#its really special. i recommend it. it hurts a lot

[charrfie]

Read Laika No Hoshi and sobbed my fucking eyes out

[arsen1cs4ng0]

i think.... my chip special interest is fully gone after a giant breakdown i had...

[jiminrings]

fail-safe

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 8k

glimpse: growing up, your brother's best friend always berated you for not having a passion in life outside of loving him from afar. when yoongi leaves everything he's ever known for everything he's ever wanted, trying to move on from him becomes your biggest aspiration.

alternatively, yoongi left when you needed him the most, and comes back home at a time when you love him the least.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

[ a Lot of angst, eventual fluff, brother's best friend AND single dad au, So Much Yearning, unrequited love (initial), jealousy, self-deprecation, a lot of talk abt passion in an empty n hurtful way that most impassioned youngest children feel (it's a specific feeling idk!!!), eventual redemption in the next parts ]

notes: finally got to writing a new series!!! i'm beyond excited for this + this whole new concept and flow i haven't touched on before <3 i hope u love fail-safe as much as i do :-)

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! | series masterlist

Yoongi buys atleast one scratch ticket a week.

The accessibility of buying one is top-notch considering that all he has to do is cross the street, shoot one look to the cashier, and he can either already go hunch in the corner of the road or in the comfort of his room. The moment his coin takes its first dig and he realizes that he’s won yet again, he’s satisfied enough not to buy another ticket.

He doesn’t want to risk losing the win he’s just gained, the odds of him throwing out money besting his chances in adding to his earnings. He thinks everyone’s a little greedy one way or another, but it’s the righteous part of him that thinks he’s different.

You do think that he is for all the right reasons, your vision only tunneling for him alone. He’s this fixed older figure in your life and you can’t figure out how to shrug him off — he’s this generous leech that sucks all of the rationality from your mind but returns it to you twofold, whether in the form of him saying something unintentionally endearing that it makes your chest hurt, or through him having to lightly smack the back of your head.

Yoongi’s your older brother’s best friend and there’s a novelty tag that comes with him, one that can’t be topped by any material possession to your name. He’s there for you, not in the exact way you want him to be, but nonetheless there. He’s special and unattainable at the same time, the finiteness of his love barely extending to you.

He’s there when you want him to burn the latest songs onto a CD you’ve spent all your allowance in, and he’s there when you get annoyed that he sneaked some of his own recommendations in there. You’re there when you later admit that his suggestions aren’t half-bad, and you also happen to be there when he grins at the praise.

He’s there when Namjoon won’t cough up the last slice of his cutlet, not because he’ll actually give you his, but because he’ll help your brother guard his plate. You’d only have to mope for a solid of three seconds before the two of them give up both of their last slices, and you’re there when Yoongi insists for you to try the sauce in the spirit of going out of your routine.

You don’t need Yoongi every single time but in the event that you do, he hangs back. He contemplates and hesitates and doesn’t give in to every single whim that you have, but he’ll be there. He lingers like the last holiday ornament you don’t want to remove until it’s February, his presence being oddly similar to your favorite festivities.

Yoongi’s the equivalent of a holiday you look forward to with each passing month and day; he comes around to and for you in instances, but never even in your most sincere wishes.

“I buy one scratch ticket a week — three if I’m really feeling lucky. When my palms itch, that’s when I know that I really need to buy them.”

He’s calm and collected even when you’re scrunching your nose up at him in combined worry and disbelief, humming mindlessly as you collect your thoughts. He randomly told you about his lottery routine and you’re still trying to wrap your head around how he blows his money off just easily. Yoongi has the mind to put scrap cardboard under you because sitting on the hot concrete with your uniform on can’t possible be a good idea, but you try to play off your fluster into stubbornness.

He’s just playing with his two ever-present coins (lucky charms as he calls them)— one that’s shiny and minted in the present year, the other being the oldest coin he’s ever had that happens to be older than he is — while you mutter about.

“I don’t know, Yoongs. That might be a gambling problem,” you squint, your side comment being heard clearly as day. “Might be the symptoms for hand, foot, and mouth disease too.”

“What— I do not have a gambling problem! My skin’s perfectly fine too, thanks,” he defends, the light shove he gives you doing nothing to tone down your teasing.

“That’s what people with gambling problems say.”

“Give me that-…” he mutters, trying to wrestle you for the sundae he bought you using the money he won from his scratch ticket just awhile ago. You don’t give in easily, even if your laughs that come straight from your chest suggest otherwise. “You don’t get it. It’s just this nice, fun little thing I can look forward to every week. I always buy the cheapest version anyway so when I lose, it’s not a big deal.”

You relent (like you always do when it comes to Yoongi) in understanding, waving him off after regaining your breath. “Nah. I get it. We all have to do things so we wouldn’t lose our shit,” you trail, racking your head to find the right words.“Yours is buying scratch tickets, and mine is-…”

“Yours is what?” Yoongi raises an eyebrow, lips quirked in eagerness to know where you’re going with this. He can’t pinpoint a single thing he can attach to you and neither can you, your actual interests merely reflecting those of the people whom you love.

You love cross-stitching because your mom loves doing it, the tolerance you have for accidentally being pricked by the needle growing over time.

You enjoy playing badminton because Namjoon’s obsessed with the sport, no matter how ratty your rackets and shuttlecocks have become, and no matter how much he pushes you to ring the doorbell to your neighbor’s when he’s sent it flying to their backyard.

You’re probably an imposter yet you don’t feel like it. You don’t feel bad that your life most probably and will only revolve around your mom and Namjoon (maybe even Yoongi); you don’t feel dissatisfied that your life’s mundane. 

You go where your love goes.

“Mine is watching you buy scratch tickets,” you shrug easily as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, making him laugh heartily. You’ve probably done something right because he hauls you up to your feet immediately.

“Get up. I’m buying you your first ticket,” he nudges you, grabbing you by the arm in excitement.

“But I’m not even legal!” you half-heartedly argue, internally excited that you’re finally getting to try your hand at the lottery because you’ve spent a few hundred minutes of your life tuned to the channel to pass the time, awaiting the results for something you haven’t even betted for.

“Right. Like I haven’t seen you trying to squeeze out a drop of beer from our empty cans whenever Namjoon and I drink.”

“Rude,” you roll your eyes playfully, gathering your things from the ground.

“It’s okay. I’ll give you your first sip of beer too if you want,” Yoongi offers sincerely; easily as if you’ve just asked him about the weather.

He’s here to buy you your first scratch ticket, and he’s still here to offer giving you your first sip of liquor in the future.

Your family friend for a cashier vehemently ignores the fact that you’re still underage to participate in the lottery, and instead only chuckles to herself in amusement. She’s an aunt that knows when to step in and not to, and she knows you won’t be harmed by a mere bet. In fact, she knows you won’t be harmed by anything with Yoongi in tow.

“I already used up all my change,” your frown in realization, holding the ticket in your hands in despair despite having scoured your wallet repeatedly.

“Rub it against the pavement. That’s what I do,” Yoongi lies fluidly, a scoff being caught in his throat when you actually attempt to do it.  “I was only kidding, Y/N. Jeez,” he groans, pulling out his wallet. “Ugh. Here. You can have one of my lucky coins.”

It’s the old one, tarnished beyond relief that you can barely recognize what it’s actual value is supposed to be.

“Ew. I’m giving it back. It looks prehistoric,” you narrow your eyes, knowing that you don’t even have to put your fingers nears your nose to know that it’s already left a faint stench on them.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, a habit he can’t tell he’s formed himself or got from you. “If you use your brain for one second, you’d realize that it’s actually worth more because it’s older. Collectors would go crazy for that in the future.”

“That sounds like a hoarding problem.”

He’s just had about enough of your whining so he attempts to trade in the old coin for his lucky new one, but you stop him at the last minute with a meek smile.

“Kidding. Thank you. I’ll keep it safe, Yoongi. I promise,” you rush out before he changes his mind, scratching your ticket in silence.

He waits for you because you’re scratching so politely and neatly, a stark opposite to his experienced skill of scratching the paint off in ten strokes or less.

Your face is too close to the ticket that Yoongi can’t tell what’s happening, making him part your hair like a curtain to peek.

“Did you win?”

“Nope.”

“Let me throw that out for you.”

“No!” you squeak, keeping the ticket close to your chest. It’s a bummer that your first time is a loss, but it didn’t mean that you wanted to forget the sentiment behind it. “I-I mean no, I’ll keep it. It’s memorable now that I think about it.”

“Alright,” he shrugs carelessly, a smile breaking out in retaliation. “Hoarder.”

“Gambler,” you spit, tucking the ticket into your pencil case. “Next week again?”

Yoongi agrees, wrapping his head around the fact that he doesn’t have to be alone in his little routine every Friday.

“Sure.”

( ♡ )

You don’t mind getting hand-me-downs.

As a matter of fact, you love receiving them. The wear and tear of the things that came before you is only proof that it’s been loved enough to be passed on to you.

You adore your mother’s dainty vintage watch that she wore throughout college, the hardware and sentiment behind it being pretty enough that you don’t mind constantly getting the battery replaced. You like Namjoon’s shirts that he’s outgrown, even through the numerous phases he’s had wherein only denim and tie-dye filled his closet.

You don’t mind the history behind the numerous things you have in your home, unbothered that you’re probably the only house in the block with the oldest possible rice cooker. The chips in the staircase aren’t covered up with marker ink and neither are the loose stitches in the couch quilt snipped off. It’s home to your mother and Namjoon — if it’s good enough for them, then it’s already the best for you.

Even on top of everything, you don’t mind your family almost always getting you shirts and shoes that have an allowance in them. Your mom would go to Seoul and pick out the exact pair of sneakers you wanted that are atleast three sizes bigger than your actual feet, and you’d barely bat an eye. 

You don’t mind the coziness of things that are brought to you, because even if they weren’t offered, you’d seek them yourself. 

So when Yoongi mentioned that he’s decluttering his room and needed someone (read: you) to vacuum it up for him, you jump at the chance. You take a grocery bag with you, wear the nearest pair of slippers within your vicinity, and book it to his house as soon as he finished talking.

“Go crazy, kid. Almost everything in that pile is garbage so you can take anything.”

“I feel like I should be more offended than how I feel right now,” you hum, furrowing your eyebrows at the pile in front of you. It’s a mound of Yoongi, or atleast everything he’s ever wanted up until he decided to do a general cleaning of his bedroom.

Yoongi chuckles, going through his pile of clean laundry for him to fold on the side while you scavenge for his things. “It’s either I have you take them or I get ripped off at the thrift store, then I see somebody’s uncle wearing my shirt as an added insult.”

You huff, rummaging through his heap of belongings while conveniently trying to ignore that you may look like somebody’s uncle the moment you wear his clothes. Everything is him; every distressed cap, every unfinished embroidered shirt, and every item of old significance with his initials branded on it.

The thick gray hoodie you’ve been eyeing (along with its owner) for the better part of the last few years surfaces into your field of vision, your gasp audible enough to make him jolt because he thought you’d gotten hurt.

“No way, this too? But this is your favorite,” you half-complain and half-rejoice, turning the hoodie inside-out eagerly in the fear that there’s a catch to it belonging in the pile.

“Eh. I know it looked good on me but I don’t think it’s my favorite. Besides, I’ve bulked up! Wanna feel?” Yoongi grins, his segue eerily similar to your brother’s at every given chance. A neighbor from down the block recently opened a small-time gym, and the both of them have not been able to shut their mouths about it since. From their gossiping alone, Yoongi and Namjoon have generated enough advertising already.

“You and Namjoon really have to stop asking random people to feel your biceps.”

There’s random knick-knacks throughout the clump in the middle of his bed, some being too good and actually useful that you snag them. Yoongi lets you do what you want anyways (most of the time), not having to turn his head to berate you on what you’re only allowed to grab from his stuff.

You’re not greedy — you already have his hoodie and that should be enough on its own. But there��s that handkerchief with his initials embroidered on it, then that Rubik’s cube he swore his relative got for him from New York, and even the little butterfly knife he got from a souvenir shop when his family when to the beach.

There were those and there is this, looking up at you in all of its glory.

“Yoongi.” 

“What now?” he sighs at your dramatic gasp, looking up from his folded laundry to see what you were going on about. It takes a second for him to fully realize why exactly were you so pumped.

“Are you serious? Your helmet?” you squeal, already hugging the shiny red mass close to you. “Does this mean you’re passing your motorcycle to me?!”

“Are you crazy? Fuck no,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, snatching his helmet back from you. He doesn’t miss the bratty frown that fills up your entire face; he’s not exactly the biggest fan whenever you were upset or angry; maybe even both. “Obviously I forgot I even put my helmet there when I made that pile.”

You whine, stomping your feet in exasperation. You would dramatically plop down on his bed if only it wasn’t full of his shit. “Come on! You told me you were teaching me as soon as you finish teaching Joon.”

“Teaching you how to ride my scooter is not the same as giving you it. Why would I just hand you what I bought with my hard-earned money?” Yoongi scrunches his nose, tone sharper than what he intended.

“But you still haven’t taught me,” you murmur to placate yourself and dissuade yourself from the delusion that Yoongi would even exert such an effort for you because of course — why would he do that for you?

You have an inkling that you’re being irrational for all the wrong reasons, perhaps even projecting your need to be looked after… by him.

Yoongi notices your mood that turned sour quickly, the silence between you becoming loaded. He didn’t mean to be that blunt. “I don’t think you’re even old enough to have your driving permit,” he adds in consolation, voice considerably softer.

You snicker lowly, still looking at your feet with your arms crossed. “But I’m old enough to backpack whenever you need me to carry shit that can’t fit in your carrier.”

He immediately groans at your comeback, his furrowed eyebrows mirroring yours. “You’re so stubborn.”

“You’re a hypocrite,” you retort, knowing for a fact he’s known how to drive even before he was eligible for permits and licenses and whatnot. 

Yoongi takes one, two seconds to himself to regain his composure, clearing his head in the process. You’re still not looking at him and you’re pouting and you don’t even notice the latter, making him crack a small smile.

“I will teach you next week.”

“Oh my-…”

He cuts you off, raising his hand in emphasis. “Provided that you listen to everything I say and wear full gear at all times. You clearly don’t have a job yet-…”

“Ouch.”

“And I don’t have the extra money to buy full gear for myself, so what you’ll do is bundle up with your padded coat and the thickest jeans you have,” Yoongi enunciates every word, eyes keenly on you. They’re too wide and alert, you actually feel like listening to him.

“You go on rides wearing your pajamas.”

“Just say ‘thank you, Yoongi’.” 

“You haven’t done anything yet,” you trail off, head tilting in confusion. 

You’ve had a million conversations like this with Yoongi before but of different fonts; worn, familiar, and warm.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” he mouths, nodding at you to do the same. He won’t stop until you utter them back to him, and you know you won’t go home either without giving him your gratitude as you always do.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you relent, the grin that breaks through your lips being infectious enough that he laughs lowly to himself.

He exhales all the worries he has and could possibly ever have seeing you ride the motorcycle (or for you yearning to do everything that he does), grasping at whatever sanity he has left from looking after you.

“You can have the helmet.”

( ♡ )

Yoongi knows the ins and outs of your home.

He’s been at your house too much to the point that your mom already gave him a spare key and nobody batted an eye about it. He has his own designated slippers at the entryway too, something you would only use in a hurry if you needed to sign off on a package.

Yoongi, for some reason unfathomable (not really; you can tell exactly why because your mom is an extremely warm and inviting person), also has the power of dibs on the food in your fridge. He’d put strips of masking tape with his name on food that’s neither brought in nor made for him in the first place. 

It should be off-putting — the way that for too many yet too little reason, Yoongi has become a prominent figure in your life even if you didn’t ask him to. You should be peeved that you have to set up four plates more often that you set up only three; you should be annoyed at some point that when you wake up at random times through the night, you’re not totally alone to begin with.

