hip. Needing more contact.

The electricity filled pathways his fingers leave down your back, over your ass and across the bottom of your thigh to support your search for pleasure do nothing but spur on the overwhelming need to touch him everywhere. 

No holds barred. No clothes worn. Nothing stopping you. 

He uses his new grip to spin you around and press his hips into yours as your shoulders meet the wall. You’re left to moan sickly sweet sounds of bliss into his ear as Taehyung frees your mouth in favour of your jaw and neck, sucking gentle purple hues down the column of your throat and onto your collarbone. 

“Pretty Girl,” he whispers between love bites, “My Pretty Girl.” Over and over and it has you melting so far into him, the only thing keeping you apart is fabric and a potential audience. Though from the colour you’re going to have to cover with far too much concealer tomorrow, you don’t think he quite cares about that last part. 

It drives you farther into insanity. Years of want and restraint and pretty white lies you told yourself are crashing down on one another and it shows in the fervor of your touch, your wants, your pleads.

“Fuck, Tae—please. Please, I need you— please,” you beg, and the bite he leaves at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder has you gasping for air that refuses to be consumed gently. 

But Taehyung is a man on a mission. One who will not be deterred, and you can’t tell if he will be your pinnacle or your inevitable end. 

With what is very clearly great effort, Tae pulls himself back from your decolletage, only to kiss your lips once more. Open mouthed and dirty, tongue clinging to you like the only thing he’s concerned about is swallowing down as much of you as he can while you’ll let him, and you’ve never felt more desired in your life.

He’s hoarse as he says, “Not here. Not for the first time. Not…not here.” 

“Then where,” you ask, near impatient and far too eager as you let your hands roam wherever they want. And you find your thumbs tracing the waistline of his pants, dipping a nails width below where they should. They trail over the indented V of muscle you know is hiding under his shirt. He shudders. 

It makes you smile wickedly. 

“Then where, Taehyung,” you murmur into his neck with that wicked smile in your words as you trace your nose along his jaw. 

“Fuck, you’re something,” he says, almost pained, bringing you immense delight. To know you affect him as much as he does you. That you have him as much as he has you. 

Sly hands slowly pull his shirt from his trousers in an attempt to urge him on. It works, and his response is quick. 

“My place. It’s a ten minu—fuck PG,” he almost scolds as your digits toy with the hair at his navel, dipping lower—enough to feel the beginnings of something—but not low enough to discern anything. 

Yet.

 “Can you behave for that long?” 

You smirk. 

Retracting your hands, you hold them up to show you can be good, do a quick once over to make sure you're decent and spin on your heel to walk towards your booth. Tae is behind you immediately, hand placed low on your back, thumb rubbing circles on the sliver of skin it touches. You ignore the goose bumps that arise.

Rei and Lea are at your table, thankfully. You explain to them you ran into Micah and that it really shook you, so Tae’s going to take you home. They know who Tae is, so they’re not worried when they give you goodbye hugs or when they tell you to text them when you're home safe. 

You promise you will, and hope that the rest of Rei’s birthday goes well. 

True to his word, it’s a ten minute rideshare before you’re pulling up to a tall, black windowed apartment building.

You’ve only been to Tae’s a handful of times with your brother, mostly for things like pick ups for concerts and such, but now that you’re here—alone with him—you’re trying hard not to jump him in the fucking lobby. 

The pulsing between your legs has only worsened since you removed your hands from his waistline, and you’re close to crawling out of your skin with need. 

His hand stays in its place at your lower back as the elevator climbs. 

It’s not helping and completely helping at the same time.

Fuck.

Tae lives on the sixteenth floor and the view is incredible. It’s the first thing you see past the island when you walk in the front door. There’s the kitchen to the left past the entrance, which turns into the living space that’s furnished in a way you can only describe as pure Tae. 

Books littering every surface, warm neutral toned furniture to counterbalance the colourful artwork he keeps on the walls. There’s an old record player with a collection of vinyls in the corner and what you assume is this morning's coffee mug on the art book filled coffee table.

To the right of the living space is the bedroom. It’s a studio apartment, but Tae’s managed to keep the flow of the place beautifully with some creatively put, gorgeously decorated room dividers. And the tall floor to ceiling windows wrap around it all, showcasing the lights of the city as they blend into the stars in the night sky. 

Mesmerizing. 

Just like the man locking his door behind you.

A kiss is placed on the back of your neck as you slide out of your shoes at the front door. You angle your head to allow more space, letting the arm that folds around you bring you closer to him. The feel of his arousal begins to grow behind you once more and you push back against him. A faint grunt meets the shell of your ear before his hand delicately slides up from your lower stomach and past your sternum. It teases your neck for just a moment before it meets your jaw to turn your lips towards his. 

He captures them in a brutal kiss, drinking you in for all you’re worth and then some as his other hand replaces the one that now holds your jaw in place. He pulls you into him but you spin in his hold, throwing your arms around his neck once more and dragging him towards the living space. He sheds his jacket in the process, uncaring of where it lands on his floor so long as you are still kissing him. 

You only stop when your ass meets the top of the couch and Taehyung palms the back of your thighs to lift you, your legs wrapping themselves around his hips as you sit on its edge. 

He growls at the contact and it has you raking your nails down his neck and over his shirt as you open for him once more, tongues clashing and teeth scraping at the desperate nature you both share. You yank his shirt up and he breaks from your embrace for only the amount of time it takes for the fabric to hit the floor before he’s back on you, adding twin bruises to the other side of your throat. 

You let the strings holding up your dress fall naturally to the side, revealing your chest to him, and a  low, “Fucking hell,” is murmured somewhere below your ear before a nipple is in his mouth and you’re arching into his touch, slices of need shooting straight downwards. Giving no mercy to your attempts to draw out the pleasure. 

One large hand cups a breast, molding it to his wanting before he switches and you’re groaning into the air above you, begging him for more, determined to have his tongue anywhere and everywhere you can get it. He lavs at your peaked bud, roaming over the sensitive flesh, making you squirm at the sensations he’s drawing from you. 

You never want it to end as he makes his way back up to your mouth, dragging his bottom lip over all of the freshly deepend skin it trails in its wake, making you hazy with the feel of him and his marks. 

His delicate touch wanders the insides of your thighs and your cunt aches for it the higher it climbs. But it slides up not down, reaching around to your ass and hoisting you onto his hips. 

Turning, he walks the eight paces to his bed, places a knee on the mattress for support before setting you down. His lips never leave yours he crawls over you, settling his hips over yours for mere moments, allowing you to thrust only twice before he’s removing himself completely and sinking to his knees. 

The fingers you’ve spent way too much time thinking about can’t get enough of your skin as they skate down your sides, taking the dress bunched at your hips with them. You raise your hips to help him get the scrap of fabric off, leaving a delicate, black lace thong the only thing keeping any of your remaining modesty intact.

You watch as his now fully blackened gaze takes you in, jaw dropped in slight at the sight of you with your legs opened on his bed. Like you were the prize he’s been waiting years to claim, and now that you're here and that you’re his his, he can’t quite believe it. 

It’s then you realize that he wants you, and has been wanting you. That your attempts to stay in reality these last couple years weren’t just harder for you, but for him as well. 

It hasn’t been one sided.

He wants you. 

Taehyung. 

Off limits, older brother’s best friend, swim club participating, jazz and poetry loving, judo knowing, book gifting, perfect smile having, protective, Taehyung. 

Wants you. 

You can physically feel the gush that rushes from your core at the thought and you know Tae can see it through the lace.

“Holy fuck…you’re fucking drenched and I haven’t even properly touched you yet,” he rasps, unbelieving. 

“Then touch me and find out just how much I want this,” you whisper. Begging, pleading, praying your words have their intended effect. “How much I want you, Taehyung.”

The sound that leaves his throat is a mixture of a whimper, a groan, and a guttural noise indicative of pure desperate want as he takes hold of your legs and spreads them further. Those mother fucking fingers trace from your ankles to your knees accompanied by the occasional light kiss, back up your inner thighs, and finally to the spot where you’ve been weeping for him for the better part of thirty minutes with a heaping side of ten years yearned. 

He places one open mouthed kiss on the top of your clothed clit and that simple touch has you arching, lightning crackling through your veins with the pleasure it brings. Tae slides one single finger down your covered slit before pushing it under and pulling it to the side. 

At the mere sight of you he’s swearing so fiercely under his breath that you involuntarily clench and he can’t fucking take it anymore.

His mouth is on you and you buck at the sensation. Yielding you no mercy, his tongue swipes from opening to clit in one long lick that has you gasping, clutching bed sheets above and below your head to keep from screaming. 

“Oh my—Fuck—Tae. Ohmygodohmy—” you’re rambling. Incoherent. A mess. 

He’s consuming your very being, no nerve left untouched, no reaction too minimal for his learning as he snakes his hands around your legs to haul you closer, pull you deeper into his mouth and you can’t fucking take it. You’re screaming out at the intensity he circles you with, and you can feel your impending orgasm come rushing to the surface. You’ve barely even processed it’s begun before you’re spasming so hard Tae has to remove an arm from your leg to throw around your pelvis. 

His devious fucking eyes meet yours for one earth shattering moment as he slips two fingers inside and begins a secondary merciless pursuit on your already overwhelmed senses. Using the pads to press upwards in time to the motions he never ceased with his tongue, a second wave is cresting before the first has ceased and you feel yourself clamping down, legs holding him in place as the intensity of your release climaxes. 

You’ve never felt a pressure so intense before, it’s like your body is a volcano and you’re erupting for the first time while someone sets off fireworks from its peak. The lava flows in waves, your hand holding his hair as you ride his face, shuddering at the vibrations his moan into your cunt leaves on the most sensitive parts of your body. 

Gentle strokes and licks calm as your pleasure begins to wane and you can breathe in more than just stuttered inhales again. 

“Holy fu–” you try to get out, but your voice is hoarse, like you’ve been screaming the entire time. 

And fuck, maybe you have been. You sure as hell can’t remember or think of anything more than the warm fuzzy feeling currently radiating from every single pore in your body. The damningly  deliciously dizzying feeling in your head not allowing for coherent thoughts to pass. Your limbs are loose, your body wholly relaxed. 

