#do not try reading or... GL

[yther]

lorelei.... if that was the name of the perp on some true crime episode, imagine the titles they could have pun with~

(I started with some disarming silliness to balance out the rest, which is a smidge macabre. I invite you to be entertained with abt 1/64th of what I have to say. to skip the forward, find line, word START)

tom brokibaawaaa: ...and she waited, and waited, and waited more. For her laurels were made....of Lies! Cursed to never rest, roaming the nightlands with an unquenchable thirst for cheap acrylic nails, mint tea and the shittiest reality tv shows ever made. Until one day, fate went back on its word, and elected one of the borrowed-to-abuse children to be honored as Executioner. For the sun was now setting across the Earth. Gaia, in her eternal wisdom, was willing to give herself to the rising Shadow Sun. Just like Jesus, not complicated.

To cleanse the cosmos of the darkest of all things... not dark energy or matter, or all those black holes, no! A singular, incredibly unfortunate error of a wholly void human, born in Iowa and appearing as intact but filled only with a vapid and vacuous Malice, distilled from the still unnamed antithesis of every goodness seen in man and known by man through the world he inhabits.

Method...! 🗡️ Fate didn't specify so apparently I get to choose. You can toss a suggestion if you wish.

Shall I write you a song worthy of your discerning taste?

Laura lies!

lorelei,

realize..

da moral of blue eyes -

sounds, clouds, homewrecker gold digger*

icon -ic, like the gaucho pants from Target you love, fearfully but admittedly moronic

*possibly fetishizes musicians, or there were coincidentally two guitar husbands in a row which isn't a lot but still weird

chronic hate would not abate,

> now I arrive, returning you - fateless

with the offering of [redacted]

START

to your credit, you have a remarkable hyena pseudopenis way of signing your various games of overlapping manipulations with... nothing but palpable lack of humanity and this

stench? almost

...like 100 babies rotted inside you

because the devil himself wouldn't condemn another soul to be birthed through you, or an angel of mercy could hear the screaming of the unborn life inside and took pity.

is that why you abandoned the real daughter, because the narcissism couldn't be content with this person you would merely own but never fully possess? because somehow she was just enough of you to project your reflection? and either evil recognizes other evil and it scared the shit out of you since, ofc you are a Lovecraftian entity in a class all your own, so the existence of a doppelganger wouldn't resolve itself..

or idk. did you just go full chimp and try to eat your own reflection. I am happy to imagine.

Half of everything you ever said was a contrived lie. purposeful deception for the thrill.

It's funny.

Remembering the first person to harm me, was you.

The person who was obsessed with me and playing games simply to sow fear or confusion. Either endlessly curious or simply a predator that is juuuuuust sophisticated enough to not impulsively satiate the instinctual desires. to savor the hunt, like an Orca, but only if that Orca was genetically fused with the worst anglerfish to ever angle for fish.

If muppets existed, they'd put whatever peels off your skull over fossilized dog shit and add you to the Fraggle Rock landscape as bait for seagulls so they'd have a way to encourage all the birds to shit in the same general area.

Bird shit is very hard to wash off a muppet. You could have half of a redemption arc, still. Well. No, not redemption. You did go after a married man with a lil baby (meeee!) who you selfishly bound to you with babies even though... well, it's an amalgamation of many tropes! a very real thing with pipers, prices of evil, baby snatchers making bargains and curses that exact blood for blood, like using blood magic might make your stillborn or deformed chicken creature made entirely of teeth and hair.

Did you ever try making a puppet out of the stuff? Or do your toys have to be able to scream and struggle to get any entertainment?

I can't see you having much fun with the putrid parts of a creature that would always come out dead and soulless. You're religious so I am confused how you missed such a clear message from god, that your body itself is so sick with hate, all life and innocence turns to ash and blood just from being in proximity to you.

It's strong stuff. Whatever gives you that stench that helped me find that keylogger, on the strange summer day---after a decade of restricting any contact with the outside world while I was there---you very eagerly insisted I email my mother.

... I forget. Was that before or after my mom caught a whiff just from you mouth breathing on the other line while eavesdropping on our call?

Definitely after some spicy drop offs that flirted with kidnapping.

I wonder if you were hunting or had a fortuitous encounter with me. Are you having urges to torment a new grandchild in your life or just a fan of your "Classic Hits" reel? Of all the children and people you sought control of, what was the best? Like did you get a massive high when you executed Gold Digger 66? It's impressive you managed to make into that man into a puppet. You were always the one who decided, commanded and then hid behind your pawns. Did you ever ask yourself why you feel most powerful as an observer. Set the trap but never present to commit to the acts yourself. Other than the acting roles where you got to have fun like the good old days. One predator, one man, one bar. Both married with kids, but I don't doubt how enticing it was to find a malleable host (with money ofc).

You've definitely retired from your adultery as a career gig, and I know you can probably afford it after you took that man for all he was worth and then some! Love how that 90k art degree that Gerry paid for never payed dividends. You should give the money back, because you think higher education is stupid anyway! Did you end up hanging around some flat earthers or moon-deniers during covid? Oh man, I really want to know how many tubes of horse paste you definitely choked down.

On that note! Any entertainment you favor these days?? Assuming your children could escape your grasp somewhat intact and Dilly isn't being turned into a ritual sacrificed to extend Cindy Lauper's life or a just one moose that is holding all that pottery barn furniture hostage. To get a power trip even half as nice as when you were killing the game... abandoning a minor, trying to frame your other ex husband for abuse. Libel about my family? Threatening a mother, saying she'll never see her baby again if we go to court. Blackmail. Stealing my regular mail. Gotta be having some type of withdrawal.

You like rat dogs. That says a lot, actually. Did you get more? Did you keep or eat the remains

Oh! A serious question for you now.. did you ever started a fair fight (aka no poisoning the other person before the fight, or taking a child hostage to create a MAD situation) with a human even half your size?? Maybe try that out. Go to Colfax and I'll find you.

I never said bye or got to say:

I like how the cowardice ultimately cannot be concealed as it is the center of your personal pathology. Target the most vulnerable, never the big fish. You don't like to change. Challenging marks require some flexibility.

You're still in Colorado, yeah. It's a good thing you wouldn't ever tuck tail and run to Turkey to live with your brother..Jim, right? How did Layla Rose turn out?

I'm dying to know, what's something you really crave these days? Or have you slowed down with age, happily subsisting on anonymous sadism online?

Or did you successfully train your apprentice aka a child destroyed and remade in your image? You manipulate as easily as your own appendages, it kinda impressive but not remarkable. Mothers and sons make great crime partners because of a fucked up mutual codependency.

I wonder if your legacy is somehow unfinished. As far as I know, you beat everyone. You took what you were after from soooo many people and you always had the leverage to keep them from hauling you to court.

Everyone... except me. Am I the one who got away?

I don't need to bait you. Isn't it funny? Decades of honed expertise in manipulation, deception and torture and yet.

My parents, flawed yes. You found the perfect pressure points on both.

I know my father feared you and was happy to be no longer responsible for anything. Easyyy mark. Children who are programmed to trust Nurturer, plus everything else about them is so easy to exploit. Taking candy from a baby doesn't actually get you street cred, if you were wondering.

My mother was disturbed by you, but not afraid. Afraid for me. But without dangling baby me over a bridge, you couldn't have ever touched her. She would have pushed you into a well. You can't double up on these curses btw, so no, you would not return to haunt those who wronged you along with a few collateral snacks. You are the murder mommy who used to push children into the well.

You'd just fall into a pit. Your neuroplasticity l basically gone by now. I wonder how long it would take for that insidious love of pain and humiliation to turn inward. I might give you water and one diet pepsi a day to find out if you would implode or explode. Would you eventually give into the urge to viciously consume, so that some part of your defective brain would turn on the ego you call "I", cannibalizing your own self if you are deprived of anything else to provoke or torment?

Literally or figuratively!

I'm just curious about how you work inside.

I am so very much alive and young. But I won't wait for my mother to get so sick that prison time would be irrelevant.

Unlike you, I participate. I don't cower. Thank you for letting me learn every weakness in my father before I could see a scary movie.

I learned from his mistakes which is good, since he didn't. Bless.

I learned from my mother's restraint that on principle, nuke it from orbit just to be safe. I don't care about collateral.

You will be dismissed via airlock if that's how you want it. I would seduce Elon Musk to destroy you.

You loved fables, too. Fascinating.

If you have a new husband or have chosen who will carry out your last wishes, etc I'd love contact info. I was thinking you should donate your body to science, and more specifically NASA, since you are such a huge fan of humanity and you see beyond your own interests and are invested in a prosperous future of humanity. And everyone will speak French, obviously.

I will fix up your legacy no matter what, tbh, do not sweat a thing. Might just be correcting your tombstone or giving a eulogy since you are destined to be dearly missed and many prominent figures will come to pay their... respects. I now can see how you heavily relate to jar jar binks, I'm sure you always meant well but were hindered by an innate ineptitude. Not force sensitive, but ofc, you can't always get what you want.

The world sure is something, isn't it? Imagine if I was your day nurse or caretaker someday! I imagine you with cloudy eyes in a wheelchair, unable to remove maggots from your diabetic leg ulcers.

Would you know me? How would call out to me for aid?

Gotta say, I am what you always feared but never faced. Call me Captain Braggart. Because I am that! More audacity, more emotional intelligence, more tenacity, more experience with abnormal psychology, and I've got wayyyyyyy time. As it stands, I'm not just unkillable by virtue of being alive, if I guesstimate the number of combined attempts you've made, and I've made, and the neighbors, etc etc. I wouldn't say it's a overstatement to call it miraculous, even.

I will be there when you start to forget the alphabet, I promise.

p.s I may or may not eat at least one of your surviving sons. I like to play it by ear.

They've got big ones so they'll hear me coming, chill.

[milkbreadtoast]

random but i resolved to post abt it every time i find a webtoon that I enjoy... and lately I've been having fun reading this one...

*rubs nose* heh... I do dabble in het from time to time... no but seriously it's a p straightforward lighthearted enemies to lovers romcom, not groundbreaking or anything yet im over here kicking my feet and giggling the main couple is SO cute to me... i luv them... I actually couldnt wait to find out what happens next so ive been slowly reading ahead in the kor whenever i have time and they're sooo cute😭😭 I also like the art style and costume design a lot!! it gives me like. a nostalgic 90s shoujo anime vibe tbh... w the puffy hair and babyfaces...

[obstinaterixatrix]

ok the story was strong enough that I bought the ebooks on ridi… I hope I don’t keep collecting platforms to own media on -_-

[sapphonoticeme]

i am a hardcore li xian apologist btw

[themyscirah]

Was at Barnes & Noble today buying a book for my flight this weekend and they really had the worst selection of Wonder Woman comics 💔

I was moving fast bc I had ppl waiting for me so I only got a quick glance but seemed to be just copies of Earth One, the Messner-Loebs TPB, and WW: Evolution, the last of which I haven't read yet but the art looks ugly and they use current continuity Vanessa Kapetelis so those are already strikes in my book. Earth One I also haven't read (although ill probably force myself to at some point) but that's self explanatory

Oh and the Messner-Loebs TPB wasn't even the Artemis issues it was the beginning of his run! Which I'm sorry but is SO garbage. Why are we stranding Diana in space for a year in universe, having her ditch her entire supporting cast and then work minimum wage at DC taco bell to survive. Please guys cmon now

[broke-on-books]

😍😍😍

[tsukisangel]

hq boys react to you getting hit on in dms!!

characters ꕤ tsukishima, atsumu, kuroo, daichi

wc ꕤ 926

you were laying on your belly in bed with TSUKISHIMA while he was sitting up next to you and reading. it wasn’t too late in the evening. the two of you were just winding down after a long day. you scrolled through your phone when you got a message request on instagram. you furrowed your brows, pressing it and reading it. you gasped softly, making tsukishima glance over at you.

daish.guru: hey baby ;) how about u leave that loser and get w me instead ?

you laughed in pure shock. tsukishima hummed and set his book down after placing the bookmark in the page he was reading. you held the phone up to him, and he raised his brows. possessiveness flashed in his eyes for half a second. you hardly noticed it. then he smirked, taking the phone. he didn’t even say anything. he just wrote a message and gave it back to you. then he went back to reading.

you furrowed your brows at your boyfriend, looking at the phone.

y/n: correct me if i’m wrong, didn’t your girlfriend break up with you recently? and then when you begged on your hands and knees for her back and she rejected you, you went on instagram and found objectively attractive women to hit on thinking that would work? nice try. unfortunately for me, i’m stuck with her -loser

you laughed. “kei!” you exclaimed, a grin spreading across your face. “what the hell do you mean unfortunately?”

he rolled his eyes. “should i let him have you?” he asked. “you’re interrupting my reading.” you scoffed, hitting his arm and then stealing his book. “hey.” you laughed, making sure you kept his spot as you flipped through the pages. despite the teasing, your heart was still fluttering at the message your boyfriend sent.

ꕤ

“tsumu!” you groaned. “hurry up!” you exclaimed. “i’m gonna start it without you!” while you waited for ATSUMU to get out of the kitchen and get to the living room for your night in, you scrolled instagram on your phone. you furrowed your brows when you noticed a strange dm from some random guy you didn’t even know.

terushi.ma: hey gorgeous 😍 i bet you’d have way more fun with me than that weirdo ur with ;)

“who the fuck is that?” atsumu asked from behind you. you jumped, the phone flying out of your hand. he laughed.

you scowled and pushed his face. “i don’t know. guess he thinks i’m hot.” you smiled at atsumu. “but i already know that.”

“okay, bighead.” atsumu rolled his eyes, picking your phone up. you laughed softly. he checked for cracks and then sat next to you, opening the dm. “here, take a pic with me.” he opened the camera to take a picture, then pointed to his cheek. you grinned and kissed it, hearing the camera click. then you watched as he typed a message back.

y/n: [1 image attachment]

y/n: i think she’s good bro, gl tho

you nodded. “perfect.” you said. “my protector.” you rested your head on his lap and he chuckled, setting his popcorn bowl down on your belly. you giggled.

“anything for you, gorgeous.” he winked at you.