You shouldbe angry at Yoongi to a degree because he’s in your life and you don’t get to have a say on how he stays in it. The only problem is that you’re not, and probably never will.

“Can’t sleep?” you mutter as you look up from your strikingly clear paper, seeing Yoongi strut across the floor with a casualness that only real occupants of the house should supposedly possess. He has his brows furrowed at you as if he didn’t expect to see you in your living room, scratching his head in wonder.

“Why are you up?”

“Stressed,” you sigh, giving up altogether in attempting to make yourself look busy. Yoongi drives by your fridge to get himself a can of beer, finally seating himself beside you on the floor. 

“Stressed about what? I’m sure it’s not about studying,” he snorts, unsurprised at your paper and the clear lack of motivation behind it. You only roll your eyes at him and he has half a mind to not remind you to not do it so much, the frown in your face reminding him that you really were frustrated.

It is you to throw the occasional tantrum, but he remembers that it was only when you were young; when Namjoon would whisper gibberish to his ear and purposely not whisper to yours just so he could tease you, or when nobody would believe that you taught yourself how to ride a bike with no training wheels. You didn’t know how to do the latter at all, but what had made you throw a tantrum was that nobody believed you.

You notice Yoongi’s digs, of course. You notice each one of his more than unsubtle nods to your intelligence and whatnot, the shots at your intellect not flying over your head like he expected them to.  You admit that you’ve never been that scholastic; you weren’t born a genius and you don’t try exactly hard either.

Yoongi’s only joking but you can’t help but to think that he’s pertaining to something deeper, his constant digs at your lack of a passion making you sluggish.

“We have to write this essay,” you answer simply, your tone straightforward and unwilling for banter but Yoongi bites anyway.

“But essays are the easiest,” he trails, looking at you the whole time as he takes a sip of his beer.

You exhale heavily because no matter what, he just can’t seem to get it. Yoongi knows where you’re coming from but he doesn’t know where you’re headed. As a matter of fact, you don’t know where you’re headed either. “We have to write an essay about where we see ourselves ten years from now.”

“But that’s still easy.”

“If it’s so easy, then go write it for me,” you snicker, leaning back with a huff. He constantly undermines you and although you own up to your striking mundaneness from time to time, it didn’t mean that you liked being looked down on. Yoongi’s too used to you being yourself, he gets taken aback when you grow sick of your own.

He gathers all his willpower, far from being sleepy unlike you who would’ve been lulled to sleep if only you weren’t dead-set on arguing with him. “You know what? I actually will,” he claps, handing you his beer. “Go hold this for me.”

Yoongi grips your pen for dear life like you hold his beer, his hand warm as he works from sheer determination alone (he’s not competing with anyone except for whatever expectation you have for him and your paper), while yours was cold just holding his drink.

You’ve been so quiet that he actually gets curious, turning his head to check to see if you’ve dozed off when actually, it’s just you eyeing the can.

“No one’s watching,” Yoongi breaks you out of your thoughts, carelessly shrugging. He cares and he’s far too concerned for you, but he figures that nothing would hurt you so long as he can grasp you. “It’s okay. You can have your first sip.”

You blink owlishly at him and when he jokes about taking it back, you take your first swig of beer in a panic. Yoongi only shakes his head in amusement, pausing his writing just to see the look on your face.

“One more?” he asks right after he sees you wince, the unbearable sweetness yet bitter, stinging aftertaste of the beer making you shudder. 

You have the urge to wash off the taste with ice cold water (you’ll even drink from the tap because you’re so desperate), but you resist it just so you wouldn’t look like a weakling in front of him. You wave him off with a bitterness, upset that beer doesn’t taste like what you’ve always imagined it to be. “Just write my essay for me,” you mull over the taste in your tongue, in deep thought while you stare at Yoongi’s back ahead of you. “Do all beers taste that way?”

“Eh. Most of them do. You develop a taste for it later on,” he answers, taking the can back from you before drinking it himself. He looks too dedicated in writing your essay, only goading the curiosity in you to peek over his shoulder.

He knows you, both in heart and memory, because he shields your own paper from you when he sees your shadow hovering above him.

“Yoongi?”

“Hm.”

“I told you why I’m up. Why are you up?”

He’s silent entirely, the only indication that he heard your question being his hand pausing abruptly. Yoongi doesn’t answer, and you don’t ask again. “Don’t worry about it.”

You take his answer to heart, dozing off on the couch before you know it. You don’t remember a blanket being placed on you, nor can you remember preparing your backpack for school the next day.

Your paper’s neatly tucked into your portfolio bearing handwriting that’s clearly not yours, but with a sentiment that’s similar nonetheless. You read through everything quickly before even stepping towards your teacher, the tips of your fingers just as cold as Yoongi’s beer last night.

You’ve committed the paper into your memory, even until the last part with an excerpt you can’t forget despite having passed the paper already. You don’t know what to feel because it’s Yoongi who’s speaking for you, detailing that ten years from now, you will still be your mother’s daughter and your brother’s sister.

He wrote your essay either for you or in behalf of you, and you can’t tell which one is better.

Yoongi, who knows the ins and outs of your home and the peaks and troughs of your heart, writes in clear handwriting — Ten years from now, I will still be Yoongi’s rock.

( ♡ )

Surprisingly, Yoongi hasn’t been around that much lately.

Even Namjoon (who you consider as his Siamese twin) is clueless to why his friend hasn’t been hanging out with him lately to do either everything or nothing, confused because they’re enrolled to the same classes all the way to the same part-time jobs, yet Yoongi’s been mostly unavailable.

When Yoongi is, however, he doesn’t speak at all about his previous absences. He comes as if he’s never disappeared a few times before that, his evasion to talk about his presence being apparent even if you’ve asked him directly.

You’re getting used to his new routine of hanging out with you only when the both of you are free, no longer moving mountains for both of your schedules to line up. He’s more present this month than he was at the last, the criteria for it being how many times you bump into him in your own home.

Despite all odds and evens though, Yoongi can’t get used to your silence. He knows you hold grudges longer than your brother, and the last time that he checked, he knows you’ve already let go of your annoyance for him suddenly being unavailable without any explanation. 

It’s late, only the two of you are awake in the living room, there’s ten scratch tickets on the table for you to share, and he’s even gotten you your own glass to which he’ll put a controlled amount (a grand total of two long sips) of his own beer in. You’re not stressing about an essay this time, but the unconscious pout on your face is still the same.

“You’re awfully quiet.”

The frown on your face only goes deeper at being found out, the scratch of your lucky coin being the only clear thing that Yoongi hears. 

“My best friends want to have this slumber party,” you sigh, more upset about what you’ve just uttered than you are happy about the cash prize you’ve just won.

Yoongi takes what you say at face-value, groaning at his third straight loss for the night. “That’s great. Wear cute pajamas, snap a couple of polaroids, don’t be the first to fall asleep and last to wake up, and just keep a pocket knife with you when you’re going out by yourself.” 

The awe (and slight concern) over what he said should roll in any time now.

You should be comforted at Yoongi’s words because they’re supposed to ease the swirl of your stomach, even if what he just said is a repackaged version of what your family said before. You should let go of your worries because Yoongi, of all people, says that it’s supposed to be great.

Instead, you feel neither of what you think Yoongi wants you to.

“Was it something I said?” he mumbles after some time, turning his nose up at you as he tries to retrace his words. “I have an extra pocket knife you can borrow if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“We’re gonna be talking about boys, Yoongi,” you screw your eyes shut, sighing into the palms of your hands with a heaviness. “We’re gonna talk about crushes and experiences and all that.”

He shudders at that, his reaction mirroring Namjoon’s when you tried opening up to him. You get your brother’s reaction to a degree, of course, because you feel as if you’d be disgusted too if the roles were reversed. You want to talk about it with your mom too, but at the end of the day, she’s your parent and you just can’t talk about anything and everything with her. 

Yoongi’s your next plausible option.

“Do you want some ice cream right now? You know what, I’ll buy you-…” Yoongi tries to evade the topic altogether, his attempt of escaping feeble as you drag him down by his hoodie.

“I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

“Heh.”

Yoongi shrugs at that, regaining his words when you deadpan at him. “So? What about it?”

You starfish on the floor at that out of frustration, the whine you’ve been bottling up coming out in the open because as usual, Yoongi doesn’t get it. “I-I’m probably the only one in my grade who hasn’t kissed someone yet! I can’t just lie carelessly because obviously, they’ll ask around.”

“So?” Yoongi chuckles, his breeze towards your state shocking you. “What’s it to them if you haven’t had your first kiss?”

“You don’t get it,” you grit through your teeth, crossing your arms so hard that it feels hard to inhale.

“I’m pretty sure I do,” he sing-songs, drinking the last of his beer. When you’re not looking though, he plans to either drink or chuck the remainder of your share because he doesn’t want you to develop a taste for it.

The anger you have for Yoongi bubbles up once again, the itch in your throat unbearable. You’re presented with the age gap between you once more, along with the raging emptiness in you that Yoongi’s reached so far and you’ve reached so little.

“You don’t get it because you’ve had all of these experiences when you were younger than my age right now,” you snap, although you don’t look at him when you do. If you do look at him though, you’ll only be reminded of how a face like his could have everything in this world — even a first kiss you’ve never had.

“Yeah, and so?” he knits his brows, growing defensive. You weren’t lying at all, but he still feels a little offended at the dig. He’s not not proud of it, but with the way you say it, it’s like you want him to burn in shame,

“Stop saying so,” you angrily mumble in frustration, a little breathless because you still don’t ease up on crossing your arms.

Yoongi straightens his posture, staring you down with his jaw set. He’s stern as he is, nostrils flaring in irritation. “No, Y/N. I’m genuinely asking — so what? What’s it to you if I had my first kiss at a younger age? What about it if everyone else in your grade has kissed someone and you haven’t? It’s not the end of the world.”

“I-I don’t know! It’s just unfair!” you let up, yielding to both the facts that Yoongi’s right with it not being the end of the world, and that you’re still entitled to feeling upset.

“Instead of spending time obsessing over your first kiss, maybe I don’t know,  try being productive? You’re heading to college soon and you haven’t even thought of a career,” Yoongi goes off on you, making you roll your eyes automatically. There he goes again with the great big push of trying to push you into your supposed passions in life. “Someone else’s luck doesn’t mean it’s already your misfortune.”

“But it is.”

You say it so definitively, you almost convince him. You have your principles and so does Yoongi, but not everyone else. You have your principles yet you don’t have the luck. You’re not getting anywhere in life just like Yoongi or anyone else who was remotely born into wealth, no matter how quiet or obvious.

You can’t pursue something that interests you in the slightest without thinking what would come out of it. You can’t think of a degree and a course you’ll stick with, enough to do for the rest of your life because the only other option is to fail completely if you don’t. You have no plan and no passion and you don’t know if you’ll ever amount to anything to anyone at all.

By all means, you don’t agree with Yoongi this time. Someone else’s luck is your misfortune, in the same way that his first kiss doesn’t mean that it’s yours.

The sidetrack to your argument is a closed case already, judging by your downcast gaze. “I just have to put myself out there, that’s all. My first kiss doesn’t even have to mean anything. I just want to have it,” you admit, shoulders relaxing.

“Don’t,” Yoongi groans, the opposite of you as his whole body tenses.

He thinks that you don’t get him at all.

“What do you meandon’t?”

Your argument’s long-over (atleast you thought it was) but Yoongi’s getting more agitated by the minute, the disbelief on his face throwing you off. “Don’t do things just because you feel like you have to! Are you even hearing yourself right now?”

“I don’t want to be left behind, Yoongi! That’s all I’m trying to get at,” you raise your hands in surrender, shrugging thoughtlessly — it makes him want yell into a paper bag in exasperation. “I don’t want to be picked last. I don’t want to not be wanted.”

Yoongi exhales, screwing his eyes shut. It stays silent like that for a little while; him calming himself down, and you scratching your tickets. The calm doesn’t stay for long because you open your mouth carelessly, again.

“Can you be my first kiss?”

“Are you insane?”

“Ugh.”

You go back to your fourth scratch ticket, pouting in disappointment. You’re unfazed about the win that’s probably the largest sum you’ve had ever since you started doing the lottery.

You’re upset and you’re sick in the stomach but you stay silent like you never asked Yoongi to be your first kiss; it’s like you haven’t indirectly admitted to him that you love him enough, more than so, to want him to be your first.

You’re about to scratch the final ticket when Yoongi juts his hand out, fingers barely brushing yours to stop you.

“On second thought, don’t scratch that. Just keep it.”

“Because you want to turn me into a hoarder too?” you snicker, heeding his suggestion regardless.

“Because I’m not going to be right about everything,” Yoongi mumbles, looking at you with a solemnness you can’t decipher.

You try until the solemnness turns into pity.

“Still don’t want to be my first kiss?”

Yoongi softly laughs to your face, smiling as he lets you down — whether easily or harshly, you can’t tell.

“You already know what I’m going to say.”

( ♡ )

You’d like to think that you’re not kept in the dark about most things.

You already know that although your mom hasn’t had any relationships since your dad left, she still has plenty of suitors. Some of them are the reason why you have random food deliveries in the middle of the dinner that she’s already cooked, some have sucked up to her by getting you and Namjoon gifts. 

You know about Namjoon’s growing love for football, even with the lessons he takes in secret because he didn’t want to trouble your mom for the money. It’s why he does his part-time job and why you’re looking for one anyways. You don’t want nor need much, so you almost always give him the remainder of your allowance by the end of each week.

Yoongi, on the other hand, you don’t know much about. You know that he’s an only child with a doting mom who works overseas and a rich but emotionally unavailable dad at home, and that’s about it. His home life is synonymous with yours, considering that your four walls have become an extension of his.

Maybe you’ve become too lenient on him — either that, or he’s become too disrespectful. It’s at times like these where your house is not his home, sickeningly so that you don’t want it to be yours either.

Yoongi is a sight to behold as he makes out with a half-naked girl on your bed, in your room. Your room has never been the neatest but with everything going on, it feels that it’s become the dirtiest that it’s ever been. Your house slippers are on the floor even if you always leave them by the entryway, and your sheets are a mess despite being one of the only things you try to keep folded in the room.

You’re angry, too much to the point that the words get caught in your throat. They catch onto bile and venom and everything at once, the strain in your voice heard when you yell.

“What the fuck?!”

Yoongi and the girl, whom you figure out to be Hyewon that he’s shared his first kiss with, jolt in unison. Hyewon’s scared shitless while Yoongi’s annoyed to death, the grunt he lets out pricking your ears further. “Sorry, sorry. She’s my best friend’s sister. She’s so annoying,” he drags you out of your room before he even gives you the entitlement to storm out of there in a fit of rage, seeing red the longer that he seems upset at you.

“What the fuck was that, Yoongi?” you grit through your teeth, the moment of you seeing red turn into white because you’re so frustrated that you could actually cry. Your chest’s heavy, not only out of rage, but out of everything that’s built up in the course of years.

“Can you keep it down?” Yoongi seethes, pursing his lips. “What, would you rather see us do it in the living room?”

“In the — what? Who do you think you are? This isn’t even your house, why are you bringing these girls here?” you point an accusing finger at him yet he doesn’t back away, his annoyance for you only growing tenfold.

He’s in the wrong no matter which way you look at it yet he doesn’t realize it, the epiphany that Yoongi genuinely thinks he’s in the right for doing this to you making your skin burn in fire.

“This is literally the first time I’ve ever done this! I can’t bring her back to my place, my dad has guests over!”

“So your smartest idea is to fuck someone in my bed?”

“Oh, you’re welcome. It’s the most action your four walls have ever seen,” he spits sarcastically, eyes narrowing at you. It takes little effort for him to dig up what you came to him for in worry and it terrifies you. The facet of Yoongi who had sternly told you that it was okay to be left behind if it means getting what you deserve, resembling nothing like him at the moment.