You’re…Well. You’re fucking perfect right now. If you could stay in this moment forever you would without second thought. Locked in this room with him for all time sounds like the best way to live out the rest of your days.

Until you wince as Tae blows warm breath on your core and he chuckles, then does it again. 

“Hey,” you say, sounding much clearer now, “Stop that and come here.”

You slip your hand down his face and grab him by the jaw, pulling him up and over you. Tae tastes like fire and whiskey and ambrosia and you as you kiss him with abandon, near feral as you take what you want from him and he revels in it. 

He’s on his elbows and a knee over you, and you use it to your full advantage to palm him over his pants and—Fuck he’s big. No wonder he was so thorough on you. This is going to hurt no matter how much prep either of you did.

He hisses at the contact and that only spurs you on, grasping firmly at his base and roving up and over the head with the heel of your palm, squeezing gently in time with his reactions.

“Christ PG, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum in my pants,” Tae laughs into your neck before rising to sit back on his heels. He gets as far as undoing his belt buckle and button before you take over, sitting up and pulling him out. 

He is disastrously beautiful, just like the rest of him, and your mouth waters at just the idea of him in your mouth. 

Licking your lips, you hear him curse quite colourfully as you take the tip into your mouth and swish your tongue over the head. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

Tae raises one hand to his eyes and the other behind him to hold him up as you take him deeper, shaking from restraining himself so hard, murmuring to himself, “Oh fuck. Fuck me, can’t believe—so fucking good, pretty—perfect—ohmygod,” and you seal the motherfucking deal by taking him into the back of your throat and looking up into his eyes at the same time. 

Taehyung barks and bucks once into your throat before removing himself and throwing you down onto the bed. He looks furious in the way that gets your heart racing, your cunt thrumming and your breathing so fast your chest feels like it might shatter from the crosscurrents. 

He grabs each of your hands and raises them above your head, sliding his fingers up your wrists and between your own, holding them in place on his pillow.

Leaning down, he uses his lowest timber to speak darkly into your ear, teasing your swollen clit with the tip of his cock. Sliding back and forth, sending bolts of white hot need through you. 

“You drive me fucking insane,” he starts, thrusting, teasing, torturing. And you moan at the contact. 

“You make me want to throw away a decades old friendship just for the chance to touch you.” 

Thrust, tease, jolt, whine. 

“And what’s worst of all is you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted, the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and you turn me into a complete idiot the second you enter the room. It’s like your fucking presence takes away all the working functions in my brain and leaves me with only the incurable fucking desire to make you cum until you can’t remember you own fucking name. Only mine.”

Thrust, squeeze, glide, jolt. “Tae...” you whine, delirious with pleasure, drunk on his greed and  delighted by his torture.

“I call you PG because it’s the only way I can get away with calling you anything more than your name around him.” He sounds almost angry with how low he growls. “And it means so much more than you could think.”

He leans further into you, so close now that his lips brush your ear as he speaks. 

“My Pretty Girl,” thrust, “My Precious Girl,” moan, “My Perfect Fucking Girl.” 

He releases one hand to line himself up with your entrance. “That’s who you are to me. That’s what I’m calling you when I call you PG. My Pretty, Precious, Perfect Girl. My Girl.” He slips past your walls, sinking deep and you both groan in euphoric unison. “Mine.”

Tae pulls out, slow and controlled. 

Blissful. 

Then pushes back in, methodically. 

Torturous. 

Feeling every inch you can take, which is every single fucking one.

Inevitable.

Bottoming out for the second time, you whisper, “Yours,” into his ear, and he turns fucking ravenous.

Setting an absolutely ruthless pace, he claims your body, taking what’s so clearly always been his. Your legs wrap around him again, digging a heel into his ass as you drive him closer, harder with every push. Then lay claim to the one thing you’re able to, taking his lips with yours and biting down hard enough to draw the most sinful groan from the back of his throat. Hoarse, deep, almost broken with how raw it is. 

One hand bruises its fingerprints into your hip while the other holds him up over you, and you use this to your advantage, slipping one leg around his and flipping the both of you over. 

You trail your tongue down his jaw to his clavicle, he tastes of sweat and lust and sex and it is the most intoxicating thing you’ve ever consumed. Creating your own gardens of little blooming flowers down one side of his neck and up the other, Taehyung moans greedily into your ear as your ride to match his thrusts, sending him deeper while you decorate your willing canvas. 

Because as much as he wishes to lay claim to your body, you want to claim his as well. 

“Mine,” you say, positioning yourself to take over completely, using the springs of the mattress to do most of the work for you. 

“Yes,” he says. But that’s not good enough. 

“Mine,” you demand, and let loose, pressing down on the mattress with your knees rapidly, creating the glorious effect you wanted. You watch as the up force from the mattress causes Taehyung to be driven into you so quickly he throws his head back, mouth dropped in pure ecstasy. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, YN, What the fuck—” he rambles, lost to the pleasure, biting his lip, going slackjawed, clenching and unclenching his fists into bedsheets that already have your handprints seared into them.

And you keep going, a little torture creation of your own. 

“Mine,” you demand again, and this time, it clicks.

“Yours! Fuck, yours. All yours, only yours,” he surrenders and you slow back down to a regular pace, breathless. 

It’s a great move but it’s exerting. 

You all but collapse on his chest and he takes over, thrillingly pissed off due to your power play. 

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” he asks, and you clench at his tone. 

He removes himself and you whimper, but he’s maneuvering you like a ragdoll on the bed and you’re more than fucking willing to be thrown around. 

He’s kneeling on the bed, lifting your hips and sliding into you in a doggy style, but then he’s doing the most insane thing you think you’ve ever seen. With an arm around your stomach he brings your back to his torso and twists you both to face the open floor to ceiling windows. One of your legs is thrown over his that’s up to splay you wide for the skyline to see, and you can see your reflection in the glass. 

You look beyond fucked out, and so does he, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. But then his hand is sliding to your throat, and a whispered, “Is this okay?” finds your ears. You nod.

Gripping the sides of your throat, he slides his other hand to graze your clit before beginning his own version of the move you just pulled. Pumping into you at a pace that has your g-spot screaming from all of the attention it’s receiving, his fingers swiping deftly over the bundled nerves at the apex of your thigh whilst lightly cutting off the blood supply to your brain. 

It has you twitching and hazy and dizzy in seconds. You can see yourself losing to the feeling so steadily building at the base of your spine in the glass. Mouth open, body willing, the man who’s been at the center of your wanting for longer than you can remember, its deliverance. 

Dark, sex tousled hair, muscled forearms holding you up and driving you insane. Blackened eyes focused on you and only you through the mirror the darkness of the night’s sky has created for you. 

It’s that visual that sets you over the edge when he releases your throat, and you feel a gush flowing from where you two meet.

“Fuuuck yes. My Perfect Girl, cum all over my sheets, drench my cock. That’s it,” he purrs in your ear and it’s doing nothing but sending shock after shock into your already over sensitive and pulsing cunt, letting your consciousness float somewhere above or below you, you don’t really care. 

All you know is that you feel light as a feather and not of this earthly plane. 

Taehyung removes himself and lies you down gently. He’s back inside soon after and it just feels right as he fills you, like it’s where he’s meant to be. 

He hovers over you once more, and you lift a single knee to his hip, mimicking your position from the club as he thrusts into you with fervor, chasing his own high after delivering three mind shattering ones to you. 

Reaching one hand to his cheek, you hold him as he kisses you, working himself to completion. 

Using your other to deliver a few expert circles to your clit, so you can come together, you breathe in each other's release and  drown in once another’s embrace. 

You leave his name on your tongue this time. A gift. A cry so delicate that a tear falls from your cheek and he kisses it away.

Taehyung inhales sharply, before stuttering his exhale and an exquisite warmth fills you.

“F-f-uu-ckkk,” he shudders as he lets the aftershocks of his release claim you in the most basic and animalistic of ways. You drink in the vulnerable sound, taking his mouth with yours one final time as you bask in each other's pleasure. Silent but for catching breaths, exertion evident as you hold one another. 

Taehyung rests on your chest. Lines are sketched gently with your nails up and down his spine and into his hair as he comes down, content in the afterglow, where nothing is wrong and everything is perfect. 

Before consequences kick in and regrets form. 

When he decides he’s ready, Tae lifts and removes himself from you and you can feel the remnants of your combined efforts slide down to the bedsheets. 

Tae takes a single finger and gathers it up before pressing it back in. You hiss at the now tender flesh. Though the pain doesn’t stop the warmth newly pooling at the sight and feel and meaning. 

He pumps it back in once, twice before removing his finger and placing it in his mouth to clean off. Your cunt flutters at the sight and Tae smirks, leaning forward to share his findings with you in the form of a filthy, open mouthed, tongue filled kiss. It’s slightly salty, slightly metallic but you pull him back for one last lick when he tries to pull away. 

Watching him kneeling there, in the glow of moonlight, you realize just how truly beautiful he is. The shape of his illuminated profile, the expanse of his chest as he breathes in, the colour of his skin under silver rays. He’s stunning. 

You smile up at him, spent, sated and so astronomically fucked if your brother ever finds out. 

Tae must see the thought on your face, because he says, “Don’t worry about him. I’ll handle it.”

But you honestly don’t give a fuck about that right now. That’s a tomorrow issue. What you want to know is, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what, exactly?” He specifies. 

You sit up, eye to eye as he sits on the edge of the bed, one leg on the ground. 

“All of it. Any of it.”

There. 

Now it was out in the open. And the rest is up to him. 

You could drag yourself back down to reality. Chalk this night up to booze and bad timing and perfect timing. Could convince yourself it was just one night and that it would have to be enou—

“All of it,” he interrupts, the most sincere expression you’ve ever seen on him on full display. “Definitely all of it. Every last fucking word.”

You slump on your exhale, so fucking relieved you didn’t have to keep trying to lie to yourself that you could forget this happened. 

You’re laughing before you can fight it off, shoulders shaking. Smiling so wide it hurts. 

“Uh..YN?” Tae asks, clearly not sure how to take your reaction and you compose yourself. 

“That’s PG to you,” you say as you crawl onto his lap, and kiss him into oblivion. 

It’s interesting to finally sit on the dock across the way in East Egg. 