ꕤ

KUROO walked over to you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist from behind as you prepared your breakfast. you saw his hands held your phone. he pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “why in the hell is daishou suguru messaging you?” he asked sweetly. you furrowed your brows, looking down at the message on your phone.

then you scoffed at the message.

daish.guru: hey baby ;) how about u leave that loser and get w me instead ?

“i’d like to know the same thing.” you frowned. “isn’t he from that team that cheated or whatever?” you asked.

kuroo nodded, starting to type on the phone. “cheated and still lost.” he chuckled.

y/n: daishou - 0, kuroo - 2

y/n: seems like you’re the loser here.

you laughed softly at the messages. “still holding a grudge on him?” you teased.

“no, not anymore. i’m finally at peace with it.” he grinned, setting your phone down. “food’s burning, by the way, pretty.” he walked away and you gasped, looking at the food. “maybe let me handle it next time.” he teased.

“shut up!” you exclaimed.

ꕤ

DAICHI set the plates of dinner down at the table. “thanks for cooking.” you smiled, putting your phone down face up on the table.

“of course. you deserve it.” he kissed your head. “plus, we haven’t been able to sit down and eat together for a while.” he sat down across from you, drinking from his cup of water. “i’m just glad i get to spend some nice, slow time with you.”

you nodded. “me too.” you said happily. as soon as you had both relaxed and started eating, you saw an instagram notification.

tets.kuroo: are you made of fluorine, iodine, and neon? because you’re F-I-Ne ;)

you furrowed your brows, about to grab it, but daichi grabbed it before u did. you saw him read it, look up at your bewildered expression, and then you watched him block the guy who messaged you. you could've sworn you saw his eye twitch. you raised your brows. “that’s that.” he said.

you smiled. “don’t be jealous.” you teased. he shook his head and you stood up, wrapping your arms around his neck. he looked up at you, pulling you down to press a kiss against your lips.

“you’re mine.” he said softly. you nodded, kissing his head.

“forever.” you smiled, glancing at the ring on your finger.

m.list

previous work (gossiping with kenma) | next work (situationship)

requests are open!!

[lilliankoo]

play you like a game, boy || chapter 2.

🗡️ antagonist jungkook x princess reader

trope: "he's mean to everyone but worships the ground you walk on", will absolutely do anything for you, strangers to lovers.

word count: 2.1k

chapter 1 chapter 3

synopsis: he looks like an angel but is a devil- well that's what your kingdom thinks. he is also the blessed leader of tribe "lav"; even a leaf cannot move without his permission but here he was in-front of you on his knees. while the whole tribe bows to him- he only bows to you. now, there are two paths presented to you- marry him & return his love or refuse & watch him conquer your father's kingdom. power is an evil yet a tempting apple-and now its in your hands- are you going to take a bite; taste the sweet poison or will you use it to tempt others? its an evil world with evil options.. do you think you can handle him?

chapter warnings: mention of blood, machete. rituals, mentions of sacrifices, kissing, possessive jungkook, slightly jealous jungkook, simp jungkook, calling the reader “mother”.

————————————————————————

You are confused, and so are your parents. You can tell by the way they both look at you, then at Jungkook.

"Ritual?" your father asks, his voice filled with uncertainty.

Jungkook gives a slight smile, looking around, and you can't quite read the expression on his face. Whatever is going on inside his mind, you're sure it's not good. He sighs and takes a few steps back.

"Here in Lav, we don't believe in marriages. We perform a soul-tying ritual," he says.

The words sound foreign, almost alien to your ears. Your brows furrow instinctively, a wave of confusion washing over you. You’re too scared to look at your parents right now. You glance at Jungkook instead, noticing the way his eyes seem to drink you in—too much adoration, compassion, care... love. Your mother had been right; Jungkook is indeed in love with you.

You gulp, trying to steady your racing heart, and look at your father, standing next to you. He meets your gaze and, without a word, intertwines his hand with yours. You find solace in the familiar gesture. Growing up, you’d always been closer to your father than your mother, but what you don’t notice is the way Jungkook’s jaw clenches, the silent fury in his gaze as he looks at your father.

Jungkook clears his throat, his tone soft but firm as he extends his hand toward you. “Come,” he murmurs.

You hesitate, unsure of what to do. But your father squeezes your hand in reassurance. It’s unspoken, but you understand the message: don’t ruin this. Slowly, you take Jungkook’s hand and follow him up the stairs toward the platform. He leads you to stand in front of two chairs, centered on the stage, while your parents stand by the side with the villagers.

You turn back to glance at them when, suddenly, an elderly man approaches, draping a large mantle made of fur and leather over your shoulders. As he does, he mutters a prayer in a language you don't understand. The mantle is identical to Jungkook's, except for one difference—his mantle bears a tiger’s head perched on top. The sight unsettles you, but you try not to dwell on it.

At the stage with you and Jungkook, besides the old man, stand two women and the man who brought you here earlier. One of the women, dressed in brown leather, steps forward, smiling warmly. She speaks to Jungkook, and he nods. He motions for you to sit. You comply, but the tight corset and heavy mantle make it difficult. You try to fold the dress by your feet, but the corset gives you little room to move.

Without hesitation, Jungkook kneels before you, adjusting your dress with surprising tenderness. A strange, unfamiliar sensation tugs at your chest. As he does so, you notice the shocked expressions of the onlookers—the elderly man’s mouth hangs open, the women exchange bewildered glances, and the crowd murmurs amongst themselves. Your parents stand frozen, your father’s mouth agape while your mother wears a knowing smirk, her eyes gleaming with the unspoken words: “I told you.”

"Is it okay?" Jungkook’s voice pulls you from your trance, and you nod absentmindedly. His smile returns, a faint glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes, before he stands, sitting back in his chair.

As time passes, preparations for the ritual continue. Everything happening around you feels utterly foreign. A man drums in the corner, another blows into a shell-like instrument, and yet another makes guttural, animal-like sounds. It’s all too much for your senses.

A sharp, shrill noise cuts through the chaos, and your eyes are drawn to a pair of goats, tied to a post in the corner. You can’t shake the growing suspicion that they are here to be sacrificed. A chill runs down your spine at the thought.

As you survey the scene, another woman approaches with a bowl. From your sitting position, you can’t see the contents, but when she dips her fingers into the bowl and reaches for your face, you instinctively lean back. She steps back, waiting for Jungkook’s cue.

He exchanges a few words with her in their native language, then turns to you. “You don’t have to be scared. This is just fuller’s earth clay mixed with rosewater and coconut oil. It’s necessary, a vital part of the ritual.”

His voice is calm, almost too sweet, and for a moment, you doubt his intentions. He gestures to the woman, who begins applying the clay to his throat, drawing a half-moon symbol on his forehead and two parallel lines on his jaw. Once she finishes, she turns to you, and again you recoil.

But this time, you have a plan.

“I want you to apply it,” you say softly, a hint of challenge in your voice.

Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise. The old man, who had draped your mantle, clears his throat and steps forward, perhaps to interject. From what you can gather, Jungkook isn’t supposed to do this. The man speaks, but Jungkook raises a hand, silencing him without even looking in his direction.

With a smile, Jungkook turns to you and nods. The crowd gasps as he cradles your face in his hands, his fingers gently applying the clay, mirroring the symbols on his own face. He tilts your head from side to side, admiring his work, and when his gaze locks with yours, he murmurs, “Pretty.”

Anger rises in you, burning hot. This wasn’t the way you wanted him to act. The ritual, his control, it’s all too much. You feel your jaw clench, your eyes sting with frustration. But you hold it in.

The ritual continues for a while longer, with more strange and uncomfortable actions. You wear a crown-like headband made of peacock feathers, bracelets, threads, and bangles are tied to your wrists, and you’re made to recite several prayers.

Finally, the old man steps forward once more, nodding toward Jungkook.

“The ritual is complete,” the man says. “But one thing remains. To seal it fully, there is still one step left.”

Jungkook turned to you and gently intertwined his hands with yours, making you stand. You both descend the few steps toward the post, but just before you reach it, Jungkook diverts your path toward your parents.

For the first time, your father smiles at you. Your mother, though, looks more relieved than anything. Just as you’re about to embrace them, Jungkook steps in front of you, pulling your father into a hug instead.

“Congratulations,” Jungkook says, his voice sincere.

Your mother echoes the sentiment.

“We would love to have you both stay, but the next ritual is only for the people of Lav,” Jungkook says, his gaze turning to your father. “The carriage is ready.” He gestures toward the vehicle in the distance.

A wave of dread washes over you as your father nods, though he quickly asks if they can speak with you privately. Jungkook denies the request, telling him to say whatever he wants in front of him.

“Take care. May the gods be with you,” your father says softly, caressing your head.

“You’ll be fine here, my baby. Jungkook will keep you safe,” your mother says, her eyes fixed on him.

The weight of their departure hits you like a ton of bricks. Tears slip down your face, and you throw your arms around your parents, desperate not to let go.

“I want to go with you,” you plead, but before your father can respond, Jungkook steps forward.

“You cannot,” he says, his voice low and firm.

Rage flares up inside you, and suddenly everything feels too tight. The mantle, the crown, the bracelets—all feel suffocating. You try to pull at them desperately, your jaw clenched, tears streaming down your face. Jungkook grabs your arms to steady you, forcing you to meet his gaze.

For the first time today, you see the real Jungkook. His brows are furrowed, his jaw clenched, and the love that once seemed to soften him is gone. “You are my woman now,” he breathes, his voice low and serious. “You are the mother of this forest and these people. If you leave, everyone will die—including the forest, the people, and me. We are tied to you.”

His words strike you silent. You stare at him, searching for something—anything—that might explain this. But he says nothing more.

When he lets go of your arms, he rubs them gently as if apologizing.

—------------------------------------------------------

You watch as the carriage pulls away, your parents leaving you behind in this strange village.

“Come,” Jungkook says, his voice gentle now as he takes your hand. You follow him, the energy drained from you.

“This is the last ritual,” Jungkook whispers in your ear. “After this, we will be each other’s forever.”

His words send a shiver through your spine. The thought of living here as his "wife" does not sit well with you.

“What will happen?” you ask quietly, your heart pounding.

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately. He takes a deep breath and squeezes your hand. “We are going to gift our forest goddess, Devti. This day wouldn’t have been possible without her,” he says.

Before you can ask another question, a woman steps forward with a machete in hand. Your eyes widen in horror. The goats, the sacrifice—it's happening.

The woman’s voice booms through the clearing. “Everyone, the goddess Devti has blessed us once again. She has given our leader, Jeon Jungkook, another gift. For years, this forest has yearned for a mother, and here she is.”

Your mind reels at the mention of “mother.”

"Today, Jeon Jungkook and Y/N became one. Today, Lav and its people got their mother," she finishes, and the crowd erupts in deafening cheers.

“May Devti keep blessing the Lav, protect her people, and may Devti bless our leader Jungkook and mother Y/N with a prosperous future,” the woman concludes.

The crowd chants, “No man can defeat him, for he is blessed by the Devti.”

You are trembling. The weight of the machete in your hand feels too heavy. The goats cry in terror, and for a moment, you wonder if they know what’s coming. You look at Jungkook, but his smile only intensifies your fear.

"Go on," he urges softly. "Give her blood."

You shake your head, your breath quickening. You cannot bring yourself to kill innocent creatures. With trembling hands, you pass the machete back to Jungkook.

"I can't," you whisper. "I can't kill them."

Jungkook’s eyes soften, and he places a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Y/N, my love, this isn’t killing. It’s offering blood to the goddess."

But nothing he says helps. You are suffocating, your mind reeling, when a sudden idea flashes across your mind.

“Jungkook,” you say, your voice shaking but resolute. “Your goddess needs blood, right?”

He nods, sensing your change of tone.

“Well,” you continue, looking directly at him, “I don't want to kill the goats. They're babies, they should be with their mother. But... if she wants blood...” You pause, wiping your tears. “Then give her yours.”

You place your head against his chest, allowing yourself a moment of quiet satisfaction as his eyes widen.

But before he can react, one of the villagers steps forward, his voice protesting.

“That’s against the ritual,” he says.

You don’t give him a chance to finish. You step in front of him and snap, “Do not interfere while I’m speaking to my husband.”

The man immediately bows, a look of fear crossing his face.

Jungkook steps forward, his hand on your back, as he pushes the man away. “Only talk to my wife like that if you want to become one with the fire,” he warns, his voice cold.

You stand there, momentarily taken aback by his response. You suppress a smirk.

In a sudden motion, Jungkook grabs the machete, surprising the crowd when he slides the blade across his palm. Blood drips from his hand as he walks toward the stone statue of the goddess Devti. He wipes the blood over the stone, breathing heavily as the air grows thick with tension.

The crowd stands frozen in place, too afraid to make a sound. The silence is suffocating, and for reasons you cannot explain, you suddenly find yourself walking toward him.

In that moment, something inside you shifts. You grab his face and kiss him.

For a brief second, he is caught off guard, but then his hands find their place around you, pulling you closer. He cradles your jaw with his blood covered hand, he moans into the kiss. You break the kiss, suddenly aware of your surroundings.

Before anything else can happen, the old man steps forward, taking the machete from Jungkook and casting it aside.

He pats Jungkook on the back, his voice booming across the gathering.

“May the goddess approve of this,” he says. “May she bless the mother as she has blessed this village. From this day, till the very end, Mother Y/N and Jeon Jungkook shall be together.”

The crowd erupts in cheers, and your future here begins to solidify.

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next chapter

taglist: @jincapableoflove @voitier @koocreampie @kookxin @mysticprincessstrawberry @imwutim @synamon @withmuchluv-tannie @taekritimin123 let me know if u would like to be added.

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thank you so much for the love on this fic, im happy that you guys are enjoying it :) i have so many more cool ideas, once i finish this series i will start posting them.