“I can’t believe you!” you whisper as you tremble, the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. “I told you that in confidence.”

“In confidence? It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you’re not exactly a catch, Y/N.”

You clench your jaw so hard that it hurts, you ball your fists so tightly that it stings.

You leave your home without saying another word.

.

.

.

Namjoon’s panicked.

He came home a little later than usual because he had maximized the life out of his soccer lessons, only getting the signal to leave when the lights were turned off. He was only slightly worried at the first place because he was supposed to cook dinner for the both of you, but he placated himself by realizing that you’re not the baby that he still thinks you are — you could cook dinner for yourself if you were hungry already.

He thinks nothing of it. In fact, he just makes a quick stop at the convenience store so the both of you could indulge in a liter of ice cream without your mom urging to leave some for another night. You could think of a recipe from scratch (and it almost always works out at the end), so Namjoon walked in fully thinking he’ll get to sniff whatever concoction you have.

Except, he walks into a completely dark house, and that’s when he panics.

He can’t find your slippers by the entryway and you’re not in your room either. You’re not at the other convenience store hunched over taking your chances on scratch tickets, and you’re not out on the street either going people-watching.

The panic rises in him the more that Namjoon grasps this is the first time that this has ever happened and he doesn’t know why. He’s always made an effort to be absorbed into both your personal and academic affairs, and as far as he knows, you’re neither in a sleepover nor on a field trip somewhere.

Namjoon thinks it’s his fault someway somehow, and the guilt can’t fully dissipate from him until he sees you.

“Hey, Yoongi,” he breathlessly gasps the moment his friend answers, the latter being surprised because he thought it was you who was calling him after what happened awhile ago.

It’s his fault and he’s realized that hours too late, and the selfish part of him thinks that it’s you calling at ten in the evening begging for forgiveness.

“What’s up, man? It’s late,” he wonders out loud, thinking for a second if they were too much of the Siamese twins that you tease them to be because he can’t think of a rational reason why Namjoon would call him at this time of night.

Namjoon raggedly exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’m just wondering if you’ve seen Y/N by any chance?”

Yoongi’s heart drops so loudly that Namjoon thought for second that his friend had hung up on him, his urgency being shared the moment that he asked.

“What? Y/N isn’t home?” Yoongi asks in disbelief, immediately being filled with anxiety and disbelief. Just awhile ago, the two of you were arguing outside of your room. He did hear you leave, but he had fully expected for you to be back hours ago. He’s wracked with guilt all over, the drop in his chest amplified by the pit in his stomach.

“She’s not. Practice ran late and I-I know she’s responsible so I didn’t hurry home,” Namjoon recalls, being more and more frazzled by the second. “She left her phone here, and mom isn’t here either because she’s visiting my grandparents, a-and I don’t want to call her because I know she’ll be worried, a-and-…”

Yoongi interrupts him, the tremble in his fingers only enabling him to dig his nails into his palm deeper. “I’m coming over. Let’s look for her together.”

It barely takes a minute for the both of them to come together, not even exchanging any pleasantries with each other before Yoongi steps on the gas. 

Namjoon’s filled with guilt, the type that only a sibling could carry as a burden. He thinks he was too selfish — too accustomed to pulling your own weight that it must have given you the impression that you had no other choice but to. Whatever it was that made you leave out of the blue, Namjoon thinks he could’ve done more. He should’ve came home and made you dinner as promised, for starters. He’s guilty over the fact that he’s the only close familial male figure in your life and he let this happen, as he makes Yoongi put his headlights on high-beam, scanning for anyone that looks remotely like you.

Yoongi, on the other hand, is filled with a guilt he can’t even begin to explain. It corrodes him from the inside-out in realization that he’s to blame for your sudden disappearance, the fact that Namjoon comes to him first to help find you not helping at all. If only your brother knew what he had done to you, he’s positive that he’ll be on the receiving end of a punch — what gets him more is that Yoongi wouldn’t blame him at all.

They see you in the bus stop two cities away, dressed in the same clothes you ran out with. 

Namjoon’s relieved beyond compare while Yoongi’s fuming, his hands tucked inside his jacket to prevent himself from squeezing you into an embrace; neither of you deserve it. 

There’s an underlying anger within Namjoon, one that lies behind the back of his throat as he checks you over for any injuries. The two of you walk ahead to Yoongi’s car while he himself trails behind, his heart significantly calmer than it was the past hour, yet nowhere near normal.

“Wanna tell me what you did?” your brother hums, trying to exhale the worry that’s embedded into him with each squeeze he gives around your shoulders.

“Went to the convenience store, bumped into my friends, then we took this impromptu roadtrip to go to the night market, then we all had our first actual shot of liquor and not just beer, my friend who owns the car turned out to be a lightweight, and now everyone just has to commute home,” you narrate in recollection, squeezing Namjoon back to try and ground him.

“Okay,” he answers simply, nodding. “Wanna tell me what happened before you did all those things?”

The breathless chuckle that leaves you is empty, void of any amusement at all. You smile nonetheless, unable to placate both yourself and Namjoon. “Nope.”

You arrive in silence to Yoongi’s car, the words unsaid between the three of you generating more tension than your brief disappearance itself.

Yoongi opens the front door for you, but you settle for sitting in the backseat.

[notedchampagne]

What makes a tlt au work for you? Do u have any favourites out there/that you’ve thought of?

its hard because it can go down to the writing! i have a huge bias for things that put focus on the characters acting awful and driving the story forward- if a story has a plot thats great, but its the difference between "gideon and harrow keep meeting up at parties and fall a little bit in love every time" and "gideons angry she lost her childhood to the cult so she attends a party with the tridentarii to shotgun adolescent experiences, and harrowhark, frustrated that gideon is pulling on her metaphorical leash, follows to stalk her". the former retains a 5+1 fic format and is more bite-size, while the latter puts more focus into their growth as characters. im not great at articulating what i like specifically, but ill put my favorite fics below:

what if nona was dogs tugs at my heart: its post-canon, slice-of-life, and has a unique concept (said in the title). i judged a book by its cover because i thought the premise seemed too silly at first but ive been made a fool and its pet clown. it feels so true to nona the way its about all the things nona loves and how she gets to explore the world through new eyes. i love the way it explores characters softening up and getting hurt through a third person pov

we have always lived in the apartment by @thatneoncrisis i keep saying this but for the love of GOD guys this au is so good it makes me cry and feel such a deep catharsis from it. it takes gideon and harrow and the ninth as a cult and explores their struggle to adapt to a modern society when noone ever gets a break (WOW ITS JUST LIKE IN REAL L-). quinn writes the sides of griddlehark i think go overlooked in fanfic often: their codependency, their tendency to lash out when theyre defensive, their mutual paranoia and different coping mechanisms, harrows psychosis and gideons bitterness, their relationships to each other as being the only other person who really understands what the other suffered through. god. i feel lightheaded.

"but SAM, i dont like angst but i want to see this writing!" read gap between a tragedy and a comedy

"SAM, i also like when gideon and harrow are horrible because theyre maladjusted teenagers! but i want more antics where the characters drive things forward over angst!" read whats eating gideon nav

you just aint receiving is one of my FAVORITE modern aus of all time (and i heavily recommend the authors other fics as well!) if you really want to see how much i love this fic the fact that my comments take up the entire phone screen probably says a lot. its hard to put it concisely: it keeps harrows air of misanthropy and cruelty but redefines it as the result of her upbringing and personal struggle to live in a university while dealing with a backpack of mental illness and frustration. it changes gideons personality as the daughter of john gaius in a way that makes sense having her grow up with johns middling parenting skills and getting everything she ever wanted (connecting it back to kirionas personality in ntn!). it brings in side characters (specially palamedes. my beautiful boy palamedes) in ways that compliment harrow and gideon but not so obviously that they only exist to be supports. they have their own lives and ideals. its a modern au that brings in the boiling politics of johns cult uprising once again in a really novel way

semi charmed kinda life by @griddlebait. jesuchristo and all his middle names this fic is GREAT for you if you want a slice of life, coming of age type modern au that explores what its like for gideon and harrow if they actually got the space to see who theyd become outside of the stifling fate tlt has for them. as far as modern aus go im usually very hesitant to read them because im afraid modernizing the characters takes features away from their core but i really love and respect the way the author treats the 69ers with care and draws distinct lines that shows me how their grow and change while keeping a line to the anchor. also they write HIDEOUS (complimentary) PINING. DISGUSTING. some of these chapters were so chock full of dyke drama that they made me nauseous and whimsical. i think once a friend said this fic felt like if gh could be reincarnated and i like that descriptor a lot

til the cows come home is another postcanon fic that made me feel sick and crybabyish about it- i would definitely recommend it if you want to explore a happier ending with griddlehark! with this and what if nona was dogs the thing i like most about them is that they mix up vulnerability with pain and fear, so it feels more lifelike that way if that makes sense. i lost my taste in fluff fics over time but when its interspersed with struggle and characters causing problems because they cant cope with themselves it feels much more earnest and raw

this became very long. im not sorry

[moraxsthrone]

⊹✧˚｡⋆ title — sir kaeya

⊹✧˚｡⋆ pairing — k. alberich x f!reader

⊹✧˚｡⋆ wc — 5.7k

⊹✧˚｡⋆ cw/an — nsfw. mdni. alcohol consumption (duh it's kaeya). kaeya being a bit of a tease (duh it's kaeya). oral (m & f rcv'ing). snowballing (how fitting). clit slapping. this fic sprang forth from the very first genshin thing i ever wrote (the scene at angel's share) so it's really special to me. kaeya was my first genshin love and will always be my favorite. 💜

surprising as it would be to most, you’d never been to mondstadt before this week’s multi-regional summit. as a diplomatic representative of your region, many would guess that you’d been all over teyvat. but you’ve only held your current office for a little less than a year, and although you did your best to absorb as much information and knowledge as possible from your predecessor, it’ll take a lot more time and experience than what you have so far to be as efficient as they had been. so, for now at least, the job keeps you busy - too busy to travel for pleasure.

so when the final meeting of the last day gets canceled, rather than go home early you take the opportunity to do some much-anticipated exploring of the city of wind and its culture. 

“i’m famished! pray tell, sir kaeya, where would you recommend we go to enjoy the most authentic dishes of mondstadt?”

kaeya alberich, cavalry captain of the knights of favonius, has been charged with keeping you safe. as your security detail, he accompanies you almost everywhere you go - keeping a low profile during policy meetings - blending in with the background while also being close enough to stand between you and any potential threat or danger.

“we?” he asks, looking slightly confused. “will someone else be joining you?”

“if you’ll be so inclined…” you say before biting your lip and looking away shyly.

“me?”

you’d have to be blind not to have noticed his striking good looks the moment you were introduced to him on the first day, and it certainly wouldn’t hurt your feelings one bit to allow the captain to keep you company. likewise but unbeknownst to you, the gorgeous knight has stolen a few glances of you when you’ve been too busy to notice. he has especially enjoyed your pretty smile and the sway of your hips when you walk. more than once he’s allowed his gaze to linger on your curves perhaps a little too long.

“but of course! i don’t want to eat at a restaurant alone while you just stand there and watch. can you think of anything more depressing?” you joke.

“you make a valid point,” he says with a quiet laugh. “very well. allow me to treat you to good hunter. you’d be hard pressed to find a more impressive menu! miss sara makes a mean sticky honey roast - i can’t recommend it enough!”

as the two of you dine together, you enjoy easy conversation, becoming better acquainted with one another. when kaeya introduces you to miss sara, she goes out of her way to prepare for you a sampler of sorts, citing it as the perfect solution to your conundrum of deciding what to order because everything looks so tasty. she also insists that your bill is on the house, refusing to take any mora you offer, but you leave behind a handsome tip anyway. if nothing else, you want miss sara to have it as thanks for her warm and welcoming hospitality.

“what would you like to do next, m’lady?” kaeya asks, walking alongside you towards the city’s center.

you should be used to this title by now, but something about the way the cavalry captain looks at you when he says it sends a small rush of heat to your cheeks.

“oh, i don’t know. why don’t you surprise me?” you say, flashing him a coy smile, which he finds irresistibly adorable.

he takes you to marjorie’s souvenir shop before leading the way to the anemo archon statue in front of the cathedral. from there, the two of you take a stroll outside the city walls, engaging in playful banter along the way. your personalities blend well - he’s pleasantly surprised at your ability to keep up with his wit, and his charm wins you over with ease. by the time the sun is setting over the edge of the western horizon, your conversation is flowing effortlessly. the two of you haven’t been able to shut up for hours when you ask him,

“so where’s the best place to get a drink in this town?”

the knight’s smirk spreads into a full smile as he hums. “i know just the place.” 

⊹✧˚｡⋆

the tavern is packed, and you’re inclined to believe kaeya’s got that pirate blood he claims to have since he’s standing on one of the big wooden tables, surrounded by other rambunctious patrons of angel’s share, singing along with the bard’s songs about legends of sea and treasure. their energy is contagious (obnoxious if you ask diluc who just rolls his eyes and shakes his head from behind the bar). 

you’re right there with them, clapping and laughing when kaeya reaches out, takes your hand, and pulls you up onto the table with him. neither of you are sure if the visible heat on the apples of your cheeks is because of the alcohol or because of the sudden proximity of your bodies. with an arm around your waist he pulls you right up against his side and wow! he’s more powerful than he looks. the song is about finding love on the run and kaeya is acting out the lyrics with you, embarrassing you to no end but you’re having too much fun to ask him to stop, so you just go with it. 

the song’s story ends with a kiss and you think you might just die when kaeya’s arm flexes against the small of your back, fastening your hip to his thigh. he brings his lips right up to yours, but they don’t quite touch. your eyes go wide as you stare into his periwinkle orb that sparkles with mischief. he practically whispers the last line of the song, his dandelion wine breath wisping over your lips. 

the cheering of the men around you grows distant, drowned out by the blood rushing through your ears. 

kaeya’s heart pounds against the palm of your hand resting on his chest.

you watch with bated breath as his ice-blue eye darkens with his diamond pupil. he shifts his weight and your knees feel like jelly when his lips but graze yours before he smiles and pulls away with a laugh. 

raising his cup, he cheers along with the surrounding audience before hopping off the table. setting his drink down, he reaches for you again, this time to help you off the table. you accept, and he pulls you closer before his deft hands clasp your waist, lowering your feet to the floor. 

a tease that kaeya alberich, you think, but a chivalrous one. 

while you find yourself mingling with other patrons it seems kaeya never lets you out of his sight. he’s never too far away, engaged in his own conversations with some of the other locals when you look over to find him looking at you over the rim of his wine glass. 

when one of the gentlemen offers to buy you a drink, kaeya seems to appear out of nowhere and places a hand on your lower back. 

“oh, that won’t be necessary,” the knight interjects, voice filled with cool honey. “all her drinks are on the knights of favonius this evening, but a kind gesture, i’m sure.” 

“why, sir kaeya, if i didn’t know any better i would think you’re trying to keep me all to yourself tonight,” you say with a teasing lilt.

his lips part as a slight blush appears on his cheeks, but he quickly recovers. “just performing my knightly duties to keep you safe, m’lady.” 

when you’re ready to go, kaeya’s having such a good time that you don’t want to end his night. so you make your way to the bar to pay your tab, only to be told that your drinks have been bought and paid for already (oh, he wasn’t lying).

you wander out into the cool night, the sound of the crowd and the smell of booze muffled behind the thick wooden door. no longer had it shut behind you than you feel your back being pressed against the tavern’s exterior wall. you gasp, only to breathe easy when you find yourself pressed between the wall and your now-tipsy chaperone.