The fog is gone, the sky is a brilliant blue, and the little box you kept sits open next to you, the lock and its key lost somewhere to the depths below your feet. Funny how harmless it seems now that there’s nothing locked inside anymore, like it could never really have hurt you in the first place. 

You take in your newly emptied creation, and quirk a brow when you see it move. 

A wiggle at first, before it’s shaking and spinning and shrinking, turning from a box into a glass windowed locket. Golden and delicate and beautiful, with a matching chain. You ponder for a moment what it could be for, before turning to look down at the green light to your right. 

An idea strikes. 

Unclasping the little window, you lift the opened pendant to the green light. And to your delight, the emerald hue hops into its new home, closing its tiny windowed door. 

You smile at the clever little light, lacing the chain around your neck, resting it on the middle of your sternum, right above your heart. Its brilliant hue shining brightly through the pane for all to see.

Funny how the green light you so longed for, longed for you back, and is now yours for keeps.

A/N 2.5: This is what has been rotting in my brain for the better half of two weeks so please enjoy, it was supposed to be short and trope filled to cure my writers block but apparently I am incapable of short. But trope filled it clearly is. Overall tho, I'm quite pleased with this one.

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

Masterlist

[seancekitsch]

Hazbin Hotel—Lucifer x Reader where he’s a love struck fool for reader? May or may not be inspired by that little imagine you posted not too long ago \(//∇//)\

uhhh this kinda got away from me. enjoy!!

You’d have to be a fool not to notice how the King of Hell acts around you, even Angel and Husk told you that. But you’re not blinded to situation, you know exactly what’s going on. You rest your elbow on the bar next to Angel as Charlie gathers the hotel residents and staff, a job not unlike herding cats. Everyone trickles in slowly, waiting for the next odd trust bond activity Charlie has come up with now. Last week was heartfelt letter writing, and the three of you at the bar had not taken it seriously. You handed Husk a comedic inner monologue about how much you needed to pee, Husk handed Angel a surprisingly detailed made up story about a talking whisky bottle, and Angel handed you a list of what roles he’d cast the entire hotel in a porno.

“What do you think they’ll have us do this time?” Husk mumbles to you, topping off your drink.

“Honestly, not a fan of the way Princess is smiling right now,” you answer.

Charlie waves everyone over, and Vaggie smiles uncomfortably, ready for everyone to start.

“Okay Good Afternoon,” Charlie starts, practically bouncing, “Today we’re going to try to form new bonds!”

Immediately, she’s met with groaning and mumbling, but thats never stopped her and it won’t today either.

“So what better way to do that then having a buddy for the next twenty four hours!” She shouts, and Vaggie’s face immediately makes sense.

“I’ve separated everyone from their regular group so they can build these bonds and be open!”

“…got something you could open…” you hear Angel mumble under his breath.

Charlie gives her dad a thumbs up.

“The first pairing is… my dad and Y/n!”

The Morningstar family sucks at being subtle or lying.

“So what did you have planned for the day?” Lucifer asks while sitting beside you, his voice short and clipped, his entire demeanor like he’s on high alert. It’s cute, really.

“Ah don’t worry about it,” you shrug, “What does the areat King of Hell do with his day?”

Lucifer rubs his neck, fidgeting under your question.

“It’s not… Its not actually all that interesting,” he admits, “You’ve probably got something cooler going on.”

There’s something he’s avoiding besides your gaze, but you don’t press the issue.

You look across the lobby to Angel, who pauses his conversation with Vaggie to mouth something that looked like the word “fart” to you, and then wink.

Your art gallery. Right.

“Have you ever been to Pentagram City’s biggest art gallery?” you ask him.

Lucifer is a gentleman. You understand how he stole the first man’s first two wives from him. Sure, he’s stumbling and stuttering and a nervous wreck, but he’s holding doors open for you and asking about your thoughts and feelings about the pieces on display, he’s accidentally on purpose almost held your hand three times now. Next time he does it, you’re just going to grab his damn hand.

You stare at the sculpture in front of you, noting that you should have someone move this to a different room. In fact, there’s a few things you’ve noticed while showing Lucifer the art that you should have moved around. Maybe you’ve been neglecting the gallery a bit more than you thought now that you live at the hotel.

“Hey, Can I ask you about these?” Lucifer’s voice booms from the next room over. Sighing, you type a quick note into your V-Phone and turn.

Oh shit.

Lucifer found THAT room.

You cross the threshold into the room you never go into, the room with your own work. Honestly, it’s not even curated the way the other rooms and floors are. This is where you put anything that you think can leave your studio. He’s in front of one of your biggest paintings, and one of your newest. It’s an abstract piece about your feelings about redemption, about your past sins, about adjusting to the hotel. Which it sounds stupid when you put it like that, but it made sense in the moment and you’re proud of it.

He turns and smiles before looking back at the painting.

“Is the uh, is the artist willing to sell this piece?” he asks, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning red.

Now it’s your turn to get nervous. You’ve never actually sold any of your own pieces before.

“I uh- I’m not gonna sell it to you,” you tell him, “You can have it.”

It would be weird to take money from Lucifer, even if he is offering. You like him a decent amount and a transaction between the two of you would make it weird. It would feel like you owe him, even though your art would technically satisfy that. If he was one of the Vees or someone you dislike, you would have immediately taken money.

“But the artist-“

“Me,” you clarify, and you finally remember you don’t tag your own art. Lucifer’s jaw drops at your admission.

“I’d really like to support your work, it’s magnificent,” Lucifer insists, and you feel your cheeks burning. He turns to gesture to another piece, and his knuckles brush your own.

Fuck it. You told yourself you’d do it. You grab Lucifer’s hand in your own, a bold move.

“Just think about it as a gift,” you tell him, “A thank you for the lovely day we’ve had.”

You inwardly cringe, knowing that when you recount today at the lobby bar your drinking buddies are going to tear you a new one for that corny line. But it fits for Lucifer; he’s bringing out a side of you that you really haven’t seen in a while.

“Thank you uh, gorgeous,” he tacks on the pet name like even he isn’t sure about it, and with his hand still in yours, attempts to lean against a sculpture, stumbling as he misses it and bringing you along with him. He tugs you by the arm, jerking you closer to him. He’s majorly out of practice.

“I have a studio upstairs if you want to see more?” you offer, not really sure if you thought that through.

“More art? Absolutely!” He recovers quickly, enthusiasm dripping from his voice.

You smile as you pull him towards the hallway, butterflies in your stomach as it dawns on you that he’s going to be the only person besides you to see the studio.

You and Lucifer end up staying there until Charlie calls him the next morning.

You notice paint on his chin after you get back to the hotel.

[itsss4t4n]

Hi!! Could I get some harry hook x male!reader where reader is the eldest child of Anna and Kristoff please? Also maybe reader looks just like his mum but acts like his dad? Thanks and sorry if it's too specific fjdjdjvjs

Always - Harry Hook x male!reader

a/n: I honestly think that reader personaliy is more like anna han kristoff. somehow i really struggled wih that. i lowkey hate this but i still hope you enjoy his <3

warnings: no use of y/n, making out, small fight/angst, ew emotions, I love some good drama, i hate this tbh, not proofread

When Mal decided to open the barrier forever, it was cerainly an adjusment for everyone.

The Vks that came over to auradon were enrolled into auradon prep and all assigned an auradon student to help them settle in and answer any questions they might have.

You weren't the biggest fan of that arrangementt. Not because you didnt like or trust the vks, you were actually quite close with all of the cour four. You just werent a big people person. So having to share your dorm with someone you dont know and most likely having them at your side 24/7? Not ideal for you.

Especially when you heard who you were going to be paired with. 

But Mal had basically begged you to help. 

"Please. I know you dont like this but he is kind of difficult and i know that you could handle him. I dont know anyone else that could."

So you reluctantly agreed.

Mal was right. Harry Hook was certainly difficult. He was really stuck in ways and refused to change. He refused to follow any rules, he was mean and he hated school. And the worst thing? He was stupidly hot.

Now, you hated school just as much, and you did skip a few lessons here and there but you had respect for your teachers and your peers. And you knew that unfortunately school was important for your future. 

Usually you couldnt care less if other people got on trouble but harry was your responsibility now, so everytime he got into trouble, you were getting dragged into it. And you hated it.

So thats how you ended up in fairy godmothers office for the 7th time that week (it was thursday) sitting next to Harry, who just looked bored while you were about to beat him up.

This has been happeneing for almost 3 months at this point.

"This can not keep going on. Harry If you cannot follow the rules and integrate yourself into Auradon then we might be forced to take stronger action." 

Back in your dorm Harry threw himself onto his bed.

"Well that a tad overdramatic aye?"

You couldnt hold it in anymore. 

"HARRY! THIS IS NOT A GAME! YOU KEEP GETTING IN TROUBLE SIMPLY FOR THE SAKE OF IT AND YOU HURT OTHERS. ARE YOU AWARE OF THE FACT THAT YOU ARE BASICALLY A FEW OFFENSES AWAY FROM EXPULSION?! AND IF THAT HAPPENS YOU BASICALLY HAVE NO CHANCE ANYMORE TO DO ANYTHING! NOT ONLY THAT BUT YOU RUIN MY REPUTATION WITH YOUR BEHAVIOUR AS WELL. JUST THINK ABOUT SOMEONE ELSE THAN YOURSELF FOR ONCE IN YOUR GODDAMN LIFE!"

Without looking at him you stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind you.

The rest of your day was spend ranting to Mal and Evie about Harry.  Mal hat texted Uma during your rant, telling her to speak with Harry. He would probably listen to her. She was his best friend after all.

You dreaded going to bed that night. Just being in the same room with him.

Uma left your Room just before you arrived, so when you entered Harry was sitting on his bed, a conflicted expression on his face. 

You decided to ignore him, just grabbing a pair of sweatpants and heading to the bathroom to change for bed.

When you exited the beathroom agin harry had also changed into sweatpants. GREY sweatpants.

Fuck. Was he trying to kill you?

His head perked up at the sound of the bathroom door. 

"Hey..."

You looked over at him.

"What Hook?"

He looked a little conflicted still, which confused you. Why the sudden change in mood?

"Look... I'm nae good at this but- fuck..." He sighed exxasperated. "I wanted to apologize."

You head snapped to him again In surprise.

"What?"