[quokkaholic]

Otaku Hot Boys minsung

Warnings/tags: MDNI, smut w/plot, friends to ?poly?, picking on reader, cussing, light degradation, some mxm but like its not the focus, giggly, sweet, threesome with some body worship, oral both, protected👏 p in v, subby!Han bc i can’t stop myself, dom!Lee know the dynamics only extend to the reader, shy/embarrassed reader, weeb slander. This is biased towards Han bc I too am biased towards Han. Lightly edited

Synopsis: At your weekly "otaku club" to discuss all things manga/anime with your two close friends, they seem to be a bit too interested in your recent spike in bl media enjoyment.��

Terms for you non-losers: bl/yaoi- boys love or media centered on gay relationships, gl/yuri- girls love or media centered on lesbian relationships, otaku- person consumed by their interests (typically anime, manga, video games, etc.), fujoshi-means rotten girl, it's typically a girl who is really into bl media

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨(๑ > ᴗ < ๑)୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨(๑ > ᴗ < ๑)୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Tonight is the night. The night you look forward to every week. It's your friends’ otaku club night, the night where you and your two fellow weebs get together to talk about any new media you’ve consumed typically centered around anime and manga. You've been steeped in this type of media since the moment you were introduced to it years ago. So much so that, you even became a part time worker at your local manga cafe/bookstore. Beyond supplying some extra income, the employee discount is unbeatable. At work is actually where you met the guys.

Minho wandered in one day, drawn in by the cheerful anime themes bumping through the speakers and the promise of cute, themed drinks. After ordering a pudding latte, he browsed the isles for what seemed like an eternity, long enough that you actually went to offer assistance, which you never do. Generally speaking, anime lovers aren’t the most comfortable in social situations, and you were no exception. Plus, the type of person that comes to a manga cafe tends to know what they like, or came in for a specific title. 

He had done a few laps around the place before you decided it was enough, you had to say something. You begrudgingly placed down the volume you were enjoying, being careful to keep your spot but not damage the book, as you weren’t intending to buy it. If you bought every volume of every manga you read, you’d be hugely indebted to this place, more than you already are; the owner, luckily, is cool enough to allow you to take some books home and just deduct the total from your next paycheck. Approaching the seemingly lost Minho, you greet him,

“Hi, is there something I can help you find?” your ears heating at simply having to speak to him. 

“Oh no!” he responds surprised as you have pulled him out of his mind and back to reality, 

“I’ve never been here and was just looking around; you guys have a great selection, good mix of the new, classic, and obscure,” he compliments between sips. The nerves have you briefly spacing out on the chunks of pudding rising up the straw, snapping out of it when you notice the silence. Its your turn to talk, 

“Yes, thank you, I’ll be sure to tell the owner, she’ll really appreciate that. Well—let me know if you need anything,” you rush away, retreating back to the stool behind the counter to pick up where you left off. Minho continued to look around for a while, occasionally picking up a book to read the back cover or sample the art style. He remained until he finally checked his phone, eyes bugging at the time displayed. He practically ran out the door, but not before apologizing for not buying anything and promising he would return with his roommate, and he did later that week. 

You three were not fast friends. They, like your typical customer, kept to themselves. Similar to Minho, Han’s first time in the store was spent in awe, walking up and down the same isles trying to take in the entire stock while sucking down the chocolatiest drink on the menu. After that, they were regulars. Visiting at least once a week, buying a few volumes or anime merch each but sometimes just visiting for a sweet treat of tea or coffee.

Though you never talked to them outside of your scripted retail speech, you were always happy to see them in the store. They were admittedly pleasant to look at, but beyond that they were always kind and friendly to you, and it was cute to see the best friends interact. You longed for a relationship like that. You had a few good friends, but none of them shared your interest in this form of media. You could talk about it with customers, but you could never share your unadulterated opinions or gossip about characters with the strangers. On top of being a joy to look at and interact with, the guys actually had good and diverse tastes, not just solely interested in shonen, action, and fanservice. You had actually picked up a few of the stories they had bought from you. Some you had heard of and some were definitely outside of your typical genres, but they were all shockingly good, one of them even making it into your top tier. After finishing their unknowing recommendations, you’d toy with the idea of complementing their choices, practicing what you’d say if you saw them at work. 

Of course, they would never come in on the days where you had built up the courage to say something, and you’d tell yourself you were disappointed, but it was secretly a relief. Then, when they would be there, you’d find some other reason not to say anything, maybe they looked like they were in a hurry, or were too deep in their own conversation, or you’d simply psyched yourself out of it by convincing yourself that they would be weirded out by how much attention you pay to their purchases. This went on for weeks until finally Jisung crossed that customer/employee line for you. He eagerly strode up to the counter, Minho following leisurely in toe, with the first volume of the manga you were currently enjoying at your post by the register, 

“I’ve seen you reading this series the last few times we’ve come in, is it any good?” he’d asked cooly, placing it along with a few others in front of you to ring up. His impassioned energy and deviation from your usual interaction, made your heart race and stomach flip. You didn’t or maybe couldn’t respond, just stared as he minorly fumbled around checking all his pockets for his wallet. You stayed like that for a few moments until Minho finally arrived at the counter, casually reaching into his jacket and pulling out the man's wallet and handing it to him only after bumping him with his elbow in a silent scold for misplacing the wallet for the umpteenth time. 

“Oh— yeah. It’s definitely worth a read; I have my issues with the plot, but stunning art makes up for it,” you’ve probably already said too much. You’re paid to make sales, not to be a manga critic, but Jisung doesn’t make any moves to put the book back. He just hands you his card like always, before asking,

“Really, like what?” That’s where the friendship started. That day, they stayed leaned up against the counter until the end of your shift discussing their recent reads and watches and asking your opinions on the classics to gauge how similar your tastes were, of which they were shockingly similar. Although you were nervous at first, you had built at least a little rapport with them through the months of being their cashier, and talking about a major interest of yours made it that much easier to overcome any sort of social anxiety on both yours and their parts. Even after it was time for you to head home, Minho bought you a drink from the cafe, and you all found a quiet corner to continue your discussion. This became a regular occurrence. If you were there when they came in, and they didn’t have somewhere else to be, they’d spend time nerding out with you. Eventually, they learned your schedule, and made sure to come in on your shifts to hangout. It was never an issue beyond the occasional shush from reading customers when your “friendly” debates got a bit too rowdy.

You never liked the shift manager; they were unsympathetic and rude, doing things like denying time off requests for no good reason and timing breaks just to excerpt any semblance of power they had over the other workers. They even tried to get you in trouble for reading on the job, when you first started, but luckily the owner was able to pick up on the blatant absurdity of the complaint. Since then you didn’t have any more problems with them, but at the staff meeting when they made a “completely general” and “unpointed” comment about ensuring we weren’t neglecting job duties to “flirt with hot boys”, you knew they were talking straight at you. Despite always getting all you work done and then some, you knew you had to put an end to the on-the-clock book club, or it would become an actual problem, warranted or not. 

The thought of not getting to hang out with Jisung and Minho circulated your mind non-stop after the initial embarrassment and anger over getting indirectly called out at work. Not only were you anxious to have a weird friend breakup, you were sad that you could be back to having no one to talk to about your more niche interests. They’d never seemed interested in seeing you outside of work; would this be the end?

You endlessly mulled over how to deal with it until the very second they walked through the door on your next shift, their cheery faces dropped upon laying eyes on your obviously stressed demeanor. They’d whisper something back and forth before speed walking straight over to cautiously greet you.

“Hey guys,” you say, cringing at the thought of what you’re gonna say next, “so I may have gotten in some pseudo trouble and was told I can’t hangout at work any more,” you quickly spat out, trying to get it over with as soon as possible, and they just stared back expectedly, waiting for whatever has you so visibly upset, as if you didn’t just say it.

“That’s it?” Jisung asks as almost simultaneously Minho snarkily remarked,

“It's about time. You don’t get anything done when we’re here.” sending you a mocking disappointed glare. 

“I will not stand for the slander. Maybe from the manager, but not from you. I always get my tasks done while providing satisfactory customer service. It’s usually a race against the clock after you guys leave, but it always gets done,” you drone on, finding yourself getting a little defensive at his jest causing his smirk to widen to a full smile. You’ve grown to learn that Minho enjoys playful arguments maybe a little too much, but you attempt put an end to it before it can spiral,

“Whatever, I don’t need to defend myself to you,” 

“Not me, but maybe this manager of yours,” mocking you for not standing up for yourself. He never poked fun at you before, so you know its a sign of his friendship, but as if on cue, sensing that you are taking the bait, Jisung butts back in,

“Really though is that it? Is that what has you worried?” You were the one staring back in anticipating and stunned,

“Of course I’m upset; I just said we can’t hangout anymore,” you tried to explain calmly, but you were feeling frantic due to their apparent lack of care at the idea of not talking anymore. Ji’s eyebrows knit together in utter confusion before looking over to his best friend who was looking once again disappointed in you with a slow shaking of his head.

“We can’t hang out here while you’re working,” he slows down his speech emphasizing the key parts of your mandate, hoping you can gather why they aren’t worried about the future of your relationship. While you remained confused, Jisung’s forehead relaxes as his face turns to one of realization, mouth forming a perfect O before returning to his just-entered-my-favorite-bookstore smile and shrugs his shoulders to brush off your concern before he offered the most obvious solution,

 “You’ll just start coming over to our place,” he stated, as if it were nothing. He didn’t ask, it was plain to them. You weren’t exiting their life, you were entering their apartment. Minho’s lazy shaking turned to nobbing as if he had been just waiting for you two to finally catch up. That was the end of that. They quickly grabbed what they came for but did stay and chat for a little, but only to make plans for you to come to their place that weekend. 

Such was the inception of your weekly otaku club, meeting at their place once a week or having a group call when schedules got too hectic. With weekly meetings, they quickly climbed the ranks, and have become some of your best friends. This week was the first in person session you had in weeks, and you were beyond ecstatic, stopping at the store to grab drinks and desserts as they were providing the meal and snacks. Upon entering the familiar flat, you remove your shoes and head to the source of the delicious smell and friendly voices. You find the guys setting out the snack and plates for the food Minho must’ve cooked, it looks too good for Jisung to be responsible. 

After the meal, you all follow the cute book club ritual of pulling out the books you have been enjoying, and have a show and tell, even though you all already know what eachother are reading. Jisung is working through a sports drama you had recommended, and Minho explained the convoluted plot of the isekai he just got into. When it was your turn you lifted the brightly colored, second to last, volume of the series, you’ve absolutely flown through over the past week,

“I’m almost done with this romance. It’s kind of short, but I have really enjoyed it, and I feel like they took the story in a new and interesting direction,” you continue to give a brief synopsis of the story, leaving out any spoilers, in case they want to read it after you. They had a few questions about the plot and your feelings on it, but there was one blaring question they really wanted to know the answer to,

“What kind of romance?” Ji asked with an inquisitive expression, but it wasn’t pure, there was just a twinge of mischief in his eyes,

“It's an office romance,” you explain hesitantly, trying not to sound condescending as you just gave the summary. 

“Yeah?” Minho chimes in trying to draw the answer they really want out of you.

“Well the main guys are office workers, so its an adult office romance,” your statement sound more like a question as the last words pitch up and die off. You go on, thinking there’s no way they are this dense, and they aren’t, but you might be. At the mention of the main characters being guys, they share a knowing look, silently communicating something to each other, leaving you out of their telepathic conversion. 

“Don’t make it weird! I read romance about all sorts of relationships,” they have matching stupid grins as they go back to munching on their food, letting you sit in your slight embarrassment at their implicative shared look. Minho gives that look that says, he’s trying to rile you up before askings nonchalantly, as if there are no intentions behind his words, 

“Wasn’t the last series you read yaoi as well?”

“I mean yeah, but Jisung recommended it! It was a good story,” Minho just gives a grunt of acknowledgement to say ‘sure whatever’. Jisung giggles at Minho’s antics, but doesn’t comment. He looks at you with a goofy smile and slight sympathy for the teasing as he searches your face for any signs that Minho is getting to you, but he of course is not. You’re used to banter from Minho, and honestly Jisung too. Maybe being away from you for so long had softened him up a bit, or maybe it was his favorite beer you had brought a case of. 

You thought it was the alcohol that buttered Jisung up, but instead the drinks just opened the razzing flood gates. The “bl lover” schtick continues through the evening. The poking fun is usually spread evenly among you three, and if one person becomes the butt of the joke for the night, it never continues to next week so as to not make anyone the punching bag. They love to tease, but are also very considerate about not crossing the line. The hippocratic taunting continues no matter how many times you remind them of all the yuri, yaoi, and straight romances they themselves had brought to book club. Later, when you play a few rounds of video games, they add ‘fujoshi’ to the normal colorful language they use to curse your name the times you end up winning. Sometimes you guys will pick a show to watch together, and although you guys decided to forgo that tonight in favor of catching up, you still pursue the streaming sites sharing insights to for next week, and they hover over every bl they come across and jokingly suggest it or ask you opinion as if you had already seen them all, or simply just stare in your direction with raised eyebrows. 

Around the time you usually excuse yourself and head home, you are all sitting around the coffee table finishing off the beer and munching on the snacks. You begin gathering your empty cans and miscellaneous trash, and the conversation abruptly halts as Min sternly questions your actions.

“Just wanted to clean up a bit before heading out,” you explain, rising to your knees to reach for some of their garbage since you’re already headed to the kitchen.

“You should stay here,” he says matter of factly shoving another chip into his mouth and gesturing to the empty beers in your arms, taking the rational approach. Jisung, with his sweet round eyes staring up at you, chimes in with the emotional persuasion. They make a great team.

“The couch is really comfy, I promise.”

“I’ve only had four of these beers over the past few hours, plus I took the bus here anyway,” attempting to politely decline. It would be nice not having to make the commute home at this hour, but you’d hate to burden them.

“The last bus is in 20 minutes, you’d have to run to the nearest stop,” Minho makes a good point, but the cringey thought of them having to kick you out the next morning allows you to remain stubborn, but before you can refuse again, Han’s words make your heart squeeze,

“We don’t want you to leave,” now you’re definitely staying. You still take the trash to the kitchen and sort out the recycling before grabbing one more round of beers from their stash upon the guys’ request. You resume chatting over some background music, occasionally singing along. While you are far from drunk, with the alcohol in your system, it's getting harder and harder to ignore how devastatingly good looking your two friends are. It doesn’t help that their frequent whispering back and forth gives you ample uninterrupted time to gawk. They are of course closer to each other than they are with you, but it does seem like they’ve been conspiring quite a bit more than usual. 