“thought you could get away so easily, hm?”

your eyes are glued to his smirk. those lips that promised to kiss you earlier won’t soon leave your mind.

you laugh breathily while giving his chest a gentle push. “i didn’t want to put a damper on your fun.”

“who said my fun is over for the night?” no sooner than the words leave his lips, his eye widens as he quickly realizes how inappropriate it was to say that. “oh dear, it seems i’ve forgotten my manners. please accept my apology, m’lady…”

his panicked attempt at clarification is interrupted by your laughter. “relax, sir kaeya. i won’t hold it against you.” 

he really wishes you’d stop calling him that. it makes his dick twitch every time and you both know his pants will leave little to the imagination if he gets a hard-on.

he stumbles walks you back to the goth grand hotel, removing his cloak along the way and draping it over your shoulders when he notices you shivering in the cool night breeze. when you reach your door, he lingers as you unlock it with the intention of ensuring you make it inside safely. the bolt unlatches and you turn to face your chaperone again. 

he’s looking down at you and opens his mouth to bid you good night when you pull him in by his shirt and kiss him. it’s a huge risk, one you never would’ve taken were it not for the liquid courage coursing through your veins. maybe he isn’t really interested in you and that’s the reason he didn’t kiss you earlier.

much to your relief, he kisses you back. passionately. 

his warm tongue swipes across your bottom lip and you eagerly chase it with your own. you slide your fingers inside the opening of his shirt, balling it in your fist to lure him inside. his chuckle is low and breathy when he smiles against your lips which never leave his as you slam the door with your foot and push his back against the nearest wall.

“hahh…who knew you could be so forceful, m’lady?” he pants.

“sorry, but…” you say between kisses, carding your fingers through his soft hair, “...you teased me earlier and…” another kiss, “...i really wanted that kiss,” you finish with a whine.

“well, why didn’t you just say so, hm?” kaeya says, sucking on your lower lip with a hum.

his thumbs slide under your top, massaging little circles into your skin. there’s not a hint of humor in his voice when he rolls his forehead against yours and rasps, “i’ve been wanting to kiss you until you can’t breathe anymore…”

in one swift motion, kaeya spins you around effortlessly until your back hits the wall, his cloak falling off your shoulders as he catches your gasp in his open mouth, making it clear to you that he’s the one in control now. his fingertips dig into your lower back and pull your hips from the wall, forcing them to collide with his so you can feel what you’re doing to him. you let out a quiet moan at the feeling of his semi pressing against your thigh. his lips leave yours to venture along your jaw before trailing down the column of your neck, his blue hair fluttering in your breath and filling your senses with the cool, clean scent of his cologne.

you reach down and fumble with kaeya’s belt, swearing at it under your breath when it doesn’t cooperate. with one hand and a couple flicks of his fingers, it hits the floor with a clamor of leather and metal. you have much better luck with the fastenings of his pants, his lips returning to yours with a shuddering breath just as you free his cock and start stroking his wide shaft, so hot and hard.

he quickly pulls his gloves off and hikes your skirt up to your hips, exposing your creamy thighs.

“so warm…” kaeya whispers, raking his long, slender fingers along your skin until he reaches your apex. “n' so wet…”

“hhhgods fuck…” the words leave you in a huff, making him groan when you rub your thumb over his slit to collect his slick bead of pre. “f-hnn-fuck me, kaeya~”

with your blessing, he wastes no time pulling his now fully hard cock out of your hand in favor of grabbing the backs of your thighs and picking you up. you lock your ankles behind him with a whimper, the back of your head rolling against the wall when the underside of his dick glides over your dripping pussy lips through your damp panties. kaeya’s got two handfuls of your ass, his deft fingers curling and pulling your underwear to the side to let his leaking cockhead seek your naked opening. he begins to push himself inside, dropping his forehead to your shoulder with a long groan as his tip pops through your tight ring. 

you cry out, one of your hands flying to the wall behind you as you loop an arm around his neck for stability. kaeya spreads his legs a little further apart for leverage as he sinks a little deeper inside you, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. before he’s even fully sheathed inside you, he retreats just to push in again and starts fucking you, slow and shallow. he’s barely halfway in and you already feel so full, the thick vein on top of his shaft rolling under his skin as he pushes and pulls at your slick, gummy walls.

“so tight~” he breathes, open lips ghosting across your face as he goes for your lips again. “are you okay?”

all you can do is dumbly nod as your eyes roll back behind fluttering eyelids and a huff of a laugh bubbles from his smile. “feels so good…so good to me, kaeya~” 

you’re practically singing for him already and he hasn’t even bottomed out yet. it would probably go to his head were it not for the fact that he’s too far gone from the wet heat of your pussy sucking him so hard, the lip of your ring catching on the head of his cock with every draw of his hips, driving him too crazy for his ego to remain intact anymore. 

your elegant neck is exposed to him, letting his open lips drag along your moistening skin as your back moves up and down the wall with his thrusts. kaeya’s long, slender fingers grab your jaw and pull your lips to his. you’re so nice and wet for him that your need is spreading to his hips and balls. the sound of his thighs hitting yours when you finally take him all the way goes straight to your head. it’s one thing to feel kaeya fucking you, but hearing him fuck you - moist slaps of skin, his quickened breaths and quiet groans so close to your ear - it’s driving you out of your mind.

the cryo wielder pulls you away from the wall, your hot tongues swirling as he carries you to bed. his fingers squeeze the plush of your ass, guiding you along his throbbing shaft as he goes. kaeya lays you down before reaching behind his back to unlock your ankles and spread you open for him. 

he pulls out and stands up, looking down at you and letting out a breathy chuckle when you whine a little at the loss of his girth. but the view is delicious so you don’t complain. his rigid cock is thick with a large vein running his length and an angry, almost purple cockhead that’s dripping with fresh precum. his tan shaft glistens, wet with your slick. it bounces under its own weight as he kicks his boots off and pushes his pants down. 

you both watch the other undress with urgency; he makes quick work of his shirt as you shimmy out of your skirt. save for the battle scars, his lithe body is flawless - tall with long, lean muscles. seeing him like this makes you bite your lip and rub your thighs together.

kaeya’s lips curve into a small smile as he crawls towards you on the bed, his hands gently caressing the tops of your thighs as he kneels between them. he leans down to kiss your cheek, his long rat tail licking your breasts. “you are so fucking beautiful,” he says, barely above a whisper. “i've been dying to taste you…”

a sigh leaves your lips as he makes his way down your body, kissing and licking, sucking and nipping in all the right places. his breath feels so warm against your skin, save for the few times he purses his lips to blow cool air on the spots he just licked. he swirls his tongue around one of your nipples, only to replace it with his cool fingers while he gives the other the same treatment. the juxtaposition of warm and cool makes you arch off the bed, moaning when your clit brushes against his naked belly. 

gradually, kaeya makes his way further down, ghosting kisses along your bikini lines as his hands spread your thighs open just a little more for him. he watches your dewy petals unfold for him, exposing the hard little bud they’ve been hiding. “fuck…” he mutters, “...such a pretty pussy…”

“kaey-” you start, but your voice is cut off by a gasp when his warm tongue swipes swiftly along your slit. a single periwinkle eye stares up at you as he flicks the tip of his wet muscle over your clit, soft and light as a feather. he’s teasing you. you can see the mischievous glint in his eye as he dips his tongue into your hole. finally, his lips latch onto your needy clit, making your hips leave the bed when you thrust into his mouth. 

his taste buds rub your tiny erection, your flavor making him moan as he sucks you harder. one of his hands finds yours, your fingers interlocking while his other hand grabs and kneads at your heaving breasts, your soft tummy, and the plush of your thigh. 

he pops off you, drool and slick coating his chin. “your flavor…fucking delectable~” he breathes before diving back in.

he nearly sends you over the edge when he pushes two of his long fingers inside your clenching cunt, curling them to find that unmistakable rough spot within. your walls squelch helplessly around him as he finger-fucks you. your free hand grabs and pulls mindlessly at his hair, hips rocking to fuck his pretty face as he gives you the head of your life.

“ohh~ kaeya~” 

the searing coil that’s been spooling deep in your belly is getting impossibly tighter and when the cavalry captain hums on your clit, the vibrations send you. you cry out for him, back arching, walls clenching around his curled fingers. he pins you to the bed with his free arm and moans, a wet spot forming where more of his pre leaks out of his throbbing cock when your fists tighten around his cerulean locks. you cum for him, thighs clamping around his head while his tongue pulses over your clit until you’re fully spent.

kaeya situates his hips between your legs, wiping your spilled essence from his flushed face with a breathy chuckle before pressing the underside of his cock between your slippery folds. you taste yourself on his tongue when he kisses you, and he relishes your gasp when his swollen cockhead catches on your overstimmed clit. 

grinning against your lips, he says, “oh? feeling a little sensitive, hm? perhaps you’re not quite ready to take my cock again so soon…” he teases, pulling away but you squeeze your thighs around his hips, impeding his escape and making him laugh.

“i can take a lot more than you think, sir kaeya…” you purr, twirling a strand of his blue hair around your finger.

there’s that glint in his eye again when he licks his smirking lips. “is that so, m’lady?” he croons, reaching between your bodies to grab the base of his cock. biting his lower lip and holding your gaze steady the cryo user slaps the head of his cock hard against your clit, swallowing your cry at the sharp pressure. “fuck,” he groans. “you make the prettiest sounds for me…”

“so mean,” you whine, digging your nails into his biceps when he pushes his blunt tip inside you.

he drops his mouth to your ear as he slowly spreads you open around his girth, whispering, “...and you love it.” 

his sultry voice shoots down your spine straight to your core, making him moan deliciously when your weeping walls clamp down on him. kaeya starts slow and even, pulling almost all the way out before easing himself balls deep a few times, making you feel every inch as his cock drags and pulls along your slippery insides. 

the lingering effects of your orgasm have left you even tighter than the first time he fucked you. he can already feel the heat pooling at the base of his spine, his balls drawing closer to his body when his hips begin to snap. there’s no way he’s going to get enough of you before he cums. you feel too fucking good - the way your little cunt is squeezing and sucking him so hard, drooling and soaking his entire length as he fucks you. the pretty little sounds your mouth and your pussy make for him…your whines and cries of his name, the slurps and squelches of your juices all over his cock. 

he’s got to get more of you, plunge his cock deeper inside your hot, wet cunt. 

kaeya pushes up onto his knees and props your ankles on his shoulders, still fucking you through it all without missing a beat.

“oh gods, kae- kaeya~...feels so good, don’t stop!”

“wasn’t planning on it…” he pants as he leans forward, putting you in a deep press so he can hit the spot that makes your hips leave the bed. “...gonna fuck you until this sweet pussy of yours creams all over my dick…”

you’re twisting the sheets in your fists above your head, the firm ridge of kaeya’s cockhead bumping against your sweet spot with every snap of his hips. strands of blue hair are sticking to his tan skin, a bead of sweat trickles down his chest before dripping onto yours. his palms are planted firmly on either side of you, veins popping out along his sinewy arms as muffled grunts form in his throat.

your walls are closing in tighter around him, both of you can feel it. his name is leaving your lips in broken syllables, coming out in huffs with the force of his thrusts: “kae-ya…y-you…fuck…g-gon-na…” is all you can manage before he fucks your next orgasm right out of you. you’re pawing at his chest, crying his name, clenching so hard around him you’d push him out were it not for him pounding into you harder, fighting to stay inside, determined to fuck you all the way through it with his brow furrowed and jaw clenched.

his balls ache, but he’s able to hold out for a few more seconds before the coil snaps inside him. he swears and pulls out quickly, his narrow hips still jerking and his arm flexing as he spills his hot, sticky seed out onto your belly and tits. you watch the pleasure wash over his beautiful face as his cock twitches in his own hand, a groan giving way to a satisfied sigh as the last of his cum oozes from his slit.

one at a time, he lowers your feet to the bed on either side of him. both of you are out of breath, chests heaving as kaeya dips down and licks a glob of his still-warm semen from your skin before bringing his mouth to yours. you moan in his mouth at his flavor, eagerly swirling your tongue around his to let him feed you his fresh, salty cum. 

when he rolls off of you, both of you just lie on your backs in comfortable silence for a few moments, catching your breaths and basking in the afterglow. 

“i guess this means you’ll be leaving soon, hm?” you finally ask. 

with one knee bent, kaeya turns his head to look at you as you gaze up at the ceiling. “is that your way of kicking me out of your bed?” he asks with a forced smirk. 

“no,” you chuckle. “i just didn’t take you for the type to stick around after a one-night stand…” you turn onto your side to face him. “but if i’m being honest, i really don’t want you to leave.”

“just how big of a whore do you think i am?” kaeya asks, contriving to sound offended and making you chuckle. he mirrors you and rolls onto his side, tenderly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “i’m glad you want me to stay. i’ve had more fun with you tonight than i’ve had in a really long time.”

“is that right?” you say, biting your lip and dragging a fingertip down his enticing cleavage. “then why should our fun end?” you lean in and kiss him, his lips meeting yours softly.

“i didn’t say it should...” kaeya says before pressing his lips to yours again.

you press your hand against his chest, prompting him to lay on his back. goosebumps rise to meet your lips when you kiss his tan neck. he leans his head back and gasps quietly when you gently palm his softened cock. your touch is exquisite. he wants more of you but first he’s content to enjoy the wet kisses you leave along his skin as you work your way down to one of his dark and tightly budded nipples.

you smile and look up at him when he moans your name at the feeling of your tongue flicking over what’s proving to be one of his most sensitive spots. continuing on down, you take your time ghosting sweet kisses along the valley of his taut abs, all the way down to his cute navel and blue happy trail. you’re appreciating the time and care he obviously puts into his manscaping when you wrap your fingers around his still-sticky cock, surprised to find it so hard again already. 

with a couple of fingers holding his base, you swirl your tongue around his salty cockhead and fuck he tastes good. you close your lips around his tip and give it a little suckle before popping off again to kiss the underside of his rigid shaft. you can still taste yourself on him too, somehow making you want to suck him even more. 

sliding his slender fingers into your hair, kaeya mutters, “y/n…please…”

you finally take him in your mouth, your saliva coating him as you slowly sink down until his tip touches the back of your throat before hollowing your cheeks and pulling back towards his tip. with a slight tremble of his open legs, kaeya’s fingers tighten in your hair - not to control your pace or depth, but because the sheer pleasure coursing through him has all of his muscles tightening. 

“ahh~ feels so…nnh~” he sighs as you take him in again, “...good.”

the sounds and words leaving his mouth are going straight to your pussy. you want to know just how good you can make him feel so after a little more cocksucking, you pull off him and move to straddle his hips.

you and kaeya hold eye contact as you line him up with your slit, dragging his tip between your pussy lips a few times. you’ll never forget the pleading look in his eye or the way his lips part when his blunt, leaking tip catches on your opening and you begin to lower yourself on his length. kaeya takes your hands in his, intertwining your fingers as your eyes flutter shut at the sensation of being filled once again with his girth.

you lean down to kiss him as you begin to ride him, slowly at first but gradually working yourself into a frenzy. kaeya’s hands grip your hips as you pop your ass on him, gliding along his filling cock. your moans turn to whimpers as you feel yourself approaching another orgasm and you start bucking your hips. 

“ka-hahh~ kaeya…” you sit up, your hands anchoring themselves to his chest, using his body as leverage to drag your clit along his happy trail. 

kaeya’s fingertips are digging into the plush of your butt, aiding your thrusts as he whispers words of encouragement. “that’s it, y/n. you’re doing so well…fucking me right…you’re almost there, keep going~”

and just like that, your fingertips dig into the muscle of his chest as your orgasm rips through you. you’re crying his name out over and over as you spasm all around him and the very fibers of your being feel like they’re being torn asunder until your body begins to go limp. kaeya welcomes you into his embrace as you lower your chest to his, your hot breath bathing his neck as you try to catch it, still whining here and there as he kisses the side of your head and tells you how fucking amazing you are.

with some of your strength and mind returning, you rise just enough to kiss him again, finding a fleeting look of sheer adoration in his eye before he lifts your hips and pulls out of you, his rock hard, creamy cock slapping against his happy trail. he moves you onto your belly while he positions himself behind you, pulling your weak hips up until you’re presenting for him.