"I acted like a total dickhead." He started ranting, trying to get it all outbefore he mentally talked himself out of it. " I didnt care how I might hurt ya. And I don't even have a good reason for that. I was just scared. I was scared of being vulnerable. All I have ever known was the Isle. I am used to hiding myself behind a Tough outside and I was scared to change from that."

Harry quickly wiped his eyes of the tears swimming in them, hoping you wouldnt notice. But you did.

You were shocked by his sudden and surprisingly honest outburst. For a few very long seconds you just stared at each other.

"Harry...." You took a slow step towards him. "I'm sorry. I should've realized how hard this would be. And I know it will be difficult, but i promise you that from now on you wont have to hide anymore. You're safe here." 

Now, standing right before harry, you layed your hand on his shoulder. Harrys eyes met yours, once again swimming with tears but a small smile gacing his lips.

"Thank ye."

You reached up to wipe the tear that had fallen from his eye, your hand resting on harrys cheek, his head leaning into your touch.

You noticed how close you two had gotten. Your eyes flickering from harrys eyes to his lips for a split second.

"Harry?" Your noses brushed against each other ever so slightly.

"Yea?" His voice was barely a whisper.

"I really hope I'm not reading this wrong," You voice matched his. "but can I kiss you?"

Harry was silent, and for a few excruciating second you truly thought you were wrong. Harry was into guys, you knew that much. He didnt hide that part about himself. But did he like you?

"Yes please." 

A small sigh of relief left your mouth as you leaned in, your lips moving against his. Harrys hands moved to your hips, gripping at the exposed skin, thanks to your lack of shirt. In turn your hands wrapped around his neck, your fingers gripping onto his hair.

When you parted for air, you kept your eyes closed, your foreheads leaning against each other. 

For a few seconds all you could hear was you heavy breathing and your own heartbeat, loud in your ears, before Harry leaned in and kissed you again. His hands pulling you flush against his bare chest by your hips.

Once again you pulled back, this time a little more, looking into each others eyes.

"Thank ye, darlin"

"Always."

[inuyashaluver]

MORE MAYA PLEASE 🙏🙏

handsy - maya le tissier

maya le tissier x reader

description: in which your best friend is an extremely handsy defender, completely testing the limits of your friendship when you contemplate if it really is platonic

warnings: nothing really!

a/n: you do not have to tell me twice. maya le tissier has my heart. thank you and please enjoy! ❤️ i haven't written for maya dearest in soooooo long, it was much needed!!

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

maya le tissier has a problem, and it was a problem she didn't even know she had.

she’d been told by countless people that this problem was going to lead her into trouble, but how was she supposed to fix it if she didn't know what the problem was?

this problem that maya had, you were no stranger to, in fact you were the one always caught in the crossfire of it. and this was your best friend’s incredibly handsy self.

maya le tissier was extremely touchy and affectionate with everyone, but mainly you, and it was starting to drive you insane.

—

it’s always been like this, being best friends with maya and then questioning your whole relationship with how touchy she was.

whether it was a simple touch on the arm or a prolonged hug that had your heart beating out of your chest, you were confused. she was confusing you. heavily.

you both met in the youth england teams, bonding because you were the same age. both similar yet different, a perfect balance that had many people envious of the relationship you had carefully constructed with each other.

ever since you were both 15, you've pulled your hair out in frustration over the brunette, something she wasn't even aware of.

“hey, babe” maya flopped down next to you in your cubby at the u17’s lionesses, she placed a warm hand on your thigh, kissing your cheek gently.

your cheek filled with pink from the contact of her lips against your skin, desperately hoping she doesn't point out how flushed you looked right now.

“hi, may” you chuckle, feeling maya’s arm slip behind you around your back, pulling you directly into her side. “you look gorgeous, as usual” she smiles, gently budging your shoulder with hers.

you look over at her in surprise, flattered by her words but also incredibly shy about them.

“i’m wearing the same thing as you” you point out, a hint of teasing laced in your words. “yeah but you always look way better” she winks, her arm moving from your back to rest on your thigh, fiddling with the end of your shorts.

your breath hitched a little, was she clueless or was she strategic?

“you okay?” she asks, handing your your water bottle, “you look a little flushed” she said with genuine concern, answering your earlier question, the girl was clueless.

“i'm all good! just a little warm” you excused, fanning your hands for added effect, maya’s eyebrows quirk but she chose to believe you.

the brunette grabbed a random paper from the cubby next to yours, fanning you down diligently, asking you constantly if you were okay. and if this doesn't sum up your ultimate confusion with your best friend, you don't know what will.

—

you were both signed to manchester united as well as the senior england team so that bond between the both of you only grew tenfold.

it was impossible for the two of you to be apart, mainly because you now lived together and that was an ultimate struggle.

each and every moment of your lives were together, it was a rare occasion to see the two of you separated, and thus, the rumours surrounding your relationship only grew larger, it was really taking its toll on you.

the thing is, there were numerous moments where you truly thought maya liked you back, how could you not?

there were occasions where she looked at you in a way that made your heart flutter, the petnames, the acts of service, and especially the way she would talk about you in interviews.

—

“yeah, thats a great question! i definitely think my biggest form of motivation is my (y/n), shes absolutely amazing inside and out and i just love her. to be honest, i don’t think i would be where i am without her and i know it's the same for her, well i hope” she laughs, thanking the interviewer again for the question.

ella and alessia, the ones that had to see everything under the magnifying glass knew this would drive you insane.

they sent you the video before having a group facetime call where they intricately analysed each word, each facial expression and they concluded the girl was in love with you.

and you concluded that you were in love with her, and something needed to happen, immediately.

—

you were at camp with england, mary begging you and maya to join alessia and her in a tiktok video, something about hot shots?

you weren't really listening, maya was drawing shapes on your back and therefore no coherent thoughts were present in your mind, and so here you all were, set up in a line in front of mary’s phone.

you and maya couldn’t stop giggling in the corner, making mary and alessia stare at you both with amused smiles until you nudged maya’s thigh with your own, hushing your giggles as best as you could.

“now that they're done, hello everyone, we’ve got a challenge for, me, alessia, maya and little (y/n) today” mary snickers, you scoff after she finishes her sentence.

“alright?” alessia chuckles, “what did you call me little for?” you point at mary, making her press her finger against yours that you couldn't help but laugh at.

“you’re the youngest” mary teases, “maya is three months older than me?” you exclaim, nudging maya for backup but the girl only gave you a cheeky smile back.

“oh whatever, go on” you roll your eyes, maya grins at you, squeezing your hand quickly before letting it go.

“we’ve got, hotshots, like the hotshots we are” everyone giggles, mary ripping them out of the package and giving one out to each of you.

“here, babe” maya grabs yours out of your hand, smiling at you before shaking both of your little bottles.

“she can’t shake her own bottle?” alessia teases, making maya giggle shyly while shaking her head, “nah, she gets princess treatment from me” maya winks, making you slap maya’s thigh with utters of “i do not!”.

maya puts one in between her thighs and opens yours, giving it to you before she opens her own. “i can smell it from here” alessia grimaces, “yeah, alessia eats with her nose” mary teases, maya smells it herself and coughs a little, pushing your hand down when you went to smell it yourself.

“love, it’s gross, don’t” maya says protectively, leaning forward to adjust herself, she placed her hand on your knee and as she sat back properly, her hand slid up from your knee all the way to your thigh, making you freeze in your spot.

maya looks at you questioningly, “i’m fine, i can just smell it” you lie, maya smiles at you, “gross, right?” she smiles, making you nod along with her.

“(y/n), i know exactly how it's gonna taste and i don't want it” alessia shivers, making you giggle at her. maya stares at you while you giggle, grinning brightly at seeing you so happy.

“less, if i do it, you do it” you laugh, making the blonde groan but agree.

“my god, we need (y/n/n) around more, look how fast lessi agrees and how excited maya is” mary says to the camera. “right, let's go!” mary demands.

you all grimace but begin to drink the shot, maya drinks it quickly and begins to laugh, coughing as she got up from the frame.

mary and alessia begin to laugh, promptly making you laugh as you watch maya. maya scrambles to get her bottle of juice from your bag, continuing to cough.

“you okay?” you grimace, the ginger burning the back of your throat, maya nods, “it got up my nose” maya chokes out, drinking the juice.

you finish your shot as maya comes back to sit next to you on the bed, “god, you're like a baby” you scold, lifting your hands up to cup maya’s face, wiping off the remaining shot and juice off her nose and her lips.

maya lets you do it with no complaints, watching you with a smile as you still taste the shot in your mouth.

when you drop your hands, maya lifts up her own, squeezing your cheeks together teasingly before putting the bottle of juice in your mouth.

her arm coming around your back to draw comforting circles on your back as you had the juice, passing it to alessia when you were done.

maya giggles as she makes fun of mary, drawing you closer every couple of seconds. “lessi, you need to finish it” you say to her, alessia shakes her head.

“no, i don't want it” alessia says with disgust, “come on, less, please” maya says, joining you in convincing the blonde, alessia rolls her eyes but does it anyone, getting a cheer from the three of you when she finished it.

“i’m so proud of all of you for that” mary mocks, ending the video with goodbyes and maya tackling you to the bed, claiming that now she was traumatised from the shot and needed comforting.

mary hops on both of you while filming it while alessia laughs in the back, distantly saying “such a third wheel!” making mary laugh when maya pressed a firm kiss to your cheek.

let’s just say you replayed each and every interaction that night before you went to bed. maya liked you back and you needed to do something about it.

—

a couple months later, you were back in manchester with maya, waking up early for training to make you both some breakfast.

“good morning” maya yawns, placing a hand on your hip with a kiss to your cheek, you let out a shaky breath before replying.

“morning, love, breakfast is there” you nod your head to the kitchen island, maya gasps in appreciation, thanking you and kissing your cheek repeatedly, pulling giggles out of you.

after you both finished eating, she just answered some texts on her phone as you stared at her, “you okay?” maya chuckles, glancing over at you, turning her phone off and swivelling her chair to face you, prompting you to do the same.

you don’t know where the surge of confidence came from but something came over you in that moment.