A chaste glance from Jisung breaks your trance. He turns back to Minho and it is your turn to look anywhere but at them, studying the rug, reading the nutrition facts on your drink, admiring the wall decor, looking away until you can get your blushing under control. Your efforts were all in vain, as when you finally look back towards the men across the table, you lock eyes with them as if they were waiting for your gaze to fall on them before doing the very last thing you ever would’ve expected. They stare back at you with a look commanding your eyes to remain locked on them as they turn to each other, already closer to one another than the last time you looked their way. Minho looks down to Han’s plush lips just as his tongue peaks out to moisten them putting on a sultry show for you. Minho gives a miniscule nod before they lean closer impossibly slow to drag out your suspense. 

Are they really doing this? Talk about committed to the bit. The moment their lips meet, you can’t help the gasp that escapes you, causing the corners of their connected lips to quirk up. This is exactly what they wanted. The kiss wasn’t long, but to you watching, it felt like an eternity. You tried to look away, but you just couldn't, maybe due to your own curiosity or maybe as to not disobey their silent order to watch. When they pull away a thin string of saliva still connecting them, the slightly raised corners of their spread to full faced grins at the sight of your hands shooting up to cover your flushing face.

“I think she liked it,” Jisung remarks, running his hands through his hair, pushing back the stands that fell out of place during the kiss. His typical silly, awkward self melting away leaving behind his confident, charismatic side you had seen on a few occasions, emboldened by him and his best friends scheme going just as they had hoped.

“I knew it,” Minho adds, even though you haven’t built up the courage to look at them, he sounds closer to you than before.

“She’s a freak just like we thought,” he adds, definitely closer. Once you gather the strength to uncover your face, you find your friends have moved to join you on your side of the table, one on either side near enough to feel the heat radiating off their bodies. Though they haven’t explicitly stated it, their intentions are beyond clear, their eyes hungrily wandering over you,

“Do you want this?” Minho questioned in a low and calm tone, tamping down his eagerness until you give him an answer,

“If not, we can blame this on the liquor and just move past it, pretend nothing even happened,” Jisung assures you, unable to conceal his brimming desire as well as Minho, his eyes locked on your lips as he reaches for your hand for support. Staring down at your intertwined fingers, you contemplate for a moment,

“I do, but—” you start, Minho’s hand slipping into your field to rest on your mid thigh, softly moving his fingers side to side in reassurance,

“What about our friendship? What about otaku club?” your query makes them giggle, embuing you with the strength to look up to their eyes. They are quick to answer, as if they prepared for this exact question beforehand, Jisung talks first,

“Nothing has to change if we don’t want it to,” he speaks into your hair as he leans in to plant a sweet kiss to the side of your skull, when Minho picks up where he left off,

“We really like you y/n, and love spending time with you. Whether we go back to the way it was or forge something new, we aren’t going anywhere. I’m not sure of anything beyond that, and that we’ve wanted this for a long time,” his words make your heart lurch. God you’ve wanted them too, but didn’t want to jeopardize the amazing relationship you had built. You know them. You trust them. You can navigate this together. A small nod of your head has Minho smashing his lips to yours, passionately enough to suck the air from your lungs.

His kiss is powerful and demanding while still being highly cognisant of your response and adjusting his fire to keep you comfortable. Your mingling lips quickly find timing against each other, his tongue gently coaxing your lips to part for him to explore you. Tingles flooding your body when his warm tongue finally touches yours. 

Jisung continues to kiss along the side of your head and down to your ear. He places feathery kisses over the cartilage, playfully nipping at your earlobe, careful to avoid your piercing. He lets out a happy sound when you squeeze the hand he’s still loyally gripping. He trails his kisses down to the soft spot below your ear before peppering your cheek, inching to your lips ready for his turn with your mouth. He gets close enough to catch the corner of your mouth in his before he’s able to bully Minho off you. You’re barely able to take a breath before Jisung’s lips are on yours. His movements are more timid but also more desperate, his need evident in his pace and little groans. This moment is better than you could've ever imagined. Despite Ji’s neediness, you are the one giving short licks at his full bottom lip asking for entrance, which he grants immediately. 

Minho has moved to your neck, sucking and kissing, his arm snaking around your waist pulling you closer to them. Arching into them, your hands slide up to rest on their built chests, and you can feel them both smiling against your skin. Your chest is heaving from the lack of oxygen and immense lust thick in the air.

“We should get off the floor; I fear if we don’t do it now, you’ll be bent over the coffee table,” Jisung suggests causing Minho to let out a hushed laugh. Despite knowing full well that is where the night is headed, you can’t help your coyness at his words. It’s hard to believe this is actually happening. Both men rise and extend hands to help your ascent, which you are more than grateful as the heady desire coursing through your veins has you feeling unsteady. They guide you to the hallway, shooting glances between one another, having one of their classic silent talks, but this time it seems more like an argument as you all stand at the point of the walkway where you have to decide which path to take to each of their rooms, knowing you will probably end up sleeping in whichever bed you land in. They attempt to make you choose, but you refuse to pick sides, both rooms are lovely and each bed equally comfortable. You just want to be with them. Minho makes the decision for you all when he drags you towards his room, just tired of trying to get two indecisive people to make a simple choice. 

Minho’s room is just as you remembered, simultaneously minimal but full of little pieces that make it full of character. There's no time to look at the new photos on the mirror or trinkets on the desk before you're playfully pushed towards the bed urging you to jump on, crawling to the center in order to make room for them, expecting them to follow you. But when you turn your back to the luxe pillows, you find yourself alone in the big bed with a cheek cramping grin on your face that melts when you see them removing their shirts and tossing them to the corner before approaching the end of the mattress staring down at you. Your mouth slightly agape as you take in their tan skin and sculpted builds, 

“This is so fucked up,” you strangle out of your drying throat, shaking your head in disbelief, and they just chuckle and move to join you. You sit legs outstretched in front of you, and they’re each on their knees sitting back on their ankles. They get you high on love, taking turns passing your lips back and forth, as the other plays with your hair, or rubs your shoulders, or simply lets their hands roam your torso. It is impossible to tell how long this went on, the only moments of clarity being when a gentle hand would guide you off one with a brief second for you to fill your lungs breath before connecting to the other. However, the makeout session is punctuated by the tug you feel on the bottom of your shirt to which to instinctively raise your arms for its removal which immediately follows, causing Jisung to groan, annoyed he had to release your lips before he was ready. 

Much to your dismay, neither pair of lips return to yours once you’ve been disrobed, the men just lean back to drink in the sight, causing your skin to burn impossibly hotter, your exposed chest flaring with redness that their eyes seemingly can’t be pulled from. If this is actually going to happen, you can’t be mortified the whole time,

“I swear, if you guys keep embarrassing me, we’ll have to stop. I can’t take it,” you half confess and half warn the pair, but it doesn’t shake their gazes.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Jisung offers his apology but continues defiling you with his eyes.

“We’re just as shocked as you, jagi, just let us savor it,” Minho defends their staring while lightly scolding you right back. You start to feel cold from the lack of touch, but luckily, Jisung cracks, diving into the crook of your neck licking down, across your collarbone, to the crevice between your breasts before kissing up the swells. Minho takes a different approach. He shifts his seating and leans down. He pulls the waist of your pants just enough to expose your hip bone that he gives a hard open mouthed kiss before working his way up to meet Han, worshiping your tummy and waist. They meet at your chest, quickly going to work with their hands and mouths. Jisung’s more needy palming is juxtaposed by Minho's firm, but cautious grasping, as they work in tandem to kiss every inch from the base of your neck to your shoulders to your sternum before finally landing on your sensitive buds with just the most gentle of kisses causing the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding to release in a sigh. While they both had distinct styles, Jisung using wilder, sloppy strokes and Minho more direct and teasing, they were both gentle and attentive, causing your abdomen to tense, barely raising your shoulders off the cushions you rest against, and soft moans to pour from your lips.

When you compose yourself enough to look down at them, you once again find them staring at you, up through their thick lashes, pure adoration in their faces. The sight causes your head to fall back with a groan, mostly due to the absolutely errotic vision and feeling, but also partly at being tired of them being so damn perfect. Maybe you really were the pervert they imagined; this has to be some sort of hyper realistic wet dream. You have all been too consumed by lust to talk but Minho speaks up for the first time in a bit with a snarky remark,

“We can’t stop embarrassing you, if everything we do makes you embarrassed,” he chides against your velvety skin. Causing you to giggle and place your hand on his cheek and try to push him away in retribution, but he clamps down not hard enough to hurt, but when you start to push his head, it tugs on your nipple, hissing as your hand to fall limp at your side for him to continue his torture. 

At your submission, he lets out a sound of satisfaction and resumes his pilgrimage back the way he came, moving back down your body, hooking his fingers in your waistbands, and you rise for him to rid you of your final pieces of clothing. Jisung’s passionate tonguing winds back down to loud kisses and then to slightly shaking his head side to side, ghosting his softly smiling lips over the bud, pulling whimpers from your swollen lips. After a quick kiss, he shuffles around, to sit amongst the pillows, slotting you between his legs. Turning your head to the side, he gives a loving kiss to your temple before wrapping his arms around you, holding you to his front and lazily kissing up and down the column of your neck and shoulder. 

You between Jisung’s legs and Min between yours, the beautiful man is covering your hips and thighs with wet kisses. You gaze down and see Minho’s bunny pink lips inches from where you need him, hot breath fanning over your slick core, using his fingers to spread you, just admiring. You lean your head back to rest on Jisung’s shoulder to brace yourself for the incoming rush pleasure. As you anticipated, Min’s first probing lick already has you arching into his mouth, gasping, pushing back into the warm chest of the man behind you. All of the foreplay combined with the months of yearning have you reaching an unprecedented level of sensitivity; it won’t take much, especially with Minho’s skilled movements. He gives an arrogant huff against your cunt at the way he already has you squirming on his tongue sending delicious vibrations that only make you squirm harder. He skims his index finger up your thigh as a sign of what he is about to do, not wanting to shock you when he slides the finder inside just to the first knuckle. He slowly plunges it in and out while sucking mercilessly on your clit, drawing noises from you that will haunt his dreams for the foreseeable future.

Jisung is checking in regularly to which you always respond positively, but still Minho pumps the brakes for a brief moment to allow you to calm down a little. He moves to kissing over your silken folds before giving small, soft licks to either side of your clit, giving the perfect amount of pressure and teasing. Your eyes are screwed shut, and the breath is caught in your chest as you feel your climax barreling towards you. Pulled from you blissful rapture by Ji’s voice,

“Breathe, baby. Look at Minho; doesn’t he look so pretty?” His words alone could have made you cum, but when you peel your eyes open and raise you head to see the cat like man giving you the most seductive eyes, his nose and lips glistening in your essence, white hot pleasure explodes through your body with a flood of curses out of your lips. You lie there, panting, weak in Jiusung’s arms as he lightly drags his fingers up and down your arms and across your chest soothing your involuntary tremors. The sound of the condom wrapper being torn open reminds you of where you are. You see Minho finishing rolling on the protection on his flushed cock, and he shoots back a faux guilty look, like you’d caught him in a naughty act, he giggles before asking one last time,

“You want this?” He asks with a cheeky smirk, half confirming consent and half teasing out your desperation. You respond, over feeling bashful about your desires,

“So bad, babe,” with a grin, he grabs your hips and twists them, encouraging you to flip over on to all fours over Jisung who is smiling massive and genuinely up at you before puckering, asking for more kisses. Minho is kneading your ass probably the roughest he’d been all night, as he lines himself with your entrance. He teases you with the tip, dipping it in once, twice, and then rubbing it through your slick lips, causing you to whimper against Jisung. When he goes to enter, he takes it painfully slowly, inching in while raking his fingers down your back in a sign of affection, loving the way it makes you shiver,

“Minho you feel so—so good,” you sputter out, complimenting the way Minho makes your brain go fuzzy. He just gives a cocky hum back in response, trying to act cool, but truthfully he doesn’t trust his voice enough to speak. Your lips reconnect to Jisung’s as you reach down into his sweats to give him some well deserved attention. He lets out a long groan against your lips, bucking up into your hand. Minho’s fighting his moans, but they escape out in strangled grunts. His slow thrusts gain in speed as he grips tightly to you hips, but he remains fucking impossibly deep, leaning forward to kiss your shoulders and upper back, pushing you back to your climax. You and Jisung are trading sounds of pleasure into eachothers open mouths, pumping him in time with the thrusts, he’s lost in the pleasure, until his realizes his orgasm approaching at lightning speed, shocking him, and he begs for you to stop the twisting of your wrist,

“Please don’t make me cum. I want to fuck you so bad, please,” he's thankful when your hand flies from his cock to land on beside his head to you steady your shaking body. When he is sure your orgasm is passed, Minho frantically frees himself, ripping off the condom, and coming around to face you, kneeling, pumping himself to keep himself on the edge. Jisung shimmies out from under you allowing Minho to scoot closer looking at you with pleading eyes. You open for him and he is instantly in your mouth. You take him as far as you can, causing the saliva to build in your mouth to slick him up. You find your rhythm, occasionally focusing on the tip and swirling your tongue around it before returning to taking all of him. He is no longer holding back cries, groaning and hissing at your moves. He runs his fingers through your hair, before dragging his fingers down your cheek to caress your chin, staring down at you,

“So fucking gorgeous, feels so good,” your pattern of sucking and licking is harshly interrupted when you hear spitting and feel warm liquid slide down your cunt threatening to drip off before Hans’s flattends tongue licks a broad stripe up you slit, forcing a muffled shout to revererate from you and you to lurch forward in surprise. You lightly gag around Minho, catching you both by surprise. The motion causes Minho to paint your throat with a string of whines,

“Ah, ah, aaah—” You swallow, loving his taste. He dramatically falls to the bed with a look of pure bliss plastered on his face. He moves to you to bestow a few passionate kisses laced with gratitude to your puffy lips before rolling off the bed. You are too distracted by the euphoria flowing through you to see where he goes as Jisung is devouring you, every lick, languid but methodical, wanting to gather every last drop of your essence. It's messy and hot, and when you look down, between your legs, you not only Ji’s angry cock oozing precum, but the growing pool under you of your juices and his spit drooling off your pussy. You plea to him. You don’t want this to end, but you are so dumb on pleasure and needy, you want him inside you,