“is this okay?” he mutters, dragging his tip along your quivering slit.

eyes still closed, you nod weakly against the bed. “ye-yes…please, kaeya~”

with one hand on your lower back, he guides his cock inside you before hooking both his hands around your hips. he fucks you slowly, pulling almost all the way out before sinking himself fully inside your heat again. but it isn’t long before kaeya’s wet hips are slapping against your ass and he’s watching the creamy ring you’re leaving on his cock, mesmerized by how beautifully it contrasts with his darker skin. the thick vein on top of his cock is rolling under the pressure of your tight, sucking cunt - every time kaeya thrusts inside you. 

you’re whimpering again. “s-sir kaeyaaa~” you whine at him over your shoulder. 

“love it when you call me that…” he pants.

“i- hahh~ i know~” you say with a sly, exhausted smile. 

his balls are tightening again - rolling around in his sac as the muscles around them seek to force his seed out again, making him moan and exhale a long “ah, fuuuuuck~” behind you. “gonna cum…”

after a few more stuttered thrusts, kaeya buries himself deep inside you, his tightened balls pressed hard against your clit as he unloads himself. “i’m...nggh...i'm cumming~” he can’t help but moan loudly as he coats your walls with his hot, milky seed. a couple of thick globs leak from the rim of your hole, and drip down his tight, dark-skinned balls.

kaeya nearly collapses on top of you, but manages to land on the bed beside you, pulling you close to him. you’re facing each other but your eyes are still closed as you both kiss whatever part of the other’s body or face is closest, too exhausted to mutter a single word. 

⊹✧˚｡⋆

dawn comes, bringing with it her harsh light. your eyes flutter open with a squint, turning away from it only to find an arm lying limply around you. 

oh. oh right. that happened. 

you smile weakly at the fresh memories of your drunken fuckfest with the cavalry captain of the knights of favonius.

the fact that your duties in mondstadt have been fulfilled and you’ll be leaving to return to your homeland give you a low, sinking feeling in your heart. after a few minutes of replaying the events of the previous night and considering your options, you gingerly move the cavalry captain’s arm off your body - slowly and carefully so as not to wake him. 

⊹✧˚｡⋆

kaeya wakes with a groan, his eye blinking open to find himself alone in the hotel bed. he sits up and looks around, calling your name once but to no avail. he thinks ‘how predictable’ when he realizes you left without even saying goodbye. he tries to ignore the ache in his chest, reminding himself that he should be used to it by now. he throws the covers back to start getting dressed when from the corner of his eye he catches something flutter: a folded piece of parchment that had been resting on your pillow. a thread of hope dares to weave its way through his heart as he picks it up and begins to read:

“you looked so handsome and peaceful in the morning light, i didn’t want to wake you. thank you…for everything, but especially for the night before. i don’t want to call it “last” night because i truly hope it wasn’t our last. please reach out if you feel the same. i’d love for you to visit my homeland so i can be your tour guide and return the favor…i’d love to see you again, sir kaeya alberich…”

you’d signed it with your name and a simple, small heart before writing your address below your signature.

a couple of days later, you receive a letter inside an envelope with the seal of the knights of favonius. 

“of course i feel the same. our time together was far too delightful to have been so brief. i would love to visit you and experience all that your homeland has to offer. the acting grand master has been urging me to take some time off to relax anyway. so just tell me when and i’ll be there with bells on. we’ll paint the town red and enjoy as many more nights together as you please, my lady.”

— sir kaeya

kaeya m.list | main m.list

⊹✧˚｡⋆ 18+ reblogs, likes, comments, and follows always appreciated !! i give you all kithkith !!

[skzfairyyydreamz]

Gentle Love w/ Bf!Channie❣️

(listening to save you by rum.gold on repeat while reading this is highly recommended for ambience purposes). Masterlists

Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Friends to lovers

pairing: Bestfriend/Bf!Chan x Fem!Reader

a/n: This seasonal depression got ya gurl heavily craving some form of comfort so this one was a bit self indulgent. i’ve never wrote a headcanon before but i really enjoyed making this so i hope you enjoy it too! (please give me your feedback) reblogs are super appreciated. taglist is open so lmk if you would like to be taglisted!! Lastly Thank you sm for being here; sending lots of love and big hugs to everyone who needs it right now. 🫶🏼🫂

© Skzfairyyydreamz - Plagiarism is a crime. Do not repost, alter, translate or copy without my consent.

Bestfriend!Channie who settled with his unrequited love for you bc there was nobody else who could ever compare to you & nobody else he had eyes for.

Bestfriend!Channie who always had to love you from a distance bc he just didn’t have it in him to confess and potentially ruin something that was so special to him.

Bestfriend!Channie who had to sit back and watch you love shitty men who didn’t deserve you.

Bestfriend!Channie Who watched you cry over men who didn’t even deserve to be in your presence in the slightest. 

Bestfriend!Channie who helped you through each heartbreak bc there was never a time that he wasn’t there when you needed him. 

Bestfriend!Channie who knew in his heart that there was absolutely nobody that could ever love you better than he, bc he knew you better than anyone else in the world.

Bestfriend!Channie who finally worked up the courage to tell you how madly in love with you he was and always has been (with the help of your mother ofc; she saw the way he looked at you with the whole galaxy in his eyes and had always wanted you two to be together. Mama always knows best!) 

Bf!Channie who loves you with every bone in his body and every fiber of his being.

Bf!Channie who just wants to save you. Save you from all your past love traumas and mend your heart. 

Bf!Channie who helps you on your healing journey. 

Bf!Channie who shows you all the gentle, soft love in the world, bc its what you’ve always deserved.

Bf!Channie who makes it his business to give you the best of everything and stands on that. 

Bf!Channie who always puts you first. Before anything and anyone. 

Bf!Channie who does his best to learn and indulge you in ALL of your love languages. 

Bf!Channie who never fails to treat you like a princess, a queen, a goddess and more. 

Bf!Channie who will tie your shoes for you and slap your hand when you try to open doors on your own. “Don’t you ever reach for a doorknob in my presence, thank you very much!” as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head in a playful disbelief. 

Bf!Channie who will take off a week of work if you’re sick just to nurse you back to health regardless of your protesting. 

Bf!Channie who is always showing you off, rolling out the red carpet no matter who’s around. 

Bf!Channie who refuses to let either of you go to sleep upset at each other. bc he just cherishes you and prioritizes the importance of communication in your relationship that much. (he’s honestly such a king) 

Bf!Channie who is always calm and gentle with you; attentive to your feelings even mid argument.

Bf!Channie who takes interest in/ learns about all your hobbies and things that you are passionate about bc seeing you happy, makes him even happier. 

Bf!Channie who is so fond of your family and siblings. he has great relationships with all your family members and will never miss a single family gathering regardless to his busy schedule and idol life. 

Bf!Channie who hates to see you hurting or in pain. With teary eyes he wouldn’t hesitate to tell you “Princess You know i’d take this pain for you in a heartbeat if i could!” whether it be a broken bone, killer period cramps or even something as simple as a paper cut or a headache. His chest is heavy knowing there isn’t much he can do to comfort you and stop you from feeling any physical pain or discomfort. (i’m literally on the verge of sobbing, not me making myself emotional half way through writing this some one please send help 😭) 

Bf!Channie who is such an amazing listener. whether you are ranting about a horrible day at work or having a transparent moment about the current state of your mental health. He listens super attentively, giving you his undivided attention. Never breaking eye contact, He’ll hold both your hands in his occasionally leaving gentle reassuring kisses to your knuckles as you sit on your bed cross legged in front of each other. (this is so so so boyfie channie coded nobody talk to me im sobbing 😭) 

Bf!Channie who loves to take you on romantic night walks through the city. it has been your thing for years even before you two started dating. 

Bf!Channie who always invites you to join him on his late nights at the studio bc he just wants you to be near him. Even tho you are quite literally just there to sit in a reclining chair eating snacks while you rest your legs in this lap. You both are so content and cozy. He claims to work better with you around him and you absolutely adore watching your sexy producer man boyfie in his element. even if you are only staring at the side of his face for hours on end you will never turn down his offers.  

Bf!Channie who takes the sidewalk rule super seriously. there will never be a time where he will let you walk on the outside of him, always keeping you safe from any passing cars with his right arm around your shoulder, your waist or holding your hand while you walk together. 

Bf!Channie who is super protective and can be slightly possessive over the love of his life. always wanting to know your whereabouts and who you’re with; Sometimes even hiring a bodyguard for you when you are solo traveling for work or going to big modeling events when he isn’t able to attend with you. especially since you’re now well known in the public eye for being the significant other of one of 4th gens greatest! you now need to be protected and taken care of at all times (at least in his mind you do!) But You don’t blame him or ever complain bc you’ve been in pretty dangerous and traumatic situations before and thank god channie has always been there protecting you. He really has always been your knight in shining armor (shining armor being a black beanie and hoodie in his case 😂) 

Bf!Channie who loves your natural body just the way it is. Always reassuring you that he loves all your curves and the things that make you, you. Regardless to your insecurities he always has his hands on you some type of way whether he’s playing with your hair, resting his hands on you, absentmindedly massaging your legs while you two watch a movie together or coping a full feel as he walks past you in the kitchen; squeezing a whole hand full of booty cheek 😂 his hands are always on you. It’s so obvious how attracted and madly in love with you he is. 

Bf!Channie who loves your goofiness and all the silly ways you show your affection towards him. He loves it when you’re completely yourself. absolutely adoring whenever you’re in a playful mood and you just walk up to him to give him a quick bite on the shoulder and walk away with a smile on your face. he loves it even more when you’re really hyper and you do something unhinged like asking to give him a forehead kiss but instead licking his face and running away from him in a fit of giggles before he can catch you. (which he easily does a few seconds later) 

Bf!Channie who loves your pretty brown eyes. easily zoning out sometimes getting lost in your deep eyes mid conversation which always ends up with his ears and cheeks turning a bright red color at you snapping your fingers in front of his face and the sound of your voice bringing him back from a daydream.. “Hello!?? earth to loverboy!? are you with me?? ”

Bf!Channie who loves how soft you are with him. Always touching his hands or softly grabbing one of his pinky fingers when you want to get his attention to show or tell him something. He melts into a puddle seeing how soft your eyes are for him and how your voice is always just barely above a whisper when you speak to him in the warm comfort of your home. you walking up to him while he’s relaxing or doing random things around the house, pushing a few strands of his hair out of his face or softly grabbing his chin and turning his face towards you to simply ask him if he’d like you to make him a quick snack or bring him a cold drink. it unleashes a swarm of butterflies in his tummy and makes his knees buckle every time without fail. (he never understands how something so soft and gentle drives him so crazy, he’s clearly weak in the knees for a soft dom!mommy 🥴) 

Bf!Channie who is so enchanted by your comfortable silence. You two have created such a cozy and calming atmosphere in your home. Always finding each other at random areas of the house at any random hour of the day and enjoying each other’s presence without saying a word. Bringing comfort to one another simply by just.. being. You could be catching up on a new kdrama as chan would come and lay his head in your lap for a nap, intertwining your fingers and placing your hand on his chest. And without a word you’d grab the throw blanket off the back of the sofa and put it over him so that he could sleep comfortably. the feeling of his heartbeat underneath the palm of your hand instantly bringing you a unexplainable warm fuzzy feeling. this was just something that always seemed to happen naturally for you two. this part of your relationship was like a tacit agreement. The way you would climb into channies lap and rest your head in the crook of his neck after finishing up a few house chores as he just scrolled on his phone. it was something so soothing that you both thoroughly enjoyed but never spoke on bc you simply just didn’t need to. this atmosphere you created in your home was even felt by others around you. Family and friends always telling you guys how they felt utterly safe and comfortable every time they were at your house. And that was your favorite compliment to receive as a couple. You two were made for one another.. everything just seemed to work. Truly the best of soulmates. 

Taglist: ??? @hanniemylovelyquokka @goblinracha <;3

buy me a coffee?

[craftypeaceturtle]

TMNT 2003 Fic Recs

These are mostly going to be hurt/comfort, with a lot of Don fics.

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Homecoming by Technodawn

Donnie is kidnapped by someone and held captive for four years.

Posted on fanfiction.net, this fic is brilliant! One of those fanfics that I read entirely one sitting because I couldn't stop. Lots of brotherly moments and the time Don is held captive is emotional and visceral. This whole fic is so grounded and well thought out.

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Turning the Blade by Pebr

All of the brothers start experiencing the same intense nightmares and all need to come together to face those fears. Only Leo spirals from these nightmares and falls further from his brothers.

Not for the faint of heart with its vivid descriptions and gore. Fantastic exploration of the characters and Leo in particular. A super creative idea with a unique threat. The exhaustion and injuries make the fic feel real and intense.

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Blood-Stained Tiles by RealityBreakGirl

Donnie panics after having to stitch up his father.

I'd recommend anything by RealityBreakGirl in all honesty but this fic has a special place in my heart. It's so sweet and explores the idea of Donnie as the team medic and the pressure that puts him under.

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The Gauntlant by T33la

Donnie has been working on a gauntlant that can negate gravity- but it's highly experimental and glitchy. But soon Mikey and Donnie have to bet their lives on this tech.

Again, would recommend you read through everything T33la has ever written, this fic in particular is my favourite. Reads as an episode of the show. The characters are so vibrant and in-character. Some fantastic action and character moments that won't leave my head.

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Find the Road by SillySocks

A series of oneshots exploring how everyone is dealing after Leo is sent to the Ancient One.

Such a great exploration of family and what these characters mean to each other. Kind of blows my mind that this idea isn't in a bunch of fanfics. A slow almost grieving look after Leo leaves as everyone finds a new normal and tries to keep going as well.

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It Takes a Village by GreenGoddessSmoothie

April is stressed out to the max with dealing with her baby. Thankfully Donnie and Leo come to the rescue.

You won't find a better April hurt/comfort fic. It's so sweet and an amazing fic which explores how these three all see each other. It's one of those fics which is great to read while trying to sleep, very fluffy and a great read.

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Can You Break What You Can't See? by lunaless

Donnie struggling after the mind probe.

One of my favourite post-mind probe fics. The struggle Donnie facing to keep his mind in tact and also everyone struggling to get out of the ship is great! It feels intense and the growing realisation that Donnie isn't okay makes for a great read!

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The Afterward by halogalopaghost

Donnie after his secondary mutation slowly recovering and being nursed back to health. The cure didn't work instantly and everyone is on edge trying to coax him back to health.

Yes. YES! A great fanfic with a lot of medical speculation and the helplessness of watching a family member fall sick. Leatherhead's exhaustion, everyone's desperation. A fantastic read! Also please check out halogalopaghost, another fantastic fic writer that I could recommend every single work they've done.

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Midnight Comforts by mattyj

Raph comforting Don after he had a nightmare about SAINW.

OH! If you want a great character based conversation which completes destroys my heart, you'll find it here. Such a sweet fluffy fanfiction. A fantastic look into Don and Raph's relationship. A must read if you're a sucker for that dynamic.

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Matchmaker Matchmaker (Make Me a Match) by LilliputianDuckling

Donnie is in love with Usagi but mistakes that interest in seeing how great Usagi would be in a relationship and so setting him up with Leo.

Okay I usually avoid shipping stuff since it doesn't really interest me but this was so cute and put an interesting spin on Donnie and Usagi. A great little read and the moment when Raph realises what's actually going on is great. The fic that makes me prefer Don x Usagi rather than Leo.