“can i try something?” you ask slowly, maya nods without hesitation, “whatever you like” she says sweetly, slightly moving closer to you.

you let out a quick exhale, swallowing the lump in your throat. there was so much riding on this, you could lose her forever or you could have her forever, and it was all on this.

but you couldn’t back down now, you owe it to yourself to do this. “if you hate me forever after this, i’m sorry for it now” you say wearily,

“babe, i could never hate you, it’s literally impossible” you says with full confidence. you nod at her, your eyes flickering between her eyes before quickly dropping to her lips and then back up.

she gives you a soft smile, you’re both on the same page. she wants you to make the first move.

you bite the bullet, surging forward to press your lips against hers, feeling them move together in sync without an ounce of hesitation. you both wanted this.

her hand cupped your chin and she stood from her chair, standing between your legs as she continued to kiss you. she places a hand gently on your thigh, your own arms wrapping around her neck softly.

she hums against you, kissing you sweetly with a smile lightly playing at her lips, making you chuckle against her.

she pulls away softly, bumping your nose cutely with yours as she giggles to face you. “you finally caught on, huh?” she teases, you roll your eyes, making maya pull you into another kiss, this one more purposeful and passionate before she pulled away again.

“you could’ve said something” you mock, maya interlaces your hands together, kissing the back of it gently.

“i said it everyday, i just wanted you to come to me in your own time” maya smiles, pushing a stray hair off your forehead.

you smile at her but almost sadly, the thought of both you and maya’s pushing your feelings away for so long.

“but what if i didn’t say anything?” you frown, gently caressing her face with the pad of your thumb, tracing over her cheek, maya smiles at you, moving closer to you.

“but you did, baby” she says softly, pecking your lips gently, “and it’s okay if you didn’t, i would just be your best friend and that’s it” she says earnestly, you pull her in for a hug, a tight one.

she gently sways you side to side as your legs slightly wrap around her waist. “i love you” you sniffle, maya tears up herself, kissing your cheek as she moved back.

“i love you” she says looking right into your eyes, kissing all over your face before settling on your lips, kissing them a couple of times before hugging you again.

“as much as i would love to kiss you all day, we have training” maya groans, grabbing both of your hands to help you down off the chair.

“so you wouldn’t kiss me all day?” you gasp mockingly, giving her a teasing smile, maya rolls her eyes affectionately, pinching your hip warningly.

“i would love nothing more, but we have a job to do, we can kiss all night” she winks, pecking your lips before ushering you out the door.

—

you’ve now been dating for over a year and have never been happier. the amount of relief everyone felt when they found out you were now dating was quite funny.

now everyone just had to get used to more flirting then usual but it was worth it, especially since you and maya were so happy.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill, just pretend it’s you! ily lessi x

liked by alessia and 44,232 others

mayaletissier: i know im supposed to watch the game but she’s incredibly distracting

view all comments

yourname: yeah sure, IM the distraction

↳ mayaletissier: you are, my love

↳ yourname: so sweet you are

alessia: they grow up so fast

↳ maryearps: our kids are big girls now 🥺

↳ mayaletissier: adults but okay xx

[kaisfruit]

Hiiii loved your first first about kai!

Could I request a one shot or headcanon about each of the ninja and how they would pleasure a fem!reader pls?

How they pleasure you | All ninja x fem!reader headcanons

a/n: omg tysm for my first ask <3 this is like,,one of the few times ive ever written nsfw so!! i hope its okay :3 also im gonna leave out lloyd cuz ik technically he's an adult but idk it's still a bit weird imo warnings: nsfw under the cut (duh),cunnilingus (cole, zane, nya) , slight size kink mention in cole's part, degradation in kai's part, inappropriate usage of elemental ability (jay), umm thats all i can think of im srry if i missed anything ^^

Cole

Ugh idec he's a big guy. is that a collective hc that the whole fandom can agree on? i think so

def uses that size to his advantage when y'all are alone together

I'm talking like MANHANDLING

only if u ask tho cuz cmon we all know he is such a caring guy he would always take your wants and boundaries into account

okay, my horrible down bad size kink out of the way-

mans has a big appetite (wink wink)

goes down on you like no other. like, he treats your pussy like it's breakfast, lunch, dinner, AND DESSERT babes

there would be no breaks with him. i cant say this enough, but he is eating you out like a man starved

overstimulation bound to happen srry i dont make the rules

he would NOT ask for anything in return

this man is the biggest giver when it comes to sex oh my lorddd

you're in charge but like he is if you know what i mean?

like he does what he knows you love, but on his own terms

ur in the bed and he's just instantly pinning you down yk using that strength of his, spreading your legs as far as the can go, and boom diving in head first

srry i could fill up like 3 posts of just cole eating you out im that passionate abt this topic

Kai

Plays with your pleasure like it's a damn toy

This man is the biggest tease ever

Though, his teasing does lean a bit towards minor body worshipping bc he's just everywhere

Marking you up with hickeys wherever he can get his damn mouth

Hands? can barely keep track of their movements. One second they're playing with your tits the next he's two fingers deep in your pussy

Let's just say he's taking his time here just to make the actual sex feel absolutely amazing on your end

But rlly it gets him going seeing you all whiny beneath him at his never ending touches

it's a win-win if you think about it

THAT DAMN MOUTH.

kai is not the guy for u if ur not down for a bit of degradation because DAMN

he has to come second place to jay in the yapping awards bc he's always saying smthn during the act

he pays attention though. listens or feels your reactions to every filthy thing he whispers to you.

absolutely ruins u for anyone else. gl w this man yall <3

Zane

He is so damn PRECISE??

Like, how does he know exactly how to touch you in that spot in order to get that reaction?

LOVES i mean like absolutely LOVES fingering you

being able to watch you come undone on just his fingers? god it is everything to him

will also add his tongue into the mix bc even tho hes a robot he cannot get enough of ur taste

just so calculated w every movement

bro made sex into a science 😭😭

tells you how good you're doing for him, how perfect you look, etc.

loves praising you bc it's the honest truth of how he feels about you

tbh 50% of the pleasure he gives u is from the pure love u can feel with every slight touch, every kiss, everything

soft dom vibes iykwim

REFUSES to even try to get himself off if he hasnt attended to you first

also an extreme giver like

he would get rid of entire body parts if it meant making u feel even better during sex

okay thats hyperbole but like

this nindroid has so much love in his robot heart for u and he needs u to KNOWWWW

Nya

A GIRL'S GIRL U ALREADY KNOW WHAT IT IS

she has all of these boys BEAT when it comes to pleasuring u bc of her same gender advantage

her head will stay in between your legs until you are absolutely SCREAMING her name

that fact fills her with immense amounts of pride btw

i see her as giving u a good mix of gentle and rough touches that like come together to make the most intense feeling ever??? if that makes sense

she's so good w her mouth like,,,everywhere

her favorite place to have her mouth is on ur pussy ofc, but she could also give a vampire a run for their money with how attached to ur neck she is

marks litter your neck

she's so good at finding that one little sweet spot that makes your body squirm

tends to multitask as well

like if she's currently a knuckle deep in your hole then you can also probably find her mouth licking and sucking at one of your nipples

everything she does to you is just so confusing in the best way possible

Jay

everything with him is just so fast-paced

he barely gives you any time to catch your breath in between anything

just one thing after another with jay

it mostly comes from his overzealous nature

your body makes him feel like a kid in a candy store im not even gonna lie. there's so much he could be doing he doesn't even know where to start

constantly talking. what did you expect from the motormouth himself?

half of it's mumbles of how gorgeous or how breathtaking you are and the other half is just downright filthy

honestly that second part would be such a turn on cuz u wouldn't have expected it from jay

the first time he used his element on you it was an accident

he didn't even realized it happened at first. he felt you jolt at the sensation and his first instinct was to apologize instantly, but he never even had a chance as he felt how you clenched down on his fingers and the moan u let out would forever be ingrained in his brain

from that point on, he's constantly looking for the best opportunity to let the smallest current just give a little tingle to your skin

jay really knows how to keep things interesting <3

[donutz]

Anxiety Love Languages Headcanons :PP

Heh.. Guys I'm still alive😈😈

You are the love emotion!!

— You can be slightly flirty at times, but it isn't that bad

Warnings: Mentions of reader and Anxiety being humans, and reader being biologically a woman, but reader is mainly just gender neutral; slight 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 mentions, but no nsfw;

♥ Physical Affection

This is her main love language

The order of the love languages are the ones she shows the most to least

When she’s worried she grabs your hand, arm, wrist, etc.

She really appreciates it when you assure her that the affection she shows isn’t too much(If you like physical affection)

Most of the time she feels panicked she just really needs a hug

Feeling your warmth calms her down, a lot

There was this time you were messing with her hair, and separated it into two pigtails

It made the both of you laugh because she looked like a rabbit

You’re hugs and cuddles are definitely better than her massage chair

Speaking of her chair, you guys read books, cuddle, and listen to one another while sitting on it

At times she doesn’t need her massage chair, she needs you.

When you guys are first getting into being together, she would be afraid to ask for physical affection, worried it might make you uncomfortable

Riley being happy just makes you two look at each other and hold hands, proud of your girl

She can be scared to kiss you, because of her mouth..

She doesn’t want to accidentally swallow you whole or something.

That’s what she thinks, but you always initiate it first, and she copies it all the time so she tries not to worry as much

I’ll try not to make this seem suggestive, but she likes it when you sit on her lap, a lot

Especially if you’re bigger than her

She gets really blushy to sit on your lap though, and asks a few times if you’re sure that you’re okay with this

Communication is key, it’s something that she says a lot

When you’re gone, she might need some type of doll, blanket, anything to remind her of you

She tries to not bring it to the panel because she thinks it’s childish, but at dream duty she usually brings it out

Because she never really falls asleep, especially at dream duty

Surprise affection can make her turn pretty red

A surprise hug makes her squeak

A surprise kiss makes her go silent

It just might be obvious that she would be the little spoon

It’s not because she feels smaller or anything, it’s just because she gets to feel you around her

You give her a good smooch on the head(Or eyelids) and she’s like mentally purring

If that makes sense

♥ Acts of Service

It was hard choosing if this should be quality time or acts of service, but i feel like she does a lot of things for you

Like holding the door open, at times she forgets to do that and reallyyyy wants to apologize, but thinks..

‘What if they didn’t really care if I opened the door or not and found it annoying that I even apologized!!’