“Hannie, I need you inside, please,” but he doesn’t budge. He might be wanting to draw yet another orgasm from you, but it's more likely that he is too pussydrunk and is just hypnotized by your addictive taste and filthy sounds,

“Jisung, please,” you try again, as Minho enters again, holding waters and towels. After placing the goodies on the nightstand, he crawls back into bed beside you, admiring the salacious scene before him and your sweet sullied expression before nudging Jisung,

“Give the girl what she wants, before I do,” Ji releases your pussy with a wet pop and once again, your hips are grabbed, guiding you to flip over, this time having to aid you a bit more as your muscles are starting to give out. Jisung gives your forehead a kiss before aligning himself with your entrance, but is interrupted by the flying condom smacks him in the chest and falls to land on your stomach. He swiftly tears it open and rolls it on, embarrassed that he almost forgot, caught up in the moment as Minho shames him under his breath. Minho holds your chin to face him as Jisung slips in, watching you intently since he didn't get to see your face when he had his way with you. He holds your gaze, and when you try to close your eyes, he gently taps your cheek reminding you to return his gaze. Jisung is savagely pounding into you. He has been waiting for so long, as much as he wanted to be sensual like Minho, right now, he just couldn't hold back,

“You’re perfect, baby. Shit, i’m not gonna last,” he mumbles, thrust already getting erratic. Minho frees you when Jisung falls forward onto his forearms to cage you in, attacking your mouth with desperate kisses, the kissing shifts to just moaning and whimpering into each other as you both reach your highs, Jisung mumbling your name on repeat, looking almost as wrecked as you, giving a few final powerful thrusts before collapsing down to your other side. The room is quiet besides the heavy breathing as you all bask in the lustful aura, Min breaks the silence,

“I can speak for Jisung on this, when are the vows?” he chuckles out, causing you all to burst into breathy laughter. After cleaning up and hydrating, you all lay in bed together rolling around snuggling and kissing in the post-sex lovey state. Minho goes to the bathroom to complete his night time routine leaving you in bed with Jisung where you two giggle and take turns tracing imaginary patterns on each other's skin. When Minho returns dewy faced and in neat pajamas, Jisung leaves your side to do the same. Minho holds you tight against his side, your head resting on his chest as he hums, lips pressed into your hair. Jisung offers up some of his boxers and Minho provides a tshirt for you to sleep in, and then you too go wash up and brush your teeth and hair, trying not to get existential or horny while you stare at yourself in the mirror recounting the evening’s events. 

When you return, Minho is already under the covers on his side of the bed. He’s prepped the other side for you, pulling back the covers, giving you some extra pillows, and placing your water and a snack on the nightstand, but Ji is just sitting on the edge of the bed. When you approach he stands and opens his arms for a hug,

“I wanted to wait to say goodnight,” he offers. You can't help the look of disappointment,

“We all it fine on the bed earlier, so couldn’t you just stay? Is that okay?” you ask timidly, that embarrassment you’ve been able to shove down all flooding back since the emboldening lust has been quelled. Jisung doesn’t respond, simply pulls you into a tight embrace. You guess he wasn’t okay with that suggestion, but before you could tell him that it's fine to tell you no, he is tackling you onto the bed, and pulling the duvet up over all three of you causing Minho to give an exasperated sign. 

Breakfast was sure to be interesting, but as you lay curled around Jisung, his thick hair tickling your cheek with Minho pressed to your back, a strong arm slung over your waist resting on Ji’s side, the one thing you know is that you could definitely get used to this. Figuring this out was tomorrow's problem. 

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨(๑ > ᴗ < ๑)୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨(๑ > ᴗ < ๑)୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

pic creds x x x

A.n- Thanks for reading. This is a bit of a longer one. The longest thing I've written in fact. I just hava lot of felling about this. I hope it's not too niche/reaches the right horny nerds

-mo :)

Masterlist

[wonderjanga]

Driver’s Test!

This is Part 2 to this post!

After both of those incidences, it was made very clear to everyone that Marvel was a terrible driver. Any of Billy’s attempts to drive afterwards were quickly shut down by anyone in the vicinity.

GL and Flash: *injured badly after a fight*

Marvel: “I’ll drive!”

GL: “NO. No. No… we’re good pal.”

Marvel: But all of you are basically crippled and I’m the only one who’s uninjured.

Flash: “It’s fine. Hal can drive.”

GL: “Yeah, I can. I’m only with uninjured legs.”

Marvel: “Are you sure?”

GL: “Yeah, yeah, man we’re sure.”

Marvel: “Oh… Okay…” *moves to go to the passenger seat*

Flash: “I call shotgun!” *rushes over, aggravating his injuries in the process, but would rather have that happen instead of Marvel being anywhere near a steering wheel again*

Marvel: *little frown before getting in the backseat*

GL and Flash: *simultaneously breathe a sigh of relief*

See, despite what people might think, Billy actually noticed that people were uncomfortable whenever he drove, so he decided to go to Tawny for help. After all, the dapper gentleman tiger has driven before. Or at least Billy thinks so.

Tawny: *holding a little clipboard and a pen, wearing reading glasses* “Alright, Billy. Today we’re gonna teach you how to drive.”

Billy: “Yay!”

Tawny: “The enthusiasm is much appreciated. Now…”

And with that, Tawny taught Billy how to drive. After about an hour or two Billy was driving like a proper gentleman. When he thought he was good enough, he went to Batman to see if he could be allowed to drive again. Batman allowed it on the condition that Batman and he would have a mock driver’s test.

Marvel: “Alright!” *buckles his seatbelt and puts his hand on the wheel*

Batman: *gets in beside him and is already having PTSD flashbacks from the time in Gotham*

Marvel: *checks the rearview mirror and starts to pull out of the parking space*

Batman: *gripping the seats for dear life because he does not trust this man to drive safely*

Marvel: *starts driving*

Batman: “Slow. Down.”

Marvel: “What? But I’m going the speed limit?”

Batman: “Still slow down.” *still getting vigorous PTSD flashbacks and is trying to tell himself that he’s driven worse than Marvel has in the Batmobile, but it’s not working*

The drivers test was a little difficult with Batman, fearing for his life every single time Marvel even breathed in that car. Thankfully, Billy passed. Though he doesn’t know if that was due to the fact he actually passed or if Batman just wanted to get out of the car as soon as possible.

They later got Nightwing to later do it and the man gave Billy a stellar pass and driving privileges back.

[st4rg8te]

Twisted Affections (GL) (P. 1)

Yandere! Emperor's Mistress X Empress! Reader

✦✧✦✧

The lessons that had been instilled in you since birth resurfaced in your mind: ‘The Mother of the Nation should be dignified, elegant, and composed. She should never show any sign of weakness in front of her subjects.’ 

But you couldn’t help but break in her embrace.

✦✧✦✧

P. 2: x

[tw: adultery, s*xism, slight description of blood/injury]

✦✧✦✧

Your marriage with your husband—the Emperor, was a cold and loveless one, devoid of any warmth or affection. 

The two of you were betrothed to each other at a young age for the sake of politics. You were the daughter of an influential duke, while he was the heir to the throne. To the gaze of others, it had seemed like the perfect match. 

You had once thought the same. Hoping that the differences between the two of you would find a resolution in the arrangement, but that wish gradually withered away, unfulfilled. 

What could you do but silently endure the circumstances you were placed in? Until now, you had always maintained the perfect facade expected of an Empress.

As the years passed, the weight of responsibility overshadowed the absence of love in your marriage, settling deep within you as resigned acceptance.

But deep down, a small, naive part of you still wished for a happy ending with your prince charming, like in all those fairy tales your mother had once read to you before she died.

Your parents’ marriage had also been an arranged one, but as a little girl, you remembered the way your father would look at your mother as if she had hung all the stars in the sky. Perhaps one day, your husband would look at you in the same way?

It was simply too bad that this small hope of yours had been mercilessly crushed the moment your husband brought her home.

The sight of them together made your stomach twist into knots, and your words were caught in your throat. You felt your hands tremble as you clutched the silky fabric of your gown, trying to maintain a steady composure.

She was beautiful, with flowing blond locks and bright blue eyes that sparkled in the sunlight filtering through her delicate skin.  Although dressed in a simple gown that marked her status as a commoner, she exuded the grace and elegance of a noble princess.

A faint smile played on her lips as she laughed lightly with your husband, and he returned her smile with an equally warm one.

Why had he never smiled at you like that before?

“Her Majesty has arrived!” announced the servant behind you, and only then, did the lovers part.

Your eyes met bright baby blue ones. Her face lit up with excitement and delight as she took several steps toward you before stopping abruptly, realizing she was in front of the Emperor's wife.

Her eyes widened, and she immediately fell into a curtsy. Her dress rustled softly as her head dipped lower, revealing the graceful lines of her neck and arms.

The action made your lips twitch.

"G-greetings, Your Majesty! I've been looking forward to meeting you." Her voice held a slight tremor as she spoke.

She seemed younger than you, an edge of innocence that stirred people's protectiveness under her words—it served as another bitter reminder that the man you married did not belong to you.

You ignored her gaze boring into you; instead, turning your eyes back to your husband.

Your tone was icy, "What is this?"

"Lucia is going to live at the palace." He replied smoothly.

A hazy sense of familiarity washed over you once you heard her name come out of his mouth, but that was quickly forgotten with his next words:

"I intend to make her my concubine."

"What?" Your breath hitched sharply. "Why was I not informed of this sooner?"

He furrowed his brows in disapproval, "I do not need to explain my decisions to you. Do not get ahead of yourself."

"Have you not thought about what others would think—"

"Is that all you worry about?”

“Excuse me?”

“You have failed in your duty as my wife, for four years, you have not bore me a single child. It was about time someone else took care of it."

The harshness of his words cut through you like a blade, leaving you momentarily speechless. He continued, unperturbed by your silence, "My decision is final. I expect you, as the Empress, to give her suitable accommodations and see that she gets properly educated and trained."

You suddenly felt the urge to laugh, a humorless scoff ripping from your mouth as a cold fury burned within you. Shaky fingers curled tightly against your palm until it drew blood.

Your voice was hollow.

"I have important matters to attend to. Enjoy your stay, Lady Lucia."

Without waiting for an answer, you turned on your heel and strode out the grand corridors. The entourage of servants silently trailing behind you.

The sound of thundering steps echoed throughout the halls, but you had never felt as lonely as you did in that moment.

✦✧✦✧

Soon, word had spread quickly of Lucia's arrival as the Emperor's new concubine.

Even your family had heard the news. You were quickly met with a wrathful letter from the Duke, shaming you for losing to another woman—a commoner, no less.

For days, you had remained alone in your chambers. Rereading the scathing remarks written on the crumpled letter over and over again. Your father’s scorn a heavy burden on your already weary shoulders.

But what could you do? The Emperor's actions were beyond your control. It wasn't unheard of for a monarch to take lovers, and in some ways, even expected.

And the task of ignoring the jeers and taunts behind your back was becoming increasingly harder. In order to distract yourself, you began to drown yourself in the your duties.

"—They say Her Majesty is infertile. If that's true then here's no doubt about it; she'll be replaced by that new girl soon."

"—She's growing older each day, but there is still no sign of a child being conceived. Of course His Majesty would become tired of her."

"Poor thing."

Humiliation coiled in your gut like a snake. Behind you, your personal maid, Mary, spoke up, her voice filled with indignation on your behalf.

"Your Majesty, I'll go teach them a lesson—"

"No need," You replied, with a composed exterior, you continued walking. "Let's go."

As your husband had requested, you provided Lucia with everything he had asked for: servants, new gowns, jewelry, and suitable living quarters (which you ensured were as far away as possible from your residence). The lavish gifts and living space were more than generous, a testament to your patience.

You had also ensured that her presence would be kept minimally invasive to your daily life. Hopefully, the only times you would encounter her were on formal occasions, and nothing else.

At least that was what you had wished for, but it seemed that fate had a cruel way of playing tricks on mortals.

From the corner of your eye, a hint of blonde hair caught your attention. You halted in your steps as Lucia's face came into view, accompanied by a small group of her attendants.

‘Why was she here?’

The sight was enough to put you on edge; the last person you wanted to see right now was your husband's mistress.

She wore a delighted expression on her face as the group made their way toward you, "Your Majesty! I've been looking for you.”

Before you could respond, Mary stepped forward and quickly curtsied before the blonde woman, a hint of unfriendliness in her tone:

"Lady Lucia, how can we help you?"

An indiscernible emotion flashed across Lucia's eyes before she smiled again.

"I wanted to thank Her Majesty for all the help she has given me, and was going to invite her for tea."

Was she testing your patience on purpose? You couldn't believe your ears.

"Her Majesty has important business to attend to. Perhaps we could arrange another time." Mary suggested firmly. 

But the blonde woman ignored Mary’s words, and turned her expectant gaze towards you instead. You remained composed, offering Lucia a polite smile that did not quite reach your eyes.

"I appreciate the kind gesture, Lady Lucia. But perhaps another time.”

Lucia's smile faltered, and she slowly nodded her head, "I see... I'm sorry if I'm bothering you,"

You made a mental note to instruct the guards later not to let her wander around freely anymore. Seeing her every day would likely ruin your mood even more.

"—But,"

Shocked gasps rose from the attendants around you.

“My lady!”

Lucia paused, then her delicate fingers lifted the hem of her gown to reveal the crimson-stained slippers underneath. The blood had seeped through, staining her pristine white stockings a dark, ominous shade of red.

Your eyes widened in shock. Unaccustomed to the sight of blood, the gory display was enough to send shudders down your spine.

"Lady Lucia... What is the meaning of this?" You demanded, your voice trembling slightly as an unsettling feeling began to settle in the pit of your stomach.

Lucia's eyes were wide, and her lips curved up into a serene smile, "It wouldn't hurt Her Majesty to join us this once."

Her voice rang out, sickeningly sweet:

"I only wish to repay you. It would be a shame for His Majesty to hear about his beloved concubine getting injured in the Empress' own quarters. Wouldn't you agree, Your Majesty?"