[pokemonshelterstories]

Dear Charlie,

Recently my vet brought up a specialized PokéChow for my Clodsire Stump, that apparently uses reverse-chirality precursors for the molecules Clodsire uses to manufacture it's venom and the poison in the mucus, that recently passed FDA approval (I'm Unovan).

Stump is very physically affectionate, and isn't a battler, so I wanted to ask a professional in Pokémon care if this seems like a reasonable or sane thing to even consider doing. I love my big girl, and obviously I don't want to do anything to hurt her, so I figured I'd ask my favorite Rotomblr microcelebrity how they felt on it.

well, from a medical and a nutritional perspective, i'd definitely trust your vet's recommendation over a random blog's. however, i can help explain a little bit about how it works.

chirality, or "handedness," just means that a molecule can't be superimposed over its mirror image. it's a sort of asymmetry that a lot of biological compounds have. by inverting a part of one of these compounds, you can adjust its effect on the body. in effect, over a period of time this food reacts with the toxins produced by clodsire to make them less dangerous.

while this is a great concept, i do have a couple sticking points to point out. the first is that FDA approval doesnt necessarily mean that a food meets your pokemon's complete nutritional needs, so you should always consult with your vet to make sure a food is suitable for your pokemon. the second is that, while it may dampen the effect of a clodsire's toxins, it may not completely eliminate them. you still need to be careful about too much cuddling for this reason (and also because clodsire need their mucous to keep them moist and help them breathe, and touching them wipes that mucous off).

these specialty foods also tend to be really, really expensive. you'll have to decide for yourself whether it's worth the cost.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 4861

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, mental illness, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

10. S'mores

It’s the “sex play” (God, that term is so cringe) thing being on the table that builds the tension in the apartment, all of them knowing about it but none of them talking about it. Mary sure as shit doesn’t have the guts to break that ice, and now Bucky’s always deep in thought and quiet around her. And Steve, well.

Steve is like a big, mopey golden retriever who knows its humans are upset but doesn’t know how to help besides headbutting things affectionately.

Mary’s feelings for him only grow when she realizes that he really hasn’t told Bucky about that night in the kitchen: the things she’d confided about the razor and her nightmares and sneaking out to the gym. Knowing that Steve’s stuck by his word like that makes her like him and trust him a whole heck of a lot more. 

But it doesn’t solve the underlying problem. 

There’s a court hearing in front of a judge next month to revisit the custody arrangement—Next month. And one afternoon while Bucky’s out of the apartment, Steve gently informs Mary that Dr. Linda is recommending the order be extended. Jesus fucking Christ. 

And then the results to that test Linda made her take, the “Submissive Sexual Interests and Tendencies Assessment”, arrive in the mail (addressed to Bucky, because of course they would be), and Mary gets her hands on them after Bucky and Steve read them, and she’s mortified at what it says about her.

Tendencies: Passive aggression (reactive aggression in lieu of submission), emotional outbursts, low self-esteem, impulsive sexual promiscuity, self-harm, alcohol use disorder, possible co-morbidity (OCD, EDNOS, BDD). Dynamic Preferences: single dominant authority figure, structured domestic routine, service, discipline, monogamous relationship, emotional bonding. Recommendations: Following assessment review, patient is most likely to benefit from continued domestic control in a consistent (24/7) environment. Transfer of custody not recommended. Continued therapy sessions and educational courses at CDP highly recommended. Most beneficial therapeutic modalities include limited corporal discipline, sex play, and reward-based service routine.

There’s a ton of infuriating psycho babble bullshit packed into those results that she could get upset about, and she does, but Mary’s eyes track over that one, most-horrible phrase over and over again: 

“Transfer of custody not recommended.”

Fuck.

She loses sleep over it, sneaks out of the apartment in the middle of the night and does cardio at the gym until she’s exhausted enough to head back home and pass out. It pisses her off that this is such a thing now. She doesn’t want to be special needs, she should have the right to choose whether she even wants treatment or not! She resents the hell out of Bucky and Steve for having custody of her the way that they do. They’re clearly expecting her to blow up or something, after the news from Linda and the SSITA results come in. It’s so obvious that they’re walking on eggshells around her, Mary halfway wishes they’d just do something. One way or the other, it’d be better than this.

Linda claims that they’ve expressed “positive feelings” about a sexual dynamic, but if they have, they sure aren’t expressing it to Mary. She suspects that most of that positivity has come from Steve, and probably only because he’s a golden retriever in human form who just wants to do what’s right and good, not because he or Bucky are particularly attracted to her.

While she has managed to clean herself up quite a bit since moving in with them, Mary isn’t delusional: she realizes that Steve and Bucky are very attractive men, whereas she’s just average. She tries to tell herself she’s fine with that. She knows Bucky and Steve could probably get like, a supermodel to sleep with them if they really wanted to. Mary’s not in their league, and that’s okay. 

But if they’re not attracted to her that way then they should at least have the decency to just say so! At least then she could find someone else, get back on Tinder, or even sign up for one of those ProDoms that the CDP has. Darcy said Thor was good, so maybe Mary could request him? The way that Darcy had described the guy, he sounds like he's a hunka hunka burning Nordic god. Mary could go for that.

She brings it up casually over dinner, framing it lightheartedly, and Bucky literally crushes his water glass in his prosthetic hand. “What?” he snaps, frowning down at the mess he’s just made. “No.”

Mary huffs and goes to fetch the desserts while Steve gets the waste bin and begins scraping the broken pieces of glass into it like it’s just another Tuesday. “I don’t see why not,” Mary complains from over at the counter. She’s pulled the plates out from the fridge and grabs the butane torch for the meringue.

“Jesus,” Bucky exclaims when he sees the industrial sized torch she's wielding. “Where’d you get that?”

Mary purses her lips as she focuses on achieving the perfect amount of toastedness. “Hardware store,” she mutters. “So why can’t I go see one of the ProDom’s again?” She purposefully over-torches Bucky’s meringue, because she can tell that this isn’t going to go her way. “Sounds like a win-win. You don’t have to deal with me, I can meet new people, and insurance pays for it. What exactly is the problem?” She’s trying to force him to admit that he doesn’t want to Dom her sexually, trying to get him to see that something’s gotta give and he’ll have to let her use one of the ProDoms eventually if that’s what the severity of her “condition” requires (gigantic ‘Ew’). 

But frustratingly, he refuses to engage with her on the topic. “It’s a no, Mare,” he tells her sternly. “Pros are for people who have more experience. You don’t.”

Mary seriously doubts that. “Linda didn’t say that,” she argues, carrying the plates over to the table and handing the nice one to Steve and the burnt one to Bucky. 

He pulls it closer to himself and raises an eyebrow at it. “Linda’s being diplomatic,” he mutters. “I thought you said you were making s’mores?” 

Yesterday, Bucky had been talking with Steve about how much they both missed their old camping trips they used to take. The two of them must’ve waxed poetic over campfire s’mores for ten whole minutes. So Mary thought this would be an excellent way to butter them up. Apparently not.

She sniffs and picks up her fork. “They are s’mores. It’s a plated dessert, Bucky. An interpretation. It’s not literal.”

He grunts and peers at his portion, poking it dubiously with his fork. “What’s it made of?”

Mary heaves a sigh and snottily recites: “Honey Sablé, 70% Valrhona cremeux, cold-smoked Italian meringue, torched ‘mallow, Graham crumb streusel, and tempered chocolate stick for garnish." Both Bucky and Steve stop poking at their plates and just stare at her for a second. 

“Sounds good,” Steve chirps, and digs into his.

Mary stares Bucky down, until he too, deigns to eat the apparently too fancy for him version of a  s’more. “Oh, damn,” he says after the first bite, looking taken-aback. “I can taste the smoke.”

Mary preens, then asks again about the ProDom. “Well if I’m not getting it there then who the heck’s supposed to fuck me?” she winds up blurting out of frustration.

When that direct reference doesn’t elicit any response from Bucky besides a barrage of bossy instructions for after-dinner cleanup, Mary loses a bit of the hope she’d been holding onto that maybe Linda was right about them being attracted to her. She just gave him the perfect fucking opening, and he didn’t take it. She gets the kitchen cleaned up from dinner, resigning herself to another evening of platonic domination that doesn’t quite hit the spot. 

Nightly drops are nice. Not as nice as they were in the beginning, the effects having waned quite a bit from what they once were, but still better than no drops at all. 

Mary sits on her pillow on the floor, head on the couch cushion next to Bucky’s thigh, listening vaguely to the sound of the television while she enjoys the feeling of his fingers carding through her hair, lightly massaging her scalp. It’s been a while now, and she doesn’t think she’s going to get any deeper. It’s late, already they’ve watched two full episodes of their show, and Mary’s got work tomorrow. It’ll be bedtime soon. 

A big yawn works its way up in her throat, and Bucky chuckles when it finally breaks free. “Tired?” he asks.

“Mmhm.” She inhales deeply and sits up, sleepy and squinting. It takes a moment before her eyes adjust to the darkness of the room and Bucky’s form sitting right in front of her. Wow, she’d been really close to him, hadn’t realized just how close. Had she been … hugging his shin? God, she hopes not. Not like she hasn’t spent whole evenings fantasizing about rubbing her face all over his thighs and his— Nope. Not gonna think about that when he’s sitting right there. She tears her eyes away and forces that train of thought to stop right in its metaphorical tracks. 

“You good, Hon?” Bucky asks, his soft voice drawing her attention back from her own head. She looks up and sees his fond expression, his relaxed posture. Wonders if he’s in Domspace at all. Probably not.

Then her eyes land on the line of his cock at the front of his pants. 

He’s hard. Not very, but some. Underneath his sweats his dick is chubbed up enough that it creates a slight bulge against the fabric. Mary freezes, staring for too long before she’s able to tear her eyes away. When she does, and she looks up, Bucky’s watching her with an inscrutable expression. Her breath catches and her mind goes absolutely dumb.

Does he want ..? Should she ..?

She looks back down at it, at the relaxed splay of his thighs. She wets her lips and thinks about reaching forward and sliding her hand over it, what it would feel like, if it would twitch, if Bucky would shiver or make a sound. She wants to touch it, and seriously considers doing so, but when she looks up at Bucky again, he doesn’t look like he’s excited, or anticipating her touching him. He looks … resigned. 

“Tired?” he asks kindly. "Do you maybe ... Do you need anything else tonight? From me?"

Mary's lips part, heart leaping at what that might mean ... but then Bucky looks over at Steve with visible yearning in his eyes, and the two of them share one of their silent conversations, brows pinched and expectant. 

Oh. Right. Bucky’s just horny and eager to get Steve into bed, wants to wrap this up. Mary wonders if he really can’t tell that she's not far down like she used to get. Maybe he thinks this is all she needs and he really isn’t going to take Linda’s advice seriously. Mary should be happy about that. After all, it’s what she wanted. Isn’t it?

She balls up the hand that she’d been imagining touching Bucky with and nods. “Yeah,” she says. “Yeah, I’m tired. Think I’m gonna … go get ready for bed.”

She glances over at Steve, but he looks mopey and eager to get out of the room just like his husband does, cementing the notion in Mary’s mind that they don’t want to be with her that way. No doubt they will if push comes to shove, because Linda’s told them Mary needs a sexual dynamic, but it’s not something they’re excited about. Mary knows men: They’re not the sort to sit around and wait for a girl they like to make the first move. And certainly not a man like Bucky, of all people. 

She tries not to be hurt by it, but still gets a little weepy while brushing her teeth, the unintended rejection stinging more when she’s down in the tingly, vulnerable throes of subspace. She spits, rinses, flosses, rinses. Grabs the mouthwash that she hates to use but that Bucky has ordered her to always use after brushing her teeth at night. 

She says goodnight to Steve and Bucky through the safety of her closed bedroom door, and despite her voice being warbly, neither one of them knocks on the door to see what’s up. That drives the point home, and Mary tucks herself into bed with the mindset that she’ll let them know they don’t have to sleep with her just to be nice or to help her or whatever. She’ll just find a way to convince them that she really is fine with going to one of the ProDoms, and that it really is a better arrangement.

Better than a pity fuck, at least.

It’s disappointing to know that Mary prefers the ProDom, that she doesn’t want to make their relationship sexual, but Bucky gets it, and he knows that he shouldn’t be surprised. He’s not exactly an easy person to get along with, after all. He’s prickly as fuck, grumpy, bossy, selfish. And aside from her natural submission, Mary’s personality clashes with his horribly. Steve is essential, but he just isn’t enough to successfully buffer between the two of them—not enough to make her want them that way, at least. 

Bucky can see the profound disappointment in Steve’s eyes that night, as Mary doesn’t react the way they were both hoping, doesn’t take the offerings Bucky puts out.

They have to let it be her choice, of course, having planned it out and discussed it between just the two of them. It's all anybody ever talks about in the D/s community these days: making sure subs are the initiators at key moments like this, not letting domination creep in and become manipulation-so easy to do with how naturally vulnerable and people pleasing submissives are. Gone are the days when Doms like Bucky were encouraged to guide new partners in the "right" direction. That leads to too much trauma, too many subs in situations they don't really want. Mary has to be left to make the choice on her own, it's her right.

But it's still the hardest fucking thing for him to do, to just sit there and wait passively. And it still stings when she looks straight at his erection and declares that she’s ready for bed. Well, if it wasn’t clear before.

Steve looks like a friggin’ kicked puppy, as he stands outside of Mary’s closed bedroom door and bids her goodnight. Bucky nudges him in the direction of their own room and murmurs, “Come on, Sweetheart.” 

In their bedroom, they each get undressed. Steve continues to mope, so Bucky goes up to him and places a hand on his shoulder and rubs. “Hey. Don’t sulk. You’ve still got me.” Steve’s mouth twitches in a small smile and Bucky’s heart flares with fondness for him. “You wanna play a game?” he offers, leaning in and kissing him once on the lips. “Mm?” He looks down pointedly to both of their boners that haven’t completely lagged since tv time ended.

“Okay.” 

Bucky hums and turns, putting his left shoulder out. “Lend a guy a hand?” Steve obliges. He removes the prosthetic arm with practiced motions. Bucky moans quietly at how good it feels to get the heavy weight off. “Fuck.” He rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck each way with a blissed out groan. “Yes.”

“You’ve been wearing it more than usual, lately,” Steve points out, going over to set it on the table at Bucky’s side of the bed. “Why?”

He already knows: Bucky can tell from the way he asks it. He grunts and looks away, refraining from answering. He normally only wears the arm to work and to the gym, skipping it around the house or when he’s just got simple errands to run. There’s a surprising amount he can do just fine without the use of two arms, and he’s been confident about being seen in public without it for a long time now, thanks to Steve and their friends at the V.A. Being self conscious about it again after all these years isn’t something Bucky wants to admit out loud or think about, but Steve isn’t stupid. He can put two and two together. 

“Babe,” he says softly, walking back over to stand behind him. He wraps his arms around Bucky’s waist and noses into his neck. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Bucky inhales deeply. “I know. I’m not.” Steve makes a sound that clearly says he doesn’t believe that. But Bucky doesn’t want to talk about it, so he reaches back with the only arm he has to grab playfully at the side of Steve’s ass. “Go in the bathroom. Get the water going how I like.”

Steve groans and thunks his forehead against the back of Bucky’s neck. “Not that game,” he complains, though there’s no conviction to it. He slinks off towards the bathroom to go do as he’s been told. “I hate that game.”

“Fuck you. You love that game.” 

Steve shoots him the finger from over his shoulder, but something about his naked body and tight little ass being on display strips the gesture of its animosity. He disappears into the bathroom and Bucky walks over to their bedroom dresser to grab a hair tie, still snickering. He sobers when he takes one from the valet tray and realizes that he’ll have to have Steve tie his hair back. That’s one thing he never could figure out how to do one handed. He stands there and looks in the mirror above the dresser, studying the left side of his body in a way that he rarely does anymore. 