She hates to think those things about you, because she knows you wouldn’t, but she can’t help BUT think those things

Uhmmm, this is just my thought but she wouldn’t mind being a personal maid for you

She just wouldn’t say it to you because you totally will think she’s weird

She tends to say “After you”, but tries to switch it up because she wants to be original

She would hold a platter full of your favorite food when you’re having a bad day

You don’t know how she got it, but would thank her and give her the biggest kiss

Not like making out tho

Don’t get too 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂

As humans, and you being born a biological woman(I apologize if you don’t want to be reminded of that), if you were on your period, she would literally do everything and anything for you

She would turn on your tv with the remote thats a centimeter away, she would doordash ANY type of food or candy for you, like she’s your servant for whatever duration you have on your period

If you got 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 on your period then she’d be more shy to give you food and assist, as in actually assisting and not just sex

♥ Gift Giving

She knows a lot about you, the average person would be concerned

OH MY GOSH. She would go crazy and Valentine's day, and plan EVERYTHING.

She would learn how to cook, just for you

So you can have an amazing breakfast, and love her even more of course

She wouldn’t mind some praise either

She’d come up with so many ideas of gift giving, but is SO indecisive if she should give you them or not

Crochet, she would crochet a plushie of you, and STILL would physically stutter about giving it to you

Either way, she gave it to you and you loved it!!

You gave her one of her own of course!!

Something inside her head was telling her to eat it

Just a thought

She didn’t know WHAT to feel in that moment

Should she kiss you? Say thank you? Jump around??

I DON’T KNOW JUST SAY SOMETHING!!!!

“THANKYOUILOVEYOUSOMUCHANDTHISREALLYMEANSALOTTOME!!!”

She said all of that while hugging you and clinging onto your torso

Just you yourself is a gift to her really

♥ Words of Affirmation

She is NOT good with giving, but LOVES receiving.

I read this SMAU(Social Media Alternate Universe) fanfic of Anxiety and it was about nicknames(Creds to anxietyspeaceful on Tumblr)

Where Anxiety LOVED it when you used the nicknames on her, but cringed whenever she would use the nicknames

I feel like that’s 100% accurate

Risky texts have her SWEATING.

I also saw a Tik Tok of Anxiety’s room(It’s actually real, just look up Inside Out Anxiety’s room) and she has affirmations on a board right above her head

If you would help her with those affirmations, she would appreciate it so much

Especially hearing you say that she herself can do it, it really boosts her confidence

She may be insecure of her overbite, but you’ll always be there to tell her that everything about her is adorable, even her cheesy smile

She thought about you calling her smile cheesy. But you immediately reassured her that you meant like when somebody says cheese for a photo

That actually helped build her confidence and comfortability with photos

It’s time to get a little sad :(

If she ever realizes that you get uncomfortable because of her, she’d “hate” herself for some time

Unless you remind her of your personal(Relationship wise) affirmations

That you love her, and always will

And if you don’t, that’s not you.

♥ Quality Time

This is last, because y’know, dates outside of headquarters freak her out

She’ll probably get too much attention, most likely negative attention because of how she treated those blobs in imagination land

Most quality time is just at the console, but you guys are usually just focusing on Riley

So I guess it’s not a lot of time spent together and only for together

Most quality time is just hugging or cuddling, which is pure physical affection

You guys don’t have much time for dates either

If you do, then that’s when it’s time to sleep

Which Anxiety doesn’t do much of, but you probably do

If you don’t, hazzah! You two can “date” by watching dream duty

If you do, then yea there isn’t much time to ONLY spend together, initiating no cuddles or anything

But! Quality time with the two of you is like looking at her schedule, going over routines, possible scenarios, needing help, stuff, just not a lot

You guys don’t eat together a lot, because she just scarfs it down, as if she hasn’t eaten in days.

I didn’t say this because of her mouth, but because I feel like she’s a fast eater

Playing games is pretty nice, she really likes tennis!! She gets pretty fast, to the point where you don’t even know where the ball went!!

When she doesn’t see it either, she jumps with her hands in the air and says, “I won!” Ending it off with a little celebration and giggling

After celebrating, she looks at you and realizes you’ve been staring at her

And of course, shies away from your gaze because she’s nervous

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

Is Eridan’s fake attempt for land dweller genocide just a manifestation of his guilt of orphaning all those trolls? He says he wants to kill them all so they will no longer have to deal the loss of losing their parent to some finned hipster asshole?

So Eridan's life pre-SGRUB is primarily concerned with one thing: it is his Duty as a violet-blood who is close to the Heiress to feed her lusus so that it doesn't throw a tantrum and Kill Everybody. It's a manifestation not of guilt, but of anxiety.

He describes the murder he commits in pursuit of this as "all i evver done practically," and we never see him participate in a hobby he enjoys - we learn he's a hipster because Karkat calls him one, he FLARPs to fill Gl'bgolyb's belly, and people have fought with me before, but I maintain that his "interest" in military history is also just a part of his posturing/something he reads like somebody would doomscroll, as it validates his anxiety, because he only ever talks about history twice, in the vaguest possible terms, and the first time, it's just part of him posturing at Kanaya, and the second time, he's literally just. Wrong? He's just incorrect?

CA: yeah go ahead and kiss us off but therell be blood on your hands CA: you could either play along as our auspistice and do a little mediating like you wwere fuckin hatched to CA: or wwatch she and me devvolvve into fuckin full fledged kismesisses the kind like you dont get once in ten thousand swweeps CA: you knoww thats wwhat it wwould be there wwould be rainboww rivvers runnin through star systems and all nebulizin like liquid firewworks CA: it wwill be beautiful and heartbreaking all at once CA: you should read up on your history instead of poring through that godawwfull sunny rubbish

CC: None of your plots to kill t)(e land dwellers ever work out, and every doomsday device you get your )(ands on turns out to be a piece of junk! CA: so CA: i got to keep tryin thats howw all the great military masterminds became great through upright persevverance

Like I just. Don't believe him when he says he's obsessed with military history when he doesn't seem to be able to name five specific battles, and thinks the main attribute a military leader needs to succeed is "persevverance". We know that Karkat's interest in romance is real because he brings it up more than twice and also starts infodumping about it to Vriska at one point, but Eridan only seems to mention it because he thinks he's supposed to care about it.

Which is pretty much, like, one of the biggest tensions in his character: how he feels he's supposed to act vs. how he actually feels about acting that way. He faces multiple pressures to be a certain person, which run counter to his actual feelings.

He has to be a murderer, because if he isn't one, then Gl'bgolyb will do a genocide on his entire species.

He has to be an unrepentant murderer, because they live in a horrible fascist murder-society where highbloods are supposed to kill lowbloods all the time for literally any reason.

He has to be the one getting his hands bloody because his ancestor, Dualscar, was also the Orphaner, and (especially highblood) trolls need to take up their ancestors' mantles.

He has to be rude and condescending to everybody else because that's how highbloods, and especially sea dwellers, have to act.

He cannot express compassion, sympathy, or pity, because sea dwellers and highbloods aren't supposed to act that way.

Magic has to be fake, because it's for shitty wigglers, and Eridan's not a wiggler anymore!

He has to be in a torrid pitch relationship because that was the most defining one Dualscar had, and he needs to complete Dualscar's unfinished business.

He has to be in a flushed relationship because Dualscar had an unrequited flushcrush on the empress, and he needs to complete Dualscar's unfinished business.

He has to hate the lowbloods because he's a highblood.

He has to hate the land dwellers because he's a sea dweller.

But wait! That's weird. He has to hate the land dwellers and lowbloods, but he's the one responsible for making sure they don't all die by keeping Gl'bgolyb full?

In truth, it would be all too easy to solve the land dweller problem once and for all. You'd just need to lighten up on the feeding schedule for a while. Maybe you'd be a little too busy to bother with that hassle for once? Or maybe you could happen to be off your game for a spell? It happens, even to the best sometimes. But nah. It would make her upset. More emotions. More problems. That's all you need.

And he has to be an unrepentant murderer even though he clearly feels more guilt for it than Feferi?

That should keep her happy for a while. And make a freshly orphaned troll somewhere pretty sad.

And you claim magic is fake idiot stuff for babies but you like it SOOOO much?

You also like MAGIC, even though you know it to be FAKE. Like a made up friend, the way wizards are. Made up make believe FAKEY FAKEY FAKES. It's still fun though.

So we can see that Eridan is basically being pulled two ways at all times.

On one hand, there's everything society says he needs to be: an unrepentant murderer, a military dictator, ruthless bloodthirsty sea-dwelling aristocracy, hater of all low bloods and land dwellers, Orphaner Dualscar's heir.

And on the other hand, there's the guy Eridan actually is: doesn't give a shit about the hemocaste, just wants friends and/or relationship partners, likes magic, like hipster stuff, kind of a tool, guilty and traumatized.

It doesn't help that the people he's surrounded by are the least likely to recognize his distress as distress - Feferi loooooves being a princess, Kanaya has never really voiced any strong opinions on the hemocaste because it largely doesn't concern her since she's a rare jade blood, and Vriska is doing a lot better than Eridan is at fitting the mold they were born into (not that she doesn't have problems, she's just doing better than Eridan, which is a low fucking bar). Even Karkat, because of his own hangups about being a mutant pariah, venerates the society he was born into, because he (wrongly) sees it as a means to gain validation so he can hate himself less. As a result, Eridan winds up with basically 0 support system, because pretty much every aspect of his life reinforces that the thing society says he should be is correct, and that there's something wrong with Eridan for being unable to meet that expectation.

Especially because, for at least all the "murderer" he's supposed to be, if he fails to meet that expectation, everybody dies. So it's not just that he's got a pushy lusus and a shitty society, like Vriska does, but that there's also the added weight that adhering to those expectations is literally, objectively, the correct thing to do, so long as he doesn't want literally everybody to die.

As a result, he's constantly trying to overcorrect his behavior and cognition to line up with what he thinks he's supposed to be. That's why he's constantly saying slurs even though he doesn't actually treat anybody differently for their caste. That's why he's constantly talking about murder and military history, even though he clearly doesn't enjoy doing either of those things. That's why he's always pushing this image of a big bad fascist wannabe, even though he actually wants to be a magic-slinging wizard.