✦✧✦✧

[aquariusmiller]

Sell-out

Pairing: QZ!Joel x f!reader

Summary: After a smuggler Joel and Tess were working with didn’t pay for his end of the deal, Joel captures his girlfriend, you. Tired of your boyfriend’s scheming ways, you decide to use the situation to your advantage.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, captivity, mentions of m!oc, cheating, darkish!Joel, dubcon (power imbalance, eventual consent), oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, creampie, dirty talk, slight dom/sub dynamics

A/N: Happy New Year! Decided to do something different for this one-shot and I'm excited to put it out there because I personally love reading these types of stories and I've been writing this for a while. I appreciate any feedback and enjoy these messy characters! :)

masterlist

The first thing you feel waking up is sharp pain coming from the back of your head. You move your arm to inspect it, but the weight of chains stops you, clanging against the hard floor. You quickly open your eyes to see where you are.

The room you’re in is wide, brick walls of it covered with graffiti, holding a network of pipes. You... You know this place. You’ve seen it from outside of the abandoned warehouse near the QZ, waiting for your boyfriend Lucien to finish up meeting with his smuggling crew. You always hated the types of guys coming here and the way he’d try to fit in with them, mimicking them without noticing. Most of the time, though, you’d bear with it because his line of work brought in the resources. To him and to you. This has to be the shadiest place in a wide perimeter, and it smells like it; of sweat, dried blood and rusted metal.

You raise your arms slightly and turn to look at them. There’s a pull of the heavy metal again. You see chains tied around your wrists, locked around a metal pipe. You don’t remember any of this happening, much less getting here. Your mind runs a mile an hour, trying to find an answer to the burning question – why the hell are you here tied up?

Heavy and intent footsteps grow louder until you see a big wooden door open. Your eyes widen as you see who comes out, his bearded face and stern expression unmistakable. He leans on a small metal table, staring you down. Joel fucking Miller.

Of course you know who Joel Miller is. Along with Tess, he’s one of the most notorious smugglers in the Boston QZ, feared by even the toughest of brutes. Tess is the brains, Joel is the muscle. They worked with Lucien on his most recent deal and... Oh, shit. You know why you’re here.

His expression is nonchalant, except for a subtle scowl. “Finally. You’re awake.”

You look him straight in the eye, trying not to show the fear bubbling in your stomach. You curse yourself as a tremble in your voice betrays it. “Why am I here?”

He grins darkly at the tremble in your voice, satisfied with his plan to intimidate you. “You know why you’re here.”

Of course you do. This isn’t the first time Lucien’s sleazy tactics backfired on him, yet he always thought he knew better than you. Didn’t want to listen to your advice and did as he pleased. Now you’re the one captured for it.

You decide in a split second you’ll pretend you have no idea. “No, I don’t.”

“Liar.” He says menacingly.

“What do you want?” You get annoyed and struggle against the chains.

“No use strugglin’. You’ll just hurt yourself. And I want my share.” He walks around as he speaks, heavy boots stomping on the concrete floor. You have to resist the urge to flinch at every one of his steps. “Thought you were so smart, double-crossing me and Tess.”

You glare at him, determined not to let him sense your fear. “Me? I’m not a smuggler.”

He smirks. “Oh, right. Forgot you’re Lucien’s arm candy.”

You know what he’s doing. Trying to coax an answer out of you by implying your only use is standing still and looking pretty. You won’t fall for it. You tilt your head. “Forgot you’re Tess’s muscle.”

You see a flicker of annoyance pass him at the quip before he composes himself. “The muscle could snap you in half.”

You keep glaring up at him. “Good thing. Nothing else going for you.”

He comes closer and kneels in front of you, his shadow looming over your frame. “You’re makin’ this a whole lot harder on yourself.”

You keep eye contact as he comes closer to you, his breath hitting your face, your breath speeding up from adrenaline and... His proximity. He’s so close you can smell his musk mixed with gun powder. God, not him. Not right now. You swallow.

He smirks. “What? Cat ate your tongue?”

You struggle to think as your skin warms up slightly, making part of you not want to leave. Looking away from him towards the floor, you shake out of it. The chains are tied to the pipe with a lock. If you’re lucky and he hasn’t thought this through, he could be keeping the keys to the lock somewhere on him. Joel wouldn’t, but it’s worth a try. You could also convince him to let you go. You’ve talked your way out of worse, and Joel is a pragmatic man. If you figure out what he wants, you stand a chance.

After a few seconds of running through this in your head, you have a plan of action. “I can give you your share.”

He leans a bit away to check your facial expression, determine if you’re deceptive. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah. It was a stupid idea, and I told him that. You should be made up for your struggle.” You try to keep your expression flat, playing up the “you deserve compensation” card.

He hums, smiling slyly. “You’re good. Can’t tell if you’re lyin’.”

“Well, I’m telling the truth.” You huff, genuinely annoyed this time at the predicament you’re in because of your boyfriend. “So how about we cut a deal and you get me out of these?” You raise your arms as much as the chains tying them on your back will allow.

He raises his eyebrow. “You’re takin’ this way better than I thought.”

You roll your eyes. “Not used to people coming in to save me.”

He shrugs and nods. “See...” He gets up slowly from his crouching position, walking around again. “I could cut you a deal.” He stops and looks you over, his eyes scanning your body slowly, like a predator deciding whether to play with its prey or finish the hunt. “Ain’t sure you’re gonna like it, though.”

Relief, intrigue and a bit of fear are swirling in your chest. Your voice cracks but you compose it quickly. “Go ahead. Shoot.”

He comes closer to you and crouches again, stroking your cheek with no emotion in his eyes, searching yours for any signs of discomfort. Chills prickle your skin and you’re not sure if you want to bite your lip to hold back your reactions or to spur him on. You refrain from it.

You should move to stop him. But it’s as if his gaze is keeping you in place, looking into your very soul.

“This is about sendin’ a message.” He strokes your cheek with his knuckles, the roughness of his calloused hand pleasant against your soft skin. “So you can tell me where you keep everythin’ you own, or...” He bites his lip, his eyes closing slightly with lust. “We can do somethin’ else.”

You’re breathing heavily, you heart beating quickly in your chest, leaning against the wall to get as much distance as you can from him in a desperate attempt to think clearly.

All of Lucien and your resources or... Whatever Joel’s up to? You don’t like this. You’re cornered. As much as you’re intrigued by the latter, you have a sinking feeling in your gut you’ll be forced to do it anyway. You frown in resignation.

You turn back to Joel, your tongue on your teeth in anger. “What else?” You spit out.

He smirks, aware of his position, taking his hand off your cheek. “You’re a smart girl. ’M sure you’ll figure it out.”

Thinking of your next move, you look at him frustrated. You lunge and bite the front of his shirt, keeping him in place as you try to will your chained hands to move to his jean pockets and look for the key.

He scoffs in frustration and shakes you off, pinning your shoulders against the wall. “Goddamnit-“

You slam against the wall, scowling at him.

He keeps you pinned and scoffs. “Oh, c’mon.” He smiles slyly, running his finger down the pulse point on your neck. “Afraid you’ll like it?” He leans in and whispers in your ear, his lips lightly grazing the shell of it. “You already do.”

You hate him with a fiery passion. You hate the invisible pull between you two and the way your breath is quickening.

He keeps whispering. “Smart girl. Sharp as a whip. Bet he doesn’t know how to handle ya.” He runs his hands down your sides, stoking the fire lit in you.

Your eyes shut slightly on their own accord, the sensation in your core pleasant. He’s flattering you, using your vanity against you as if he’s reading into your mind.

“I could make good use of you.” He whispers, his breath hitting your ear. “In a lotta ways.” His words are seductive, but you sense a deeper meaning. He sees tangible value in your calculating mind and survival instincts.

You should resist him. Use any tactic you can think of and try to run. But you’re curious about what he could do to you. You like the thought, and your body’s betraying you too, heat pooling low.

You’re also curious about the vision of Joel treating you like an equal. Tess is his partner in crime and you’re not sure how you’d fit in the picture. Yet, desperation for recognition Lucien never gave you lets you think wishfully for a fleeting moment. Does thinking like this make you a traitor? Weak willed? A sell-out? What devastates you is you’re not sure Lucien would care for this more than losing his supplies.

There’d likely be hell to pay either way. Hell with Joel seems like the lesser one.

So you entertain Joel. You bite your lip and turn to him slightly as you whisper. “Bet you could.”

He slowly pulls away from your ear and smiles slyly. “You’re comin’ around.”

You return his sly smile with your own. “Are you gonna make good on your promise?”

He leans in, his lips inches from yours, an invitation for you to close the distance. “You bet.”

You look down at his lips, corners of your mouth crooked into a smug smile. Temptation rises in you, pulling you in like a moth to a flame. And a flame will it be when Lucien finds out.

You lean in and kiss him. He kisses you back searingly, full of pent up aggression and desire, biting your lip softly. You moan at the slight sting, both getting lost in this desperate and carnal moment, mouth to mouth, no more space for thinking. His tongue finds your lower lip, asking for access. You grant it instantly, opening your mouth to let him explore it. You catch his tongue with yours and they glide against each other in a slow dance.

Moaning, you pull away. He grunts slightly at the loss of your lips on his. There’s a certain question in the way you look at him now that he can’t answer; how far is this going? He’s swept away in the tide of his arousal and letting it guide him.

He gets up and puts his hand on your chin, lifting it and tapping it as he speaks commandingly. “On your knees.”

You blink a few times in surprise and swallow your pride before you get up on your knees, tugging at the cold chains as you shift from your sitting position. Your core is fluttering even as you’re feeling like uncertainty is pressing down on your chest.

He smirks at your current position and tilts your head up, nudging you softly with his words. “Open wide. C’mon.”

You lick your lips as you look up at him with an expression juxtaposing what you’re feeling. Ready. In too deep, you’re seeing this through, letting him take you through the unknown. You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out.

“Eager for me, huh?” He strokes your chin tenderly, like you’re something to be handled carefully. “Good girl.”

You smile smugly with your eyes, keeping your mouth open, the last shreds of your restraint keeping you from giving fully into him.

The sound of him unbuckling his belt echoes through the warehouse interior. He slides it off, pulling down his jeans. You get a good look at the bulge straining against his boxers. God, he seems big. A bit of worry of you’ll fit him in your mouth comes over you.

He just grins at your hesitant frown and reaches for the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down. His length is bobbing on his abdomen, red and angry, already leaking precum. You instinctively tilt your head and bite your lip at the sight. His bulge didn’t fool you about his size, and of course it’s as demanding and manly as the rest of him.

He looks at you sternly. “Go on. I ain’t got all day.”

He’s taunting your doubts, and you might agree with the sentiment. You want to be so full of him you can’t think. You lick up the drops leaking from his slit, looking up at him with wide, pliant eyes.

He strokes the back of your head, sucking in a breath. “There we go.” He grips your hair and pulls you in the direction of his cock. You wrap your mouth around his tip, swirling your tongue, before you push in deeper.

He grunts. He grips your hair, his eyes shutting slightly at the sensation of your warm mouth. “Just like that, baby. So good.” He pats your cheek with his other hand.

You bob your head, setting up a steady pace. You inhale his musk as you take him in deeper each time.

He’s a mess of grunts and low moans. He grips your hair with both hands and starts thrusting into you with abandon. He hits the back of your throat and even as you gag, you close your eyes and moan, the vibration pleasant on his cock. He lit up a wildfire inside you. At this point, you’re helpless to stop it.

Even in his haze, he’s making sure to hold your head securely to keep you from falling backwards. He lets out a groan as he bucks into you, struggling to speak. “Takin’ me so well. You like chokin’ on it?”

You moan in approval. You’re getting off on being tied up and used like this, the ache in your core becoming almost unbearable. So intent on doing whatever he wants, you don’t care if it gets eased.

“’M not sure how long I can last.” He pulls out of your mouth slowly, the saliva stream connecting your mouth with his cock as he does. You open your eyes, looking up at him half-lidded, close to being completely spent. He strokes your cheek, scared he’s hurt you. “You okay?” His voice is tinged with warmth you didn’t expect.

You nod as you look into his hazel eyes, still devoid of emotion but attentive in their own way, glimpses of the man he must have been before the world hardened him.

“Where d’you want me?” He keeps stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“I want you inside me.” There’s almost a desperation in the way you look up at him, not sure if it’s for him to slide into you or to keep him giving these small crumbs of attention.

He nods as his gaze skims over your body slowly. As if he just remembered something, he stops in consideration. He orders, slight irritation at this thought ruining his fun in his voice. “Turn around.”

You narrow your eyes questioningly and hesitantly turn around to face the wall. Gripping your arm, he unties the chains around your wrists. Relief and confusion come over you. Is he going to...?

He is. You recognize the sound of keys clinking behind you before he turns the key in the lock keeping the chains to the pipe. The chains fall to the floor with a loud clang. You finally move your arms, sore and chafed by them, rubbing the marks.

Why would he let you go before you get to the good part? Wait... Guess there are invisible lines Joel won’t cross. As much as he liked the power he had over you, he wants you to have a choice in this. To know you’re doing this on your own accord, not to escape, not fearing for your life. This is just his test of that. He stands behind you for a few moments, gauging your reaction, watching whether you’re preparing to flee.

As you stand with your arms free, all your instincts tell you to run. But where to? Back in the arms of the boyfriend who makes you fear his betrayal every single day? It’s only a matter of time before his backstabbing tendencies are turned on you, you think.

To be fair, Joel is not the most reliable man to turn to next, but you decide to explore what has transpired between you further.

You turn around and look at him, his bulge still straining against his pulled up jeans, tilting your head and smiling knowingly. “Go on. I ain’t got all day.”

“Good. Thought you’d try to run.” He grins and nods, and you can see relief clearly painted on his face. “Woulda been a shame.” His voice takes on a lower and more confident tone.

He grabs your arms and moves you to the patch of brick beside the pipe you were locked to, pinning you to it. Your faces are close together and now you’re both smiling like two teenagers sneaking off to do something forbidden. He slides his tongue into your mouth again as you open it eagerly. You kiss briefly before his fingers slip past the waistband of your jeans inside your panties. He hums. “Already wet for me, aren’t you?”

You nod as you exhale in pleasure. “So wet.”

He parts your folds with his finger, not pushing in, just teasing. “Let’s see how wet you can get...”

Your core is throbbing and his touch keeps making it worse. Leaning your head back against the wall, you sigh. “Oh God...”