He’s gotten so used to it: his life with Steve, whom he knows down to his bones accepts him unconditionally. He’s almost forgotten what it feels like to be self conscious about his body. Bucky hasn’t known how to talk about it, and Mary hasn’t asked. She’s seen him with his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, or in tee shirts at the gym, but that’s all so far. Sometimes he’ll catch her looking, but he’s got no clue what she’s thinking. He considers his reflection, looks at the scars and puckered skin, the implanted base of the arm where his stump used to be. He doesn’t like the uncomfortability of being critical of his body again. In a way, he almost resents Mary for it, for making that feeling come back after all these years. Silly, he knows. 

“Babe?” Steve’s voice calls out from the bathroom. Bucky’s ears register the sound of rushing water. “You coming?” 

Bucky inhales deeply and decides it doesn’t matter anyway. Mary wants a ProDom, not them, so he doesn’t have to stress over what she thinks about any part of his body, let alone the one part he doesn’t have.

“Yeah.” He turns his back to the judgmental mirror and heads towards his very non-judgmental best guy.

“Okay. Stop clenching.”

Steve exhales shakily, but he does obey, body slumping back against the end of the tub as he relaxes his muscles. “Fuck,” he breathes, overwhelmed.

“Hand too, Baby.”

His hand abandons his dick in the bathwater. “Ungh.”

Bucky smiles lazily and rubs the side of his foot against Steve’s hip in praise. “Good boy.”

They’re in the bathtub together, opposite ends, legs tangled. Their combined bulk displaces the water all the way up to above their shoulders, but that’s part of the game: they’re not allowed to splash on the floor, so they can’t jerk off very hard or fast. First one to splash water on the floor is the automatic loser and has to bottom the next time they fuck (Bucky added that little caveat because he’s very good at not splashing, whereas Steve is hopelessly clumsy and overeager ). “How you doing, Sweetheart?” he asks, drinking in the sight of Steve with his lips parted, chest heaving, squirming. He’s pink from temple to tits, flushed from the bathwater and arousal both, and Bucky loves it. “You’re not close already, are you?” he tuts, grinning. “So sensitive.”

“Buck,” Steve croaks, heated eyes dragging over Bucky’s body at the other end of the tub where he’s still gently jerking himself off. “Please.”

Bucky affords himself another toe-curlingly good swipe over the head of his dick before he nods. “Okay. Slow. Just like me”

Steve huffs and wraps his hand back around himself, stroking his dick in slow, measured strokes, just like Bucky said. Bucky’s guts warm and another heady rush of dominance swirls low in his belly at watching Steve do exactly as he says. “You can start workin’ it again, too,” he says.

Steve moans gratefully. “Thank you. Fuck.” His abs start clenching, his body straining again with visible tension as he works the Aneros that’s seated up inside him. Under the water, his knees move in and out in that instinctive motion as he tries to rock it just right. But it’s hard to do it with the water so high, and more than once he catches himself and holds back at the sight of the bathwater sloshing precariously close to the lip of the tub. At one point he gasps and his eyes slam shut, and Bucky figures the toy must’ve shifted to press even more directly against his prostate. 

“Ooh, does that feel good, Stevie?”

Steve peeks his eyes open, glaring across the way at him. “You know it does.”

Bucky does, in fact, know exactly how good it feels—because he’s got another of the exact same toy inside of himself, right now. “I don’t know why you still agree to play this game,” he taunts, grunting from the effort of holding back his own moan as his prostate gets a firm prod from the head of the toy. “You—nngh—you always wind up losing.”

“Yeah, well …” Steve’s throat bobs as he swallows heavily. “Maybe I don’t mind you coming out on top, sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” Bucky scoffs, but he’s breathing heavier than he was thirty minutes ago, his composure slipping the longer he works the toy inside himself and jerks himself off agonizingly slowly underneath the water. In fact, he’s not even sure it even counts as jerking off at this slow a pace.

Edging is something he’d introduced Steve to early on in their relationship, as soon as he’d realized how delightfully sensitive his new boyfriend was. And Steve, the big idiot, had worried Bucky wouldn’t like it, had actually thought of it as a negative! An absurd notion that Bucky promptly disabused him of. Watching his ungodly sexy blond behemoth of a husband whine and squirm and struggle to hold himself in check is one of the fucking hottest things Bucky’s ever seen—and he’s seen a lot. He’d been a bit of a manwhore back in his heyday, racking up the bodies as he fought to find himself as a Dom and accept the body an IED had left him with.

Steve, his overly-sensitive, glorious hunk of a then-boyfriend, had helped him to do both. And it’s times like this where Bucky remembers just how goddamn lucky he is. Having Steve to love and fuck around with feels like the best gift in the world. 

At the other end of the tub, the water sloshes as something he’s done to himself makes Steve’s breath hitch in another helpless moan. He tosses his head back for a moment, eyes clamped shut as his expression crumples beautifully and he whimpers. Bucky’s ass clenches down hard in arousal at the sight, which only makes the toy in his ass rub over his prostate that much better. His cock throbs as his pleasure flares dangerously high. Fuck, he wants to come. 

Licking his lips, he decides it's time to end this. His balls are pulled up too close to his body, taut and full and aching for release. Trying to school his breathing into something resembling nonchalance is a lost cause, and his face feels almost as flushed as Steve’s looks right now. Bucky decides to call it, because even though he’s the automatic favorite to win this game every time, he is capable of losing, if he gets too caught up in ogling Steve’s body and reactions and doesn’t focus enough on playing his cards right. “Okay,” he finally says, smirking when Steve’s head jerks back to attention, his irises visibly flaring in excitement. “Yeah, Baby. It’s time.”

“Fuck.”

“You ready for the home stretch?” He waggles his eyebrows and lets his head rest back against the tub, spreading his legs wider and keeping his eyes on Steve. “Gotta keep up,” he instructs, even though Steve already knows how this goes. When Bucky tightens his hand and speeds up the pace of how fast he’s jerking himself off, Steve copies him. That’s how it is at the end of this—totally-rigged-in-Bucky’s-favor—game. They both jerk off at the pace that Bucky sets, and the first one to splash water on the floor or come is the loser. It’s not very fair, but Bucky never claimed he was a fair guy. He is, in fact, selfish as fuck. 

Lucky for him, Steve’s into that.

“Fuck,” Steve pants from his end of the tub. He slides down lower, keeping more of his body under the water in an attempt to prevent splashing. It’s a futile effort, though, because he’s doomed to lose anyway with the faster pace that Bucky’s set. Already, he’s going lobster red in the face, brow pinched and desperate, knees knocking the sides of the tub as he compulsively works the toy in his ass. 

The arousal in Bucky’s gut coils tighter at the sight. “Watch my hand,” he warns, when he notices Steve slacking off. “Gotta match it, Baby.”

“I am.”

“Tighter,” he says, eyes gleaming. “And stop avoiding the head. I can see you cheatin’ over there, Punk.”

Steve whimpers, and Bucky knows that he really wasn’t going as tight as he is, because Steve’s hand changes its hold and he starts getting the head of his dick with the same intensity that Bucky is. Bucky grins open mouthed, panting. “Atta boy.”

“You should—ugn.” Steve grimaces. “Should get a penalty, for being cut. I should get an extra, nnnh, th-thirty seconds, at least.”

Bucky laughs, because trust Steve to think of a sportsman’s solution to the inequity of their dicks. Steve being uncut means that it takes less intense stimulation for him to come. They both know this, Bucky loves this, and again: he never claimed the game was fair. “No penalty,” he grunts, speeding up his pace even further. Steve’s eyes widen but he matches it. Bucky grits his teeth. He can hold out long enough. Steve’ll blow in seconds at this pace. 

And sure enough, it’s not even twenty seconds later when Steve is crying out, body tensing and muscles straining gorgeously as he seizes up and starts to come. “Agh!” His knees fling out hard and hit the sides of the tub, splashing water over the lip to the floor below. But he hasn’t even noticed, he’s so lost to his orgasm. His asshole is twitching, sucking on the Aneros as the contractions of his body pull the toy up against his prostate again and again, drawing the pleasure out. He shoves down hard in the water and shouts louder, as though he’s getting a second orgasm on top of the first. “Ohnfuck …” 

Bucky groans as he watches it happen: Steve’s gorgeous face and juddering hips, big hand wringing up hard underneath the head the whole way through. The fucking sounds he makes, Jesus wept. It’s leagues better than any porn Bucky’s ever seen. “Fuck, Baby,” he praises. “Yes. Fuck that’s so hot …” 

Steve’s hand keeps working the whole way through, only abandoning his cock once it’s fully spent and softening, the cloudy ribbons of his cum floating away in the bathwater. “Fuck,” he exhales hugely once it’s done, letting his body go lax and slump so far down that only his face is above the waterline.

Bucky grunts and spreads his legs wider, not heeding the splashing rule now that he’s already won. The water splashes precariously as he shoves his hips down and down and down, squeezing the shape of the toy inside so fucking perfectly. Fuck, it feels fucking good working over his spot like that. “Oghnnn,” he pants, grunting and groaning and jerking his cock hard. “Fuck, Baby. You’re so fucking pretty. Fuck. M’gonna cum …” 

Steve gives a sated hum from his end of the tub. Bucky can sense him shifting in the water, and then gasps when he feels the ball of Steve’s foot gently press up on his balls. His eyes fly open and he looks down. “Oh, shit,” he whispers. “Fuck, fuck.”

Steve grins and rubs his foot against him. And Bucky doesn’t have that fetish, but there’s something so fucking perverse about seeing Steve’s toes up against his balls that it turns his brain to mush anyway and pushes him right on over into orgasm. He shoots off beneath the water, stroking and thrusting and moaning—and probably splashing water all over the floor just as badly as Steve ever has.

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[myseungsunglove]

Hiiii I have a favor to ask! I'm on a bit of a drought of finding stuff to read. I've read all of your fics and I absolutely loved them btw! So do you have any recommendations it could be fluff, angst, smut, and comfort! You could recommend regular fics of blogs of people with good fics! I read about all of Stray Kids!! You totally don't have to! Its 110% okay if you don't! Thank you anyways!

-👀 anonnie

Okay, so I did a thing. I spent some time going through my blog and labeling everything I've personally reblogged. If you search the tags "Mia Recommends" & "Mia's Favorites" you'll find a host of fics.

I mostly only read Han, Seungmin, Chan, and Lee Know so that will mostly be my recs.

I also hedge into some Poly Ot8! & other pairings with a reader, and I understand that isn't for everyone. So if it isn't for you, just skip over those.

I will also just straight up give you a list of my absolute favorites. Like changed the way I look at writing, favorites. *smiles* This took me about an hour and a half, so I hope you find something from it!

There are 12 personal recommendations below the cut.

Mia's Favorite Fics

Ditto by @hwajin - Seungmin x Reader, smut, agnst - This one utterly broke my heart. I don't often read angst, but this one just stuck with me even though it hurt my feelings so bad.

No Words by @jl-micasea-fics - Seungmin x Reader, smut, established fwb, fwb to lovers au This one is just beautiful and raw. Mica is probably one of my favorite authors on this platform. So much talent. You'll see a few of their fics here.

Rain by @jl-micasea-fics - Seungmin x Reader, angst, smut - Mica is kind of the queen of angst and hurting your feelings. Just understand that going into this one.

2min x Reader Fic by @rachalixie - Seungmin x Reader x Lee Know, fluff - One of my favorite friendships is 2min, so the idea of being absolutely adored and loved by both of them just melts my heart. I understand a poly fic may not be for everyone so please skip it if its not for you.

In My Dreams by @astraystayyh - Seungmin x Reader, enemies to loves, angst wrapped in fluff - Sahar is another writer that I love almost everything I read by them. This one is really relatable and just wonderful.

Connected by @sky-yuna - Poly ot8! Series - lots and lots of smut, angst, fluff you name it, this series has it. I absolutely adore this series and it's probably one of my favorite ones out there. Each relationship with the boys is so special, and they do a good job of spreading the love, literally and figuratively, between all of the boys and the reader in this series. I understand a poly fic may not be for everyone so please skip it if its not for you.

Back Burner by @astraystayyh - Han x Reader - angst - this one will just hurt your heart and it's so relatable, honestly. I claim to not read a lot of angst, but you can tell by this list that I clearly do. This one will hurt your feelings, I assure you.

ZIP - by @cb97percent -Chan x Reader - smut, fluff, fwb - This one is absolutely beautifully written. I'm a sucker for friends with benefits trope as evident in several of my recs so far. The writing in this one is just, *chefs kiss*

Catfish? - by @seungminheart - Han x Reader - smut, crack, fluff - this one is absolutely fucking hilarious. It's a rockstar! Han fic and it's just, you'll love it. This author recently stole my heart with this fic and a Seungmin one. They are so so so talented. They have a Lee Know one they just put out today that I can't wait to read! They have other pairings as well and I would recommend any and everything they write.

Go ahead and cry - by @hyunsvngs - Seungmin x Reader, smut - this one is part of a series called "Hot Bitch Summer" and the way I was absolutely so weak for this part in particular. It's just all smut all the time in this series. It's only "Poly-esque" fic series. You'd have to read it to really understand what I mean by the esque. - I understand a poly fic may not be for everyone so please skip it if its not for you.

August is a Fever - by @seungminheart - Seungmin x Reader, smut, fluff - This may well be one of my favorite reads I've read in the skz fanfiction world. The friendship between Hyunjin and the reader in this one is fucking hilarious. The dynamic with Seungmin, kind of enemies to lovers esque but isn't. You'll just have to read it to understand. The writing is absolutely immaculate. This writer really has something special.

Photobooth - by @astraystayyh - Seungmin x Reader, fluff - this one is just so precious. It's so sweet you'll melt.

As I wrap this up, I realize how much I absolutely love reading Seungmin x Reader fics. They have a special place in my heart. I was kind of surprised there was more of him on this list than Han. They are both my ults, but I feel like Seungmin has been trying to declare himself the top ult recently.

Hope you find something here you can fall in love with. Be sure to check out my mia recommends tag for more stories that I really enjoyed. There were just too many to put all of them here! Please also respect each writer's rules and regulations when it comes to reading their work and interacting with their blog!

[doctorweebmd]

Helloo! I was wondering what are ur top bkdk fics? You write bkdk so beautifuily, the angst hurts so good‼️ A litany of love and loss and zero-sum game are so beautiful its crazy! I'm tweaking haha I literally cannot stop thinking abt them. All of ur fics r so good in a way thats magical. This might sound weird and kinda alot, im so sorry if it is but I really do hope I remember ur fics for a really long time.

lksajdfl;kasdfj omg don't you THINK i haven't noticed you going through this blog lmao i adore that thank you so much!!! and thank you for reading that hardcore angst you masochist lmao

BUT. thats a super hard question. okay keep in mind that a.) i haven't really kept up with bkdk stuff in >1 year so most of these are older, b.) many of these are, unfortunately, unfinished. it doesn't take away from how amazing these stories are to ME, but i know its a preference for many, so keep that in mind AND c.) every single one of these authors have MANY excellent fics, but these are the ones that have stuck with me. And I'm totally gonna forget some notable people so apologies in advance.

These are in no particular order:

The Space Between by kanae_vr - gorgeous and absolutely devastating work. One of those fics I stayed up all night reading and probably one of the first if not THE first that I commented on. Broke my heart.

In your dreams, nerd! by sapphicflower - Rani's whole portfolio of work is TOP NOTCH (can't recommend the art of falling and love was never easy with you, but since when did we like easy? enough.) but in your dreams, nerd! is still my favorite. The writing has such a magical, dreamy, otherwordly feel to it. Just beautiful.