The thing about genocide, for Eridan, is that he's already obsessed with genocide - the prevention of genocide. Keeping his species from being genocided is, without exaggeration, the most time-consuming pursuit in his life. BUT WAIT! He can't say, think, or believe that his actions are for the benefit of the land dwellers, because first of all, he feels kind of guilty about killing them, and second of all, because he's not allowed to express compassion to the people he's keeping safe. So between the stress, the cognitive dissonance, the anxiety, and the fact that Eridan doesn't really do a lot of introspection because he's so overwhelmed by emotion, his existing preoccupation with genocide is transmuted into something that's socially acceptable: "wanting all the land dwellers dead."

"[I]t would be all too easy." Indeed: if he ever slacks in his duties, they will all die. In fact, it's easier for him to let them die than to not. He clearly doesn't like doing all that killing, and it clearly makes him feel bad, and takes up a shitton of his time if nothing else, so it's probably occurred to him over, and over, and over, that maybe he should just... not! What if he just stopped.

Well, then everyone would die. Gl'bgolyb would raise her voice a little and it'd kill all the rust bloods, then the bronzes, the golds, the limes, the olives...

Wait! Is he feeling bad for them? He's not supposed to be feeling bad for the low bloods! Shit, shit, shit. Say a slur and then say something about how you WANT all the low bloods dead. PHEW. OKAY. SAFE. But that means you need to kill all the lowbloods. Because you said it, so it has to be true, and also, this is the way you're supposed to be. So, fuck, well, go commission a doomsday device. Okay, done. PHEW. It probably doesn't work, but nobody can say you didn't try! Hooray, you did it! You have performed a Sea Dweller Action! Oh it's time to go kill some people again. Damnit. Killing people sucks. It makes you feel bad, and it takes up so much of your time. What if you just didn't...

And we can see this with the way his lust for genocide is described. There's no mention of why he hates the land dwellers, no mention of how he believes society will improve with them gone, or even what they're doing that's so bad in the first place. He rambles at Feferi about "keeping the bloodlines pure" at one point, but this is clearly contradicted by him stating he wouldn't kill Kanaya, because what sort of friend would he be? (And the fact that he cares about Kanaya, Vriska, and the anon-blooded Karkat, who could be literally any blood color, at all!)

So yeah, like, the thing is, he doesn't want to kill them all. He even calls himself out for knowing his latest doomsday plot was a bust from the start:

You are almost starting not to care about this stupid doomsday device which probably won't even work. She probably KNOWS you know it won't work. She has probably put all the pieces together and knows it was an elaborate ruse to be in cahoots with her again.

And so does Feferi:

CC: None of your plots to kill t)(e land dwellers ever work out, and every doomsday device you get your )(ands on turns out to be a piece of junk! CA: so CA: i got to keep tryin thats howw all the great military masterminds became great through upright persevverance CC: I t)(ink deep down you stack t)(ese plots against you so you fail because you know it's wrong.

And here he is outright contradicting his stated goal of killing the land dwellers because, jegus, he'd never kill his friends:

CA: but somethin thatll kill all land dwwellers wwhat else wwould i be after GA: Can You Just For A Moment Entertain The Thoughts Of One Untouched By Megalomaniacal Derangement And Tell Me Why Id Want To Assist You With That CA: wwell CA: im not goin to vvery wwell kill you am i that wwould be fuckin unconscionable CA: wwhat kind of friend wwould i be

And a reminder that one of his closest friends at this point in time is Karkat, whose blood color is currently anonymous to his friend group, meaning he could be literally any blood color and Eridan wouldn't want him dead:

CC: You know, I'm not sure w)(y we never talk about our romantic aspirations. CC: We s)(ould more often. It is kind of -EXCITING! CA: shrug CC: Probably because you fill your gossip quota wit)( your nubby )(orned bro.

But Karkat also explicitly lumps himself in with the low bloods, so Eridan can't even use the excuse that Karkat might be nobility (but sea dwellers are still suppose to hate land dwelling nobility so that still wouldn't be a defense EVEN IF it was true):

CG: CHALK IT UP AS ANOTHER INFURIATING VICTORY FOR GUTTER BLOOD OVER ARISTOCRACY.

Because Eridan does not want to genocide the land dwellers. He's just anxious.

[wileys-russo]

Hellooo, I absolutely love your Barca x reader fics with Pollito, I love how you write her and all the dynamics she has with all the team, it makes me so happy to see when you post a new fic for her.

I have a few headcannons about her which I have been thinking about:

I don't know if you have spoken about her siblings at all but I feel like she's the type of girl to have two older brothers and like a older sister, so it goes her oldest sister, then her brothers and then Pollito, cause of course she is the youngest, she just gives off those vibes. All of Pollito's siblings are a good couple years older than her with her sister being ten years older. Pollito has the same dynamic with her brothers as she does with Mapi, as children all they did was get each other in trouble so thats why she felt so comfortable with Mapi.

Vicky is always third wheeling Pollito and her girlfriend, whenever they go anywhere together Vicky is always close behind. They all joke that Vicky is their child.

Pollito has never had a very serious injury before, one that would put her out for months or something she needed to have surgery on. And all of the team calls her invincible cause anytime she goes down on the pitch, she's right back up again. But one time is training they were setting up plays for corner passes, Pollito went for the ball, accidentally tripped over someones leg and with Ale marking her from behind, the hand Ale has on her back sent her falling forward into one of the goal posts. Ale freaks out when Pollito doesn't move but makes sure to keep with the head injury protocols of not moving her, incase of spine injuries. Medics arrive and five minutes later Pollito is up and giggling, with a massive golf sized ball bump on her head and is put on heavy concussion watch. Ale feels absolutely terrible, but Pollito has an absolute field day with it, as she now uses it as blackmail for anytime Ale tries to get mad at her.

Sometimes Olga and Ale go off on trips so before Pollito even gets the chance to ask if she can stay with her girlfriend, she is jetted off to Mapi and Ingrids place. Pollito has her own temporary room there, and she can never stay mad with the opportunities to play prank about prank of Mapi, messing with the older women in her own home.

She has like five family dogs, that have been around since she was a toddler. Her family are big dog owners and Pollito is exactly the same. Mapi finds it absolutely hilarious that when Pollito first met bagheera she wasn't sure how to act around cats. She was so scared at first but of course when she finally warms up to him, she changes into the biggest cat person as well as dog person.

love your writing so much, I hope these headcannons do justice to Pollito and what you think she is like and how she lives. xx

these are so perfect!!

pollito absolutely grows up in a large family and misses that a lot when she first moves to the academy and then to the senior team. which is why she gravitates toward older friends and ‘role models’ to replace what she’s missing. mapi is exactly like her brothers and fills that void for her, and the same thing in that mapi always wanted a younger sister but instead she was the younger sister, so they bonded and grew close quite fast. and Alexia and Frido both remind pollito a lot of her older sister!

Pollito eats it up that everyone calls Vicky her child given that Vicky is older, but it doesn’t stop her from still inviting herself to hang out with Pollito and her girlfriend whenever she’s bored, and Vicky and pollitos girlfriend are quite close so as much as Pollito whines and complains she really doesn’t mind that much that her best friend and girlfriend get along well!

Alexia even asks pollitos parents if she’s broken a bone or anything before and somehow she hasn’t despite running around like a madwoman and playing sports as soon as she could walk. But a lot of the older girls are cautious that Pollito knows she’s not actually invincible so that she doesn’t do anything stupid because Pollito is very easily convinced.

whenever Pollito wants something from alexia she winces and holds her head and says something like “no no i’m fine, i think it’s just the head trauma from when you pushed me into a goalpost” and suddenly Ale will give her whatever she wants out of guilt, even though it’s been months and her head is completely fine

everytime Olga and Ale go away pollito is given two options: frido’s house or ingrid’s house, and no amount of begging or guilt tripping will change alexia’s mind because anywhere else and pollito isn’t supervised to alexia’s standard

Pollito and Bagheera are frenemies, at first pollito was terrified and steered clear and refused to even be within 5 feet of her. Mapi would always bring bagheera in and drop her on Pollitos lap and pollito just freezes and refuses to even breathe until ingrid takes pity and shoos bagheera away. but then one night when pollito is upset about something and misses her dogs sleeping in the bed with her (no amount of begging will convince alexia to let even one of the big dogs come live with pollito) bagheera comes in and pollito very cautiously pets her and suddenly they’re best friends much to Mapi’s annoyance

[theblackfemininesociety]

🪞Inner Dialogue Diaries — Part One: Are Your Inner Thoughts Your Biggest Cheerleader or Harshest Critic?

Hey Besties and Future Besties of B.F.S,

As your accountability partner, I think it's important to highlight all the struggles women face during their feminine journey and give solutions and tools to help you conquer those obstacles.

Our fellow Femininity and Level Up content creators are doing a wonderful job with helping women look and even act like their best selves. We realized that we don't often see the real conversations about the daily mental reprogramming that has to happen in order to let your feminine energy flourish✨

🌟 The P.V.N Method:

There are two ladies that most of us know of, heard of and even embody on a daily basis. I would call them arch enemies but one cares for the other and the other can care less about them. Who am I talking about? The infamous "Positive Polly" and "Negative Nancy" we all have had our moments with both of these ladies both externally and internally.

Who is Positive Polly:

Miss Positive Polly is very upbeat, encouraging and optimistic. She is always looking on the brighter sides of things and people. She is solution oriented and maintains a hopeful perspective even in challenging times.

She relies on her friends FAITH and CONFIDENCE, together they create a supportive and encouraging environment.

Who is Negative Nancy:

Unlike Positive Polly, the infamous Negative Nancy isn't so glamorous. She is actually very dull suffers from perceptual blindness which causes her to having to depend on her fake friends “The Debbie Downers” (Scarcity, Fear and The Past)

Together they tend to focus on the on problems, obstacles, and worst-case scenarios. The Debbie Downers are often critical and sees the downsides in situations.

The P.V.N method is the practice of identifying which posse your inner voice is akin to, this is how you will perceive everything you are doing, analyzing and believing about yourself.

Which Posse does your Inner Voice belong to ?

The Daily Reprogramming:

After identifying what side your thoughts are on (positive vs. negative) it's time to download this information into your brain. If you are normally pessimistic, This is a daily ritual, yes daily. Sounds exhausting but all of the greats became great because they had to do this very thing.