He smiles slyly as his fingers find your clit, rubbing teasingly. “Lucky bastard, Lucien... Gonna fuck you so hard you forget all about him.”

You look at Joel in surprise at mentioning him, too worked up to care at this point, perhaps even tempered by the anger and resentment you harbor for Lucien. Too late to turn back anyway, you think you like the way this is sticking it to him. A subtle sly smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

He takes his hand out of your jeans and begins undoing the button and zipper on them. As he does, your chest is rapidly rising and falling and you feel the heat spreading through your body, consuming you. You clutch onto his belt, undoing it once more along with his jeans and boxers. He hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down.

He taps the head of his cock to your clit, your arousal mixing. You move your hips instinctively for him to push in, but he makes sure to torment you for a moment longer, tapping it against you again.

“Joel...” You whine.

“You want it? I wanna hear you.” He pushes in just the head of his cock, closing his eyes in pleasure.

“Yes! Yes, I want it so badly. Please...” Before you’re even done begging, Joel can’t take it anymore and pushes all the way in. In one rough stroke, he’s fully inside you. Your breath’s almost knocked out and a slight sting from his size quickly turns into pleasure.

He stills for a moment, letting you adjust. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

He slides out of you a bit before he slams back in. He sets a ruthless pace, each thrust pushing your hips to the wall and hitting deep inside of you. You lean against the cold brick, your lips parted and your eyes half-lidded, moaning. It’s almost animalistic, the way you’re both losing your bearings in this dirty warehouse.

“Atta girl. Take all of me.” He picks up speed as he presses closer to you, taking your nipple between his fingers through your shirt and pinching it, his voice husky and low. “Who’s fucking you harder than he ever did?”

“You, Joel.” The words come out of you without even thinking about them.

He grins proudly. “Damn right.” His hand reaches for your thigh, raising it slightly so it’s wrapped around his waist. The angle he’s thrusting at changes and you feel him hitting that delicious spot inside you that makes your vision blur. Now you’re a mess of gasps and moans.

He pounds into you relentlessly. “’M close. Gonna fill you up full of me.”

Too deep into the blissed out haze, you moan and nod, only thinking about how good it will feel. And it does. He buries his face in your shoulder as he fills you, hot pulses of his thick release pumped deep inside you. His cock is throbbing inside you as he empties himself. The sensations send you over the edge, and you lean your head back and moan as waves of pleasure crash over you.

He stays like that for a while as you both catch your breath. Sated and wrapped up around him, you close your eyes, coming down from the high. The tension from your initial meeting has dissolved, leaving you both light and boneless. You wrap your fingers in his hair, stroking it as he tries to gather his bearings.

There is not much to say after what’s already said and done, besides the question making your chest tighten as you both put your clothes back on. Is Joel going to brag to Lucien about this, more so – was this kind of payback his plan all along?

Something in your stomach twists at the thought that you were a pawn Joel successfully used in his game, but you don’t regret the way this has forced you out of the convenience of being by Lucien’s side.

As you zip up your jeans, your gaze falls back on Joel’s questioning expression. He can tell you’re lost in thought.

“Will you tell Lucien about this?” You say it with more bite than you intended, angry at the thought of being used.

He considers your question then shakes his head. “Won’t if you don’t want me to.” He grins. “Reckon it’s not my style anyway.”

Exhaling in relief and amusement, you nod. “Alright.” Your legs are sore as you head for the steel doors of the warehouse.

He raises his eyebrow at your abrupt exit and calls out. “We gonna see each other again?” He wants to, you can tell by his tone.

You turn around on your way out and contemplate whether you want to see him again. You connected physically but you feel like connecting emotionally with Joel would be an endless chase of something never to be caught. You’re so drawn to him. You don’t want to go. But you tilt your head as you answer bluntly with a smile. “No.”

He shrugs indifferently as the steel sliding door grinds while you open it. “Probably for the best.”

[tiramiiswu]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ indomitable

⋆⭒˚. invincible x green lantern!reader ⭒˚.⋆

✦ masterlist || next ✦ imagine: local delinquent girl acts as the one and only green lantern of earth and who just so happens to have a distinct disdain for a certain half-viltrumite she has the displeasure of meeting ✦ pairings: mark grayson x reader ✦ warnings: n/a ✦ a/n: reader is a sort of magical girl inspired green lantern in the sense that i keep picturing her hero costume to be reminiscent of the pretty guardian sailor moon sailor senshi outfits, specifically sailor jupiter’s since she’s already green. her personality is bit of a mix of makoto kino from pgsm and kyoko sakura from puella magi madoka magica when it comes to inspiration because i love my bastard daughter, but i think it definitely evolved in a way that doesnt really align with that as well anymore ✦ originally this was meant to be longer but im not super used to the like? headcanons bulleted list style of formatting this imagine is in and i tend to like ramble and get off my initial thought so hopefully this cut version is readable enough, i might make multiple parts to this just to get some of my other headcanons out because i did really like some of the extra ones i just didn’t think they fit that well with the main ones (i also just want to write about gl!reader and her beloved punching bag ^^;; )

edit: I FORGOT THE OTHER HALF OF MY DRAFT FUCK.

✦ mark grayson was a fucking loser

✦ that was something you were sure of

✦ he’s some stupid dweeb with a dorky interest like seance dog who’s not even worth looking at over the gum stuck to your shoe

✦ you’ve known him since you were kids, when he was an annoying little boy with a gap in his teeth

✦ your parents trying to set up playdates with him and his family after moving into the neighborhood some time before you developed your powers

✦ before everything went to shit

✦ at twelve you were sought out by the green lantern’s ring, unsure as to why it chose you or how you were considered worthy

✦ maybe it was due to your childish belief that evil could be thwarted by the power of love and justice, like the pretty guardians and magical girls in the boxsets your mother let you read with her and the old vhs tapes you watched sitting in her lap growing up

✦ maybe it was your stubborn resolve when it came to protecting your friends on the schoolyard from snotty little boys who tried to pick on them (you were sent to the principal’s office due to your quick response to slug your tiny little fists at some stupid brat’s mouth enough to be on a first name basis with them, much to your father’s dismay)

✦ whatever it was, you were over the moon with your newfound abilities

✦ through sheer willpower you were able to construct anything your imagination thought of, you could fly, and (most importantly to your 13 year old self) your ring could create any hero costume design to anything your heart desired, complete with a dazzling transformation sequence to boot

✦ at first it was everything you ever wanted, days at school spent wanting to do nothing but go out and fight the forces of evil with your totally awesome magical powers (sort of)

✦ for a while you even wondered when you’d get your own team (all magical girls had a team comprised of their friends to fight off evil, so obviously you would get one eventually, right?)

✦ you spent a lot of time in class doodling what you thought your team would be like, which of your friends were bound to be chosen next and join your side (in the back of your notebook you even had some little doodles of you and some masked phantom thief type character that you could no longer pin who your kid self was thinking of at the time when you stumbled upon your old notebook)

✦ but of course, life wasn’t that simple

✦ you never got that team of magical girls, or other lanterns to come to your aid and help you fight off evil

✦ you didn’t have a moment where a kind older teammate you picked up along the way reassured you and comforted you when your body ached from being thrown around like a rag doll by some super powered freak trying to destroy a city block

✦ no one else was there to help you when your ring faltered and your constructs fell apart because you were just a little girl fighting for love and justice against real monsters, bad guys who wanted to break your bones or worse, ones who couldn’t be magically defeated with a magic tiara or a special transformation power-up

✦ it was you who had to do all of that

✦ it was you who had to choke back tears and lick your wounds just to push all of that fear down into the pits of your stomach and pull yourself back onto your feet to hit the bastard who broke your rib ten times as hard

✦ your constructs were tougher, brighter even, they no longer shattered after one heavy hit against the body of a big bulky target

✦ but it wasn’t your courage making them stronger—

✦ it was the unwavering resolve that you were going to punch and claw your way out of each hell you got into and survive, even if you had to die trying

✦ at some point you quit sticking your neck out for other people

✦ you stop searching for fights to start and to prevent crime before it escalates with regular patrols of the city

✦ you only ever came to the aid of civilians when danger was making itself present in big conflics, it gives you more time to be a regular girl and live your life

✦ by eight grade you had had to switch schools for fighting other students

✦ mark noticed that before your expulsion you seemed to have quit picking fights to protect your friends (friends who gradually started to drift away from you late seventh grade) and now you seemed to just be starting fights out of nowhere

✦ you needed to let off steam from your hero work, taking it out on some annoying boy in class was the closest thing you had to a goon or grunt

✦ he didn’t see you again until late into high school

✦ or, really he didn’t see you until he ran into eve after getting his powers

✦ because you saw him immediately after transferring back to the same school district and getting enrolled in the same high school as him

✦ somehow the world couldn’t be smaller

✦ you saw him the first day of senior year

✦ how could you forget, you punched him in the jaw at your parents’ funeral nearly four years ago

✦ you basically ignored him as much as you could

✦ i mean really he’s the same as he was as all those years ago as a stupid kid— dorky and innocent

✦ it was almost insulting the way he didn’t recognize you at first, but to be fair you gave him the cold shoulder and pushed past him in the halls whenever you could

✦ he often saw you smoking under the bleachers during breaks

✦ you still got into fights sometimes, he’s seen you throw a mean right hook whenever one of the other students were bothering you, so he generally he keeps his distance (still, he found himself looking at you over his shoulder every time he did notice you, something about the bad girl delinquent vibe gave you an allure of some kind)

✦ so now imagine being you, taking a night off for once from beating crooks bloody and waiting for civilians to get into trouble before swooping in to save them (again), loitering around Burger Mart and using your lantern ring to make a lighter to light a cigarette (you left your lighter at home— a nice vivienne westwood that belonged to your mom)

✦ you’re minding your own business when you see a familiar face come out from the back of the restaurant

✦ your brows scrunch up identifying the boy in uniform as your least favorite regular human on the planet as he’s hauling two trash bags over to the dumpster

✦ you groaned at the sight of him and rolled your eyes, going back to lighting your cigarette when you see him fidget with the bags for a moment before fucking chucking one of them into the fucking stratosphere

✦ you just sort of stare at him from where you were sat with wide, furious eyes

✦ because no way this loser gets powers out of fucking nowhere

✦ no fucking way you have been busting your ass for years getting stronger, learning how to suppress your fear and push yourself to be stronger, faster, more durable, everything to survive when you’re doing your rounds as Earth’s only green lantern

✦ and mark fucking grayson gets to throw massive heaps of trash into fucking space like it was nothing

✦ if there was a God somewhere, you were sure he’s laughing right at you

✦ you’re there when mark— sorry, when invincible makes his debut as a hero, during the initial flaxan invasion,

✦ you’re exceptionally more irritated than usual

✦ the others chalked it up to your usual grouchiness, but atom eve (your one and only friend) caught onto your ire rather quickly with just how aggressive you seemed to be that day

✦ when mark approached eve in the halls at school afterwards you didn’t do anything to hide your scowl, appearing behind her like a shadow

✦ it took him a second to notice you and he’s not all to proud to say your sudden arrival made him jump a little

✦ scared for a second that he was talking loud enough for someone to have heard him reveal his identity when he remembers you as one of the heroes who he fought beside during the flaxan invasion

✦ you’re annoyed when eve offers to lend an ear to mark, call it jealousy or just you being territorial of your only friend, but there was no way mark grayson gets one rocky start as a hero and immediately gets to be reassured by someone

✦ he gets his powers without needing to prove anything, he gets support from the get go by another hero like eve as soon as he doubts himself, it made you sick— HE makes you sick

✦ from then there on you just couldn’t shake this guy off you

✦ you ran into him more often at school, or at the store, hell you were getting put on the same assignments by cecil

✦ you’re sick of him

✦ sick of his stupid face and that dorky grin of his

✦ how he’s always checking in on you when you go down during a fight and how his voice sounded a bit softer when he spoke to you

✦ the way he makes your face heat up and made your stomach flip when he looked at you—

✦ oh…

✦ oh hell no.

✦ you needed to hit something and you needed to hit something hard (preferably mark)

✦ you were already pretty standoffish and kind of mean when you had to interact at school, but now?

✦ whenever you’re paired with him for missions half of it is spent barking at him and calling him stupid for not being careful enough

✦ he doesn’t even really know what gets you so heated sometimes but he’s getting better at dodging your punches when you start wailing on him post fight

✦ you hate how much effort you have to put just to keep up with him sometimes

✦ he makes you put in the work when he’s barely breaking a sweat

✦ you want to hit him with your hardest construct sometimes just to see him get skipped like a stone. he’s durable, he’ll live

✦ seeing you in action is something else

✦ your costume hasn’t really changed since you were younger (really the sailor scout uniform was just too good to switch up)

✦ but the duality of the cute bows on your leotard and the short pleated skirt compared to the sight of you slamming a heavy green mallet over some poor supervillain’s head always draws his attention to you

✦ you fight so effortlessly in mark’s eyes, you’re quick on your feet and there’s a unique power behind your punch that make him feel the earth beneath his feet shake when he sees you clock someone in the jaw

✦ you always looked so cool with your stoic, determined expression and he admires how ✦ you seem so put together, you barely stagger between attacks, it’s as if you’re just going through the motions

✦ watching you ring-sling is such a sight to see

✦ you’re so quick to adapt your light constructs he can’t imagine how fast you must be thinking for you to be able to switch as naturally as you do, almost like breathing

✦ he’s seen you combo your ring-sling constructs with your raw strength, hitting them with a green baseball bat before the same light construct stretched into a tether or a lasso to yank them back into your ring bearing fist— which by then had some brass knuckle or gauntlet wrapped around it to bust up their jaw

✦ you do surprisingly well at keeping up with him, you’re nowhere near as fast or durable as he is after he starts getting deeper and deeper into being invincible, but your willpower wasn’t something to laugh at

✦ he admired your courage and strength, even if he was at the end of some of those punches

✦ the two of you were such a strange pair

✦ both of you seemed oblivious to the way you looked at each other

✦ maybe it was the goggles on his costume but mark never seemed to realize that the scowl on your face wasn’t the same as your usual resting face (though he found the scrunch of your nose and the furrowing of your brows very cute)

✦ and you (despite your observational skills and general common sense) couldn’t tell that the sheepish puppy dog look on his face when he talked to you wasn’t just how his stupid face looked

✦ you also didn’t seem to realize that thinking about him as consistently as you did wasn’t something you’re supposed to do about someone you claimed to despise

✦ eve is at her wits end with you guys, especially since she was most often the one left to mediate between the two of you

✦ rex tried to do that once, but seeing as you were strongly aligned with eve and hold grudges longer than anyone else you still weren’t giving him any civilized response that didn’t involve chucking him into a lamppost ever since eve confided to you about him cheating

✦ also he used your spare lighter as ammunition once and he was still feeling the pain in his arm from when you broke his wrist after that

[avianyuh]

Jeon Wonwoo as a boyfriend...