What To Reprogram?

Self-Awareness and Reflection: Recognize when your inner dialogue leans toward Negative Nancy or The Debbie Downers. Reflect on how these thoughts are affecting your actions and emotions.

Reframing Thoughts: Challenge negative thoughts and replace them with more constructive, Positive Polly-style affirmations. For example, if you think “I always mess up,” reframe it as “I’m learning and improving with each attempt.”

Building Positive Habits: Practice gratitude, celebrate small victories, and set realistic goals to reinforce a positive inner dialogue. This helps shift your overall mindset from self-criticism to self-encouragement. (Click Here For Our Habit Breaking Guide)

Seeking Support: Support is a big part of your femininity journey, commonly as black women we feel like we need to do everything alone bt thats not true! Sometimes external support, such as talking to friends, mentors, or therapists, can help counteract negative inner dialogue and promote a more positive self-view.

🚨 The Good News: There is an ultimate kryptonite to depleting your negative thoughts 💭

[animentality]

Your post about Gortash being embarrassing and cringe and not realizing it is SO real to me. I think he is perfectly suave and charming to everyone except when it comes to someone he ACTUALLY likes, at which point his usual mask is useless because he has no idea how to cover up Real Feelings. The way he 🥺 and grins and blabbers nonstop to Durge at the coronation reunion is exhibit A for this of course. Personally I think he had no idea what was happening on his face during that, it just earnestly happened, and he probably THOUGHT he was being chill but he so wasnt. He is a 40 or 50 year old teenager with a crush and he’s clueless that it gets him acting like an idiot. Important Gortash characterisation (to me!)

It just makes sense to me given his history and overall emotional immaturity that he does not know how to express casual affection for something, let alone someONE. (And yeah the whole thing where he and Durge are both really smart people capable of near-flawless teamwork but they also genuinely make each other kind of stupid when they’re around each other. It tracks.)

He wooed Jannath with unimpeachable charm because he did not actually care about or love her (im really sorry Jannath 🫣) so he was just being a fake bastard, and thats easy. But real affection? Real love? He has no framework for that. Catch the Chosen of Bane in the most unbecoming act of ducking his head to hide his stupid smile after taking Durge’s hand in his. Embarrassing!

ANON, your mind.

It's powerful.

I am gnawing on the wonderful idea, because I love the concept of, Gortash is the perfect gentleman, he's great at copying others, at pretending to be a patriar, and exuding this carefully constructed charm.

He was raised by DEVILS. He was in a GANG.

He has Raphael's bullshit charm, and all these rough edges.

But he smooths them out, when he's trying to seduce rich women or arms dealer.

But that act doesn't work on the Dark Urge, of course, and he would never even try that sort of thing with them anyway.

Because anyone who seduces people for a living knows, not everyone reacts to the same tricks.

BUT.

Maybe he starts out trying to seduce them, by being cold and practical and intelligent...but then, surprise surprise.

it ends up not being an act. he finds the dark urge is warmer and more receptive than he thought they'd be, after decades of being alone.

and they have things in COMMON.

And he IS honest with them, as his partner.

And then, when he's NOT trying to seduce then....he accidentally seduces them...by being such a fucking nerd.

And THEN.

as you said.

He is SO dorky and cringe...because he's being honest, for one thing, AND he doesn't know how to act, when he genuinely likes someone, and isn't just trying to seduce them.

And he's THRILLED that that's what gets the Dark Urge hot under the collar.

The biggest freak in all of Baldur's Gate, meets the second biggest one, and they don't know how to act "right," but their version of right ends up being healthier than anything else they might have ever been capable of.

UGH, anon.

Do not SEND ME DOWN THIS RABBITHOLE.

You couldn't pry soft dorky lovestruck idiot Durgetash from my dead claws.

I think they committed horrible atrocities together.

I also think they were so sweet on each other, it would make Bhaal gag.

[allisluv]

hey! i was wondering if you could possibly do an emily prentiss and reader thing, literally anything, maybe some fic or headcanons about dating in secret? if not thats, okay have a lovely day!

anon i am a sucker for the wlw secret dating trope!! i hope this is what you were looking for and feel free to send in more asks whenever you’d like <3

• so first off, i wholeheartedly believe emily is big on physical touch— holding hands under a table, interlocking pinkies in crowds, sitting close on the jet with your knees touching. it’s subtle enough that the rest of the team don’t notice (or pretend they don’t, anyway).

• if hotch sent you to different locations during a case, emily would check in whenever she gets the chance. it’s not done in a possessive way, i just think she’d constantly be fretting, even if she knows you can take care of yourself. she’s just always looking out for you and vice versa.

• although i said physical touch is emily’s love language, i think shes also really big on acts of service. like having a cup of coffee ready in the office if it’s an early start or carrying your go-bag, even when you insist you can do it yourself. and derek would be the biggest tease about it. “where’s my special treatment prentiss?” and she’d just glare at him over her shoulder and he’d crack up 😭

• everyone in the team is quite close so i don’t think it would be out of the ordinary for emily and you to be ‘best friends’. in fact it kinda works in your favour— you can spend time together and no one bats an eyelid.

• communicating without words would probably be the nail in the coffin that tells the team you two are more than friends. you can have full on conversations without speaking, and while that is not uncommon for profilers, it’s different with you two.

• emily pretends to have such a stoic “no one is able to hurt me” mindset but it just melts away with you. she doesn’t like getting close to a lot of people but it’s hard when you’re so likeable.

• in the end, it’s her adoration for you that gives it away; she’s regularly checking in to see how you’re doing, she listens attentively (even if no one else is interested in what you’re saying) and you’re the first person she looks for when she enters a room.

• when you finally tell the team, you’re expecting a reaction but they all just kinda sit there like smug idiots— “is that it? 🤨” vibes and garcia definitely slumps in her chair in relief and is like “thank god, i thought i’d have to lock you in a room before you admitted it.”

[castiwls]

"don't touch my kid"

dean winchester as a girl dad...

Would deffo cry when he first held her

Makes little mixtapes of her fav songs to play in the impala 🥹 (my dad did this 🥹)

Is the parent who screams the loudest at any sort of graduation or awards ceremony. (Sam tells him to shut up)

“WOOO” *loud clapping* “THATS MY GIRL!”

She act embarrassed but actually love it &lt;3

He also very proudly tells the WORST dad jokes

(He thinks there comedic genius)

Determined to be present in her life and keep hunting away.

Going back to the mixtape thing he DEFFO has a guilty pleasure one (he is a HUGE secret swiftie I feel)

(Sam and her found it once and Dean pleaded ignorance)

LOVES to go on late night car drives with her.

Also loves movie marathons

( he will show her all his favs)

I feel like he would give really thoughtful birthday gifts aswell

Deffo made like personal mixtapes or little photo albums and stuff

He would also get like little token gifts from all the states they travel to &lt;3

MATCHING HALLOWEEN COSTUMES

When she’s a kid watches scooby doo with her all the time.

(Biggest dilf)

Sings hey Jude as a lullaby (like his mum did 🥹)

Puts any photo they drew or something they make on the fridge for everyone to see (proud dad)

LOVED playing tea parties

One time she found a stray kitten and brought it home and dean was adamant that it was not staying. Later that night she found the kitten curled up on him.

“Awh look how cu-“ “we’re not keeping it.”

[spacedlexi]

As someone who loves both Kenny and Violet, I feel like I’ve found my calling here 😭😭😭

They’re genuinely so similar, and I do agree that the fandom has male bias, as well as protagonist bias actually

Clementine has the opportunity to befriend/romance Violet and then let her get kidnapped 20 minutes later. And for Violet, that is the most obvious feeling of betrayal! I don’t understand why people in the fandom struggle to realize that their actions have consequences

Lee can basically hate Kenny the entirety of the first season and then the fandom defends Kenny for his actions.

Clearly most of us totally understand Kenny’s response to Lee’s and by extension Clementine’s behavior, so why can’t they understand Violet’s response to Clem’s? Makes no sense to me

honestly i feel like aside from having a male bias the fandom has more of a kenny bias than a protag bias. i see his ass EVERYWHERE. CONSTANTLY. some people act like he raised clem as much as lee did 😭 (and i dont like the way the fandom talks about clem sometimes 😒 ties into the "weird about women" stuff)(and javi? wheres javi? i would like to see more javi. i actually think i see david more than javi)

anyway. i DO find kenny to be a compelling character and understand Why hes popular. its why i initially thought vi would be more popular among those fans! people who like both kenny and vi i can trust to have understood the assignment 💀 because they really do share similarities. but things some people LOVE kenny for they absolutely LOATHE violet for. and its just???? whats not clicking???

i really dont understand why some people act So Shocked by violets reaction in the cells. like hello?? YOU did this to her??? shes done nothing but put herself on the line for clem (even if clem is mean and ungrateful about it), and the One time vi needs clem to have her back, she doesnt (even tho its an impossible choice to make, and deep down vi understands this). and people shock pikachu face when it pushes her back to minnie like no shit??? but i dont think theyre even paying attention to violets character in the first place so 🙄😑 violet settled into that leadership position on her own and not only do you strip her of that role by letting her get taken she also feels discarded by the One Person who was actually influencing her to change for the better in the first place. AND you can do it all 20 minutes after kissing her. of course shes hurt!!! but people act like shes soooo unreasonable for her behavior (and vi would later agree with them! she tries apologizing to clem on the beach actually. thats how quickly she regrets it. but its too late at that point for her i guess 🙄 irredeemable. to the stocks)

kenny will Literally refuse to help lee look for clem if you pissed him off too much like 😭?? if you arent kissing kennys ass 24/7 he is the worlds biggest bitch about it. but endless excuses for kennys behavior for some reason 🤨 him trying to save ben (or christa but its better with ben narratively) is his first Real selfless act and its why its such a compelling conclusion for his S1 arc (only compounded by the fact its BEN of all people hes trying to save, the reason his family is dead). and S2 kenny is all about how his mental health is in sharp decline and hes becoming more violent as he attempts to control what he cannot 💀 kenny defenders out here using up all the oxygen in the room to make excuses for his actions but the minute vi makes One mistake she immediately regrets (after being nothing but loyal), shes an evil bitch deserving of what she got 😐

gee i wonder why 😭😔