Other SVT as bf's { S.Coups , Jeonghan , Minghao/The8 , Hoshi }

Like most, I'm sure Wonwoo appeals to you because upon introduction, you think he's the quiet, brooding type

But he'd show a different side of himself in a relationship with you

A goofball all the way

Any carat knows that he's a secret comedian

I think he'd always be trying to make you laugh

Had a bad day? He'll make you watch a funny video he saw

Texting him that you miss him?

You will be sent stupid pictures as his response

GAMING

He's not competitive though

He likes to play chill games with you just because he likes to spend his time doing one of his favorite things with you

And that makes him really happy!

Please encourage him and geek out with him over video games

I think he can be sensitive sometimes

But strikes me as the type to not verbalize when something is bothering him

So being with someone observant would do him good, get him to open up more

Especially in the beginning of the relationship

I think overtime, you won't have to try as hard to get him to share his feelings with you

He'll just naturally start to feel really comfortable around you

The g-gl-glasses

Ughhhh

I know you love them

You get to see him in his glasses basically everywhere

Barely takes them off to begin with

Even some promotions he keeps them on

Imagine late night gaming with him

The lights are all out and your sitting as close to each other as possible

And the reflection of the computer screen is in his glasses and he's all happy because he's really enjoying himself omg

You're just looking at him and thinking Damn that's my man...

As I've pointed out in my previous dating seventeen posts, you have to pass the vibe check and get approval from all the members if you want to be a permanent part of Wonwoo's life

Strikes me as the type to see you on the down-low for a few months

Would probably mention you to Mingyu since last I heard, they're roomies

You'd be introduced to Mingyu first

Then he'd probably mention that he met someone to the rest of the guys

Then he'd bring you around the dorm, or a dance practice, somewhere you can meet as many members as possible

That way Seungkwan can be his extroverted self and make you feel comfortable.

Like, imagine meeting another relatively quiet member like Jun or Woozi

"Nice to meet you😐🙂"

Please tell me you can see that happening cuz I can

Maybe even Minghao or Seungcheol would be sorta awkward

Like not in a bad way, but introverts need time to warm up to someone new (speaking from experience)

But once everyone has been acquainted and they like you, you will be family and it will shift from like to love

Because you treat Wonu right and you make him happy

Wonwoo being with you would make him more energetic and outgoing

He's a homebody

Normally I would say opposites attract, but in his case I definetly think being with another introvert would be ideal lol

Would recommend you a lot of books

And would want you to read his favorites so the two of you could discuss them

Same with video games

Remember I told you to let him geek out?

PLZ LET HIM BE A GEEK!!!!!!

I think Wonwoo would love to go on vacation every once in a while

I think he can drive abroad

But even just driving in Korea

Going on day trips

Just talking, singing to your favorite songs

Teasing him by playing some of SVT's music

Or just sitting in a comfortable silence

That's the best type of silence and it's very underrated imo

One thing about Wonwoo is how tall he is

6 feet I think? (182 cm for those not in the U.S.)

And he has very broad shoulders

Imagine watching a scary movie with him and hiding your face in his chest, and he wraps his arms around you

Lowkey protective

Just wants to keep you safe

Loves everything about you

The type to stare at you and just blurt out that he finds you beautiful

He's well read so he'd probably say something really poetic

Just makes you feel special

Shexy Shtuff:

Okay, we need to sit and have a conversation about how buff this man is...

Look at those pecs

Damn

He's ripped

He's not a gym bro, but he definitely likes going

Imagine him coming home and he's all sweaty and his muscles are all visible

He loves a good sweater or hoodie so I think seeing his physique is rare

The quiet ones are always great kissers...

This bitch is all dark and mysterious

A.K.A most likely a FREAK

Uses tongue when he kisses

Like, probably pulls you on top of him if you're on the couch or lays you down on the bed

Or pins you against the wall if he's frustrated or hasn't seen you in a while

If you ever got in an argument he's apologizing profusely and then making up for it in bed

Definitely a grunter

Not overly vocal

More concerned with your needs

Definitely a giver

I don't think he's that adventurous when it comes to location

Bed, shower, couch maybe

Most of the time, you'll be watching a movie or maybe sitting on his lap if you come in while he's playing games on his computer (or just doing something on his computer in general)

So there you are, sitting on his lap, not trying to do anything sexual, just asking what he's playing or doing

And at first everything's good but as you're readjusting yourself in his lap, you're shifting around and suddenly he's getting turned on

He'd start kissing your cheek, your neck, moving his hands up to waist

Eventually getting impatient and scooping you up and taking you to his bedroom

Shower sex after the gym

Or late at night after practice if he isn't too tired

I see him being a big pillow-talker

Get's really emotionally vulnerable with you after sex

And that's how you know he trusts you

And congratulations, his voice is already deep as is, but in the morning, omg he'd sound so hot right after he wakes up

Would love to just keep you in his arms and lay in bed for a while, especially if he had nothing to do that day

Okay, i think this is long enough now

In conclusion, I think he'd be a great boyfriend

~

{A/N: AHHH, omg I'm sorry I've been inactive the past two weeks, I got pneumonia. I'm still recovering but felt really bad that I hadn't posted. I've been trying to make up my missed schoolwork. I couldn't think of a fanfic to write so I decided to do a headcanon for seventeen to add to the series. Wonwoo was my first bias back in 2017 before I realized I'm a coups girl. But I'll be honest, sometimes I'm creeping on Wonwoo's fancams (sorry Cheol) Anyways, I love you guys so much whether you're a frequent reader/follower or this is your first time reading anything from me. I love you, have a great day/night, whenever you're reading this, mwahhhh❤️ I put in a continue reading because this one was so much longer than my previous bf headcanons, Wonwoo, a man of substance lol}

[unintentionalseductress]

I don't know how your "thirsty weekends" works, but all I'm thinking about now is #16- glory hole with sylus.

That's exactly how Thirsty Weekends works! You pick a prompt and a character and inbox me!

And I had so much fun writing this! Hope you kinky kittens like reading it!

Glory hole

--------

There was a week left for your wedding with Sylus and you decided to surprise your fiance with something you knew would please him immensely; a private glory hole, featuring you.

With the help of a friend, you'd gotten naked and slipped into a narrow box with holes on opposite sides, one for your pussy, another for your mouth, and two on the sides so that your tits could be groped. A sign had been posted over the side of the box saying 'use me'. You waited on your hands and knees in anticipation, growing wetter by the second knowing he'd be home any minute.

Your core tightens when you hear the click of the door, then your grin falters as you hear other people's voices, your heart leaping into your chest when you recognize them. A mix of men, all of Sylus's acquaintances; Rafayel, Xavier, and Zayne. Why were they here?

"Why is there a box in the middle of your living room? Did you get a pet?" Rafayel's voice fills the room and you panic, unsure what to do.

"It says 'use me' on the side of the box." Zayne's footsteps can be heard approaching the box and your eyes widen as you try to think what to do.

"Sylus you didn't plan something did you? Like some sort of final wild party before getting hitched?" You hear Xavier ask in disbelief. Your eyes are glued to the limited view from the holes in the side of the box and you recognize Sylus's expensive shoes as he approaches, then dips a hand in through the side, finding your breast and squeezing.

"It appears it's a final present before I say goodbye to my bachelorhood gentleman," Sylus says smoothly as he withdraws his hand and you feel your senses float out of your body, leaving you weak. What was going to happen now?

"Enjoy yourselves."

Before you can comprehend what's happening a cock is shoved into the hole near your mouth. It was a nice organ, but you hesitate, then hear the voices outside. "Nothing's happening Sylus!"

You weigh your options. You could end this right now and have everyone see you like this. But also...something about the anonymity appealed to you. You give a tentative lick to the cock before taking it into your mouth. The action causes the person to let out a groan and the group jeers. "Is the whore in the box good Rafayel?"

You let out a squeak of surprise as hands come in from both sides and roughly grab your boobs, squeezing and pulling at your nipples. Stuck and unable to turn in the narrow space, you're helpless to do anything except take it. You moan against the meat in your mouth as another hand enters the back hole, a finger tracing your folds before it pushes into your cunt, fingering you from behind.

The sudden assault on your body brought a powerful turn on that your weren't expecting. They had no idea who was in here and the thought of being used was filling your brain with a haze of sexual need. Rafayel suddenly withdraws and another cock, longer and thicker this time, enters the glory hole. You suck it without hesitation and the men whistle.

"Damn Zayne, the way your eyes rolled I thought she sucked the soul from your body!"

You moan and whine and whimper as they squeeze and abuse every inch of your body that they could reach through the holes then gasp as you hear Sylus ask, "Who wants the honor of fucking her first?"

You hear condom wrappers being ripped open and before you could think, a cock starts to penetrate you from behind, splitting you open around it's covered girth. You let out a needy groan and the men laugh.

"Sounds like she's having a good time!" You wished you could rub your clit as you were getting fucked but the box was too narrow for you to reach so you settle for having your nipples tweaked and pulled. Another cock enters the glory hole and you obediently take it into your mouth, bobbing your head and letting your pussy be abused to their liking. You can feel whoever is using you getting close to their climax, then feel their cock twitch and shoot it's load, caught by the condom before it's withdrawn from your slick depths.

You barely had time to recover when another cock pushes in, and you feel your senses heighten because you recognize this one; it's unmistakably Sylus, and his cock adjusts inside you to graze against your g spot with each stroke. Your voice now becomes a pathetic string of moans as he gets your sweet spot each time. In your sensitized state, you cum immediately, a loud keening sound ripping from your throat and echoing through the box as you climax. There's cheering for Sylus as he withdraws.

You take two more cocks after this, and service everyone for a few more rounds before all the men decide they've had their fill. With sighs of satisfaction, they leave, thanking Sylus for the evening's entertainment and wishing his good luck with his wedding.

You lay there, covered in sweat, your pussy sloppy from being used so many times, wondering if you could somehow escape out of the box now that everyone had left, then yelp in surprise as the panel on the side is lifted up, and Sylus smirks down at you. Your face turns red as he assesses you before slowly lifting you out of your confines, settling down on the sofa with you on his lap.

"Did you have fun sweetie?" he asks, chuckling as you hide your face in his neck.

"You knew it was me?"

"Of course."

"Why didn't you stop it then?"

"Did you not like it?"

"I...I did..."

"Then what's the problem?" Sylus presses a kiss to your head. "My sweet bride, do you think I was unaware of your fantasy to be used as a glory hole? I thought it would be best for you to get it out of your system before you officially become my wife. And you just made it so easy tonight."

He laughs heartily as you punch his arm, your face turning a brilliant shade of crimson before kissing you senseless.

---

I am horny and need an immediate gangbang from all of them now *hides face*

[zahri-melitor]

I’ve seen a lot of posts going around calling Tim sexist/misogynistic. To what extent is this true to him as a character or just poorly aged Dixon stuff from the 90s.

Look, generally most of those posts are bad-faith reads by people.

Tim was written during the 90s primarily by Chuck Dixon. He therefore exists as a character against a backdrop that often appears to include sexism and misogyny, because generally most material made during the 90s can look that way to modern eyes.

I think more valuable questions on this front include:

Which of Tim’s traits do you consider to be sexist?

Is that behaviour notable for that time period? Does it stand out in any way? How does it compare to other stories?

Do you see this behaviour replicated by multiple writers over multiple decades?

In what ways are these traits shown to be more or less sexist or misogynistic than the behaviour of other characters in those stories?

We have a lot of titles written by Chuck Dixon during the 90s. Do you consider the way Tim is written to be more sexist or misogynistic than say Dixon’s characterisation of Connor Hawke and Kyle Rayner? Bruce Wayne or Dick Grayson? The depiction of Dinah’s relationships in with men in Birds of Prey? Jack Drake or Dana Winters? Detectives Shotgun Smith or Harvey Bullock?

At the same time Tim’s comics are being published during the 90s:-

We have the GA/GL crossovers in Green Arrow 1987 with Connor and Kyle where they’re going out to bars together, being forcibly hit on by women, and Kyle is negging Connor to hook up with some of them.

Superboy 1994 shows both Knockout and Tana Moon as completely obsessed with Kon and positions both of them as ‘exotic older woman/predator’ towards him, including specifically placing Kay in a position where she is an illegal immigrant dependent on selling her body (in exotic dance) who comes from a culture of extreme violence and abuse, and Tana as a Native Hawaiian woman chasing after a child celebrity.

Impulse 1995 resurrects the character of Bonnie King to make her a single, ugly, chainsmoking pageant mother completely obsessed with her own previous ‘glory days’, who spent the life insurance money from her husband’s death on training Cissie and trying to live through her.

Dinah Lance is portrayed as a secret agent trading on her sexuality and the fact men find her hot to do a lot of work in Birds of Prey 1999, including being attracted to and hooking up with Slade Wilson and Ra’s al Ghul.

Wonder Woman 1987 has the Sangtee Emperor space arc, which is a misogynistic space empire with a Sweet Polly Oliver problem, to put it mildly, and which I can most generously describe as “Messner-Loebs trying to do commentary on sexism in society but missing the mark”.  

Let’s just say, I don’t think Tim’s behaviour stands out at all, and in many ways is far less sexist and more considered, thoughtful and kind than other stories during this time frame.

I think it’s largely a tedious discussion pursued by people who either are looking for some reason to dislike Tim or who feel a need to try and ensure their reading material conforms to their present views on what is socially acceptable, and haven’t yet experienced society’s views changing on them to make something that was previously common now considered dodgy or unacceptable.