[KILL GOD] by majjale - majjale is another author that you can read anything they've written and have your mind BLOWN. KILL GOD really stood out to me, though. This is probably THE only villain Deku fic worth reading. The worldbuilding, the reveals, the raw emotion - god, this reads like a novel and I'm simply awed.

To see you alive by overcastjpg - pain. PAIN. Cloddy writes some of the most gut-wrenching angst I've ever had the privilege of reading. And its not just painful interpersonal drama, its also a fascinating and dark plot that makes you feel like you've stepped into a gritty noir novel. Its like stepping into a story where its always cloudy and raining, but in the best way possible.

Undercover by Greyfrey - another author that has a portfolio of top-notch, professional-level bkdk writing. Undercover really holds a special place in my heart, though. The story is absolutely compelling, the character development is handled carefully and elegantly, and it just. It hurts. So, SO good.

Mirror Image by Eleke - this is just a very fun one; so absolutely creative and such an interesting way of imagining BKDK's dynamic in so many different worlds. The structure of the story and the POV changes are also SUPER artistic. Fantastic read.

Bonnie & Klein by surveycorpsjean - i won't belabor the point; this fic, along with everything surveycorpsjean writes, deserves all the hype and MORE. the yearning in it was physically painful and the sex was artistic, emotional, and most importantly, hot.

Doppleganger by waketosanity - another painful and gorgeous read. The pining and self-destruction Katsuki's going through this entire fic is honestly devastating. Its an indirect but powerful character study and, full disclosure, it hurts a lot. But its worth it.

Looking forward to being there by underwickedsky - This author's aura is very foreboding and they tend to write about very dark themes. Like any good mystery or horror, what looks benign on the surface dives into something terrifying. Honestly, this fic has not been updated in 3 years and is only, what, 4 chapters in? But every single one of them is captivating.

i think i found a place for us by dommymommy - sigh. god. i can't even explain it. its gorgeous. it hurts. intimacy is instantly replaced by loss. you ache during the entire story. katsuki's characterization in particular is... he's so skittish, and in denial, and afraid, and lonely. tbh i hope they dont follow me on here because out of every fic on this list and any other list beyond, seeing an update on THIS one would make me drop everything and start reading bkdk again. sorry.

mundane crimes by sifl - last but certainly not least. i dont know how sifl does it, honestly. their work is, in one word, haunting. the tone and cadence and sheer poetry of each and every single one of their works is just - its like they live in a completely different world. i'm obsessed with their style and have re-read this fic too many times to count. should be the AUTHORITY on writing katsuki.

Jeez and there's SO MANY MORE. Like I couldn't just choose one by katyastark, i love ALL their work. and iciclebeanbags and heartsinhay. and there's probably people i can't think of right now. there's SO MANY amazing talented writers we are SO lucky as bkdks

[enden-k]

not to put a damper on your thirst or mood! you can definitely still love moze's design, personality, story, etc. everything - i just want to warn you that his voice actor, chris niosi, is a massive creep and has gotten into serious trouble (both socially and legally(?)) for a lot of very serious things! hoyoverse really dropped the ball with hiring niosi and its like they didn't learn from the tighnari VA incident 😵‍💫. just to let you know! have a nice day!

thats terrible without question, however i should remind ppl that the VAs are NOT the characters and also i (and lots of other ppl) dont play with english voice. im saying this right away before ppl harass others for liking the character moze. the english VA is a piece of shit for sure though and i can only recommend to switch language and also stop!! giving!!! money to hoyo

hoyo is messing up over and over again in such a short time and i dont rlly know whats going through their head at this point. i hope they were not aware and consider a recast like with naris VA bc otherwise it feels rlly contradictory

i dont know what more to say to this bc as someone who was also abused for a decade, this topic is one i tend to avoid bc its sensitive and can trigger an episode. i usually read up when topics like this gets brought up for more info but with this one i have to skip, sorry....... i tried and skimmed a bit by ppl who were hurt/involved and its gross and terrible

i feel for the ppl who were abused by this person and still received no apology or any closure and hope moze will get recasted, specially for the affected ppls sake who also play hsr. the va reveal must have been a shock for sure

[popodoki]

Hey, teacher! Catwin motorcycle au part 9.

still sfw, for now *cackles* x

Around 9:30pm, Edwin knows it's a mistake, to be drinking as much as he is. But the wine is good, a proper vintage, the kind one reserves for special occasions, the armchair is warm and comfortable, and also, the company. Thomas is making him laugh. He's telling some hilarious story, incredibly hard to believe yet endearingly earnest, with lots of arm waving and smothered giggles, as he struggles to recount the time his dorm mate’s cats took off with his clothes, after sneaking into the bathroom while he was showering. 

"And I'm not about to go chasing after them wearing nothing but a smile," Thomas shrugs wildly. "He had his girlfriend over, in the common room, and it was kind of going good for him this time, so I couldn’t exactly add a naked scruff chasing two cats down the hallway to that? So, they dash away, laughing their little heads off if they could, and I have to tiptoe slowly back across the hall to my bedroom, wearing my dirty old socks, clinging to my last shred of dignity." 

"Oh gods." Edwin collapses into a fit of giggles, turning red, as he pictures it in his head.   

"Babe," Thomas sips his wine, leans forward, his face dead serious, "when I tell you that it was the worst timing for his girl to get up off the couch and- " 

"Oh gods!" Edwin waves his hands in front of him, he really doesn't want to hear about that part. He collapses back into his chair, laughing so hard that he snorts through his nose, the sound joined and mixing with Thomas’ own delighted giggles.  

The night continues. It must be after 11 by now.   

Edwin is opening up a bit about London, what it was like to live there. Thomas has never been, though he tells him he hopes to one day visit. Edwin's rambling about the hidden treasures of London, how to avoid the tourist traps, what he’d show and recommend to Thomas, when the latter suddenly bursts out laughing, interrupts him with a heavy hand on his arm. "Ghostie, Edwin, have to stop you there," he smiles, lopsided, completely losing his composure, almost spilling the last of his wine, "you've been speaking the most unintelligible British English for five minutes, and I can't follow a single word!"  

Edwin buries his face in his hands, by the time he's done laughing there are tears running down his face. 

In the corner of his blurred vision, he sees Thomas get up, fetch another bottle of wine.  

The incessant, rhythmic buzzing by his face is quite possibly the most obnoxious noise Edwin has ever encountered in his life. He wants to kill it. Throw it across the room, stomp it out of existence. He manages to gather enough of his wits to simply smack the offending device with one hand, knock it away. He hears a clatter, and then… silence.   

Even the absence of sound seems to hurt. Oh god. My head.   

It feels like his brain has been hollowed out during the night, then shoddily put back together, with duct tape and rocks. As soon as Edwin's fully awake, he can feel the room spinning. Closing his eyes does nothing to alleviate the dizziness, quick on its heels is a fiery hot wave of nausea.   

Blearily opening one eye, trying to focus on his surroundings, he ticks off a mental checklist. It's morning, he's in his bed. In his own house. His shoes are on the floor near the bed. His belt is by his shoes. His jacket hangs on the closet door, his watch is on the nightstand. He's wearing the pants and shirt he wore to the picnic yesterday, and the covers have been kicked off the bed, onto the floor.  Also, he feels like he's been run over by a motorcycle.   

Edwin thinks back on the previous night, realizes with a fair amount of horror, he actually drank enough to black out. There's a rather significant portion of the night that he just can't remember.  Most conspicuously missing, is how exactly he got upstairs, into bed. And where is Thomas? 

Sitting up is a challenge, he tackles it slowly, bit by bit. Once upright, his body protests violently at being disturbed, rushing him to the bathroom. What comes up is mostly liquid. On top of drinking enough to temporarily drown his brain, he recalls that he didn't eat much the previous day either. Not that he laments any real loss at missing out on the church picnic. He does berate himself, being so careless with his drinking, as he fills the sink with cold water, unceremoniously dunks his whole head in it. He must look ridiculous, but it feels so good. It takes away the dull ache of nausea, anyway.   

Staring at himself in the mirror, Edwin sends a base thanks to anyone willing to listen that at least it’s Sunday, and he’s not supposed to be at work already. He’d seriously consider calling out sick, something he’s never done in all the years he’s worked at the school. Drying himself off with a towel, Edwin tries to compose himself. While not an official school day, he, as a teacher, still has papers left to grade, tests to prepare. He dresses slowly, makes his way downstairs. The nausea has mostly subsided, but his head is still pounding, and he feels overwhelmingly dehydrated. If there are any bottles of wine left in his pantry, Edwin resolves to pour them down the sink.  

When he enters the kitchen, he finds Thomas, drinking pitch black coffee, with a stone serious expression. He has an ice pack resting on his head as he reads the paper, blinking as the words obviously don’t register, Edwin figures he looks a fair bit like Edwin feels. When he sees his host entering the room, Thomas fumbles for words a bit, but collects himself, manages a wry grin.  "Overdid it a bit, didn't we?" 

Edwin nods, sits across from him, feeling like he's aged 50 years in one night. "I need water. I need some sort of caffeine. And then I have work to do." 

Thomas immediately takes on the task, expertly throwing two pieces of bread into the toaster, pouring an extra cup of coffee from the freshly brewed pot. He puts it in front of Edwin, returns to the kitchen counter for the now toasted bread and a glass of cold water.   

Edwin takes a sip of the water first, it's so cold he can feel it traveling all the way down his throat, into his stomach. "Thank you, my friend." He sighs in relief, braving a few nibbles of the dry toast, starting in on the coffee. "Forgive me, there is a lot from last night I don't remember." 

"Oh yeah?" Thomas hums, gets up to refill his own mug with more coffee. 

"I haven't lost time like that in ages, not since I was much younger. I honestly can't recall how the night ended, or getting in my bed at all." 

"No worries, I remember all of that. I carried you up the stairs, but you made a valid effort of your own, in your defence. S'a good thing we stayed home instead of going to a bar though, don’t think either of our legs, or any limbs really, would’ve been steady enough for a ride home. That was some good vintage."  

Edwin frowns, rests his head on his arm. "Don't drive drunk ever," he scolds weakly, "I'd be very upset if you were killed in some horrible accident." 

"Nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. I would’ve gotten us a taxi, babe." Thomas chuckles, refreshing Edwin's cup.   

"Did… Did you put me to bed?" Edwin murmurs into his arm, too embarrassed to make eye-contact.  He almost keeps the question to himself, but the curiosity is killing him.  And his history as an affectionate drunk, poses the ever-more embarrassing unspoken question; what exactly had he said last night, if anything? 

Immediately, Edwin can tell that Thomas is watching his words. "Yeah. You were three sheets to the wind, so after I walked you upstairs, I just made sure to put you on your side." He gives a good-natured smile, choosing to lean against at the table, inhaling the scent of the coffee.   

"Not too much trouble, I hope? It's been a long time since I've had that much to drink in one sitting." 

"Nah, Edwin. You were fine."  He says it with a thread of finality, Edwin can't help but feel that it's not the whole story. But he doesn't have the energy, the brain cells, the confidence to figure it out right now. He gulps down the water, munches the toast, sips the last of the coffee. He feels like something resembling a human again, afterwards, he feels like maybe it's possible to finish out the day without further ailments. He shoots a thankful smile at Thomas. 

"Do you have any plans today?"   

"Was thinking of a walk. Get a bit more of a sense of the neighbourhood? It's a nice day, I could use the exercise." Thomas stretches his arms to the ceiling as he talks, and perhaps Edwin’s head isn’t that fully clear yet, because he permits himself a peek at the muscled torso displayed as a result, without a shred of guilt. Maybe it’s the same kind of guilt-less, freeing kind of confidence, that drives Edwin forward. 

"That sounds like a good idea, actually," Edwin retrieves his coat from the front hall closet, "I'll join you, come on. Let’s steady our legs." 

The weather is quite nice, the neighbourhood a calm picturesque backdrop. Edwin ponders it might actually be enjoyable, if they didn’t walk side by side, swinging wildly from awkward, stilted small talk, to complete silence. It feels like torture. Edwin is sure that he somehow utterly embarrassed himself last night, and Thomas is too kind, or worse, too mortified to bring it up. If only he could remember, but it's not coming back to him. There are several times where Edwin finds himself leaning or straight up bumping into Thomas, as his feet struggle to task on auto-pilot, while Edwin’s mind is racing. 

On one such brush of their shoulders, Edwin tilts his head to apologize, when a flash, an image, comes unbidden to his mind; Thomas's face, in quite a close proximity to his own. That happened last night, as well. Thomas looked tired, but amused, and he's saying something. Edwin replays the image in his mind, again, again, like a broken record. The complete image is so close, so within his grasp, yet so far away, intangible.  Again and again, he pores over the memory, certain that it's from last night.  Thomas's face, close by, slightly above his own? That would only make sense if he was leaning over him, considering the man isn’t naturally taller than him. Thomas looking at him, then looking away.  Looking at him, then looking away. Saying something. Saying something with a wry grin, sympathetic eyes.   

This memory can't be from his imagination. It's from last night, and his damn brain won't give up the clues.   

He's interrupted by the present. "Edwin, are you okay?" He hums in reply, already knowing the other won’t be convinced. "Come on Ghostie, we’re going home.” A strong arm wraps around his waist, warm hand dipping lower, steadying pressure on his hip. “I think a nice nap on the couch might make you feel better."   

Edwin smiles. Thomas is a good, caring man. 

Make you feel better. 

Feel better. 

When you feel better. 

Maybe when you feel better- 

Listen, when you feel better- 

You're not yourself, but when you're feeling better- 

"Listen Ghostie, babe," a gentle, reassuring voice, "you're not yourself right now. But, maybe, when you're feeling better, you could ask me again?" 

Edwin feels his face go white, he’s grateful for the arm around him, as he suddenly feels dizzy.   

Oh. Oh no. Oh Hells. 

[ljjsims]

Greek Goddess Legacy Challenge: Generation #3 Hera: Complete

I present you, the Queen herself: Hera!

In your childhood you were constantly pestered by the press, with all the rumors surrounding your parents. And it is not nice, to be hated so much. They don't care you are legitimate, they just care that your mother is an adulteress. You decide there and then you will never be hated by the public again. You will be loved. They will know you for what you can do, and not for what your mother did. You will have the power to shut the press down. You will be famous and rich. When famous actor Zeus proposes you two get married, you accept. You will be the perfect picture for the press. Or so you thought. Turns out Zeus has the same habits your mother had, constantly sharing the bed with others. The press is shaming you once again, this time for being unable to keep your husband faithful. And you hate yourself too. You had promised yourself not to get attached like your dad did. But deep down you are , having grown to love him with the years. That hurt turns to cold anger over the years. He knows divorce is not an option for you, for you will be ruined.

Little bit explanation with the sheets: - First sheet is for describing your current generation, with the challenges you need to do each life-stage. Also, because I love the myths, a bit of mythological background. May it inspire you :) - Second sheet is the preparation sheet for this generation, with important characters for your story. It is technically optional, but I love seeing sims with a backstory in my world, so I would highly recommend it. - Third sheet is for your gens children. They all have their own little challenges if your interested in those. I try to make all of them a bit different from each other, so it doesn’t get boring. Your heir is also on this sheet, but I’ve put their challenges on their own sheets. Stay tuned for those ;) - Fourth sheet is completely optional. If you want sims with names from the myths and love making sims to see them in your world, this is for you! All with a little mythological background ofc, you know me.

Next Generation is Demeter! Previous Generation was Aphrodite First Generation is Gaia

The Greek Goddesses Challenge by LJJ-Sims is a challenge based on the ancient mythical creatures and stories from Greece. I fell in love with Greek mythology in high school and have not let that love go since. In this challenge you will follow 10 deities in their journey through life. Every goddess has a different take on and goal in life. Special about this challenge?  All your kids have little challenges of their own, not only your heir. These challenges are optional, so if you feel like these are too much or just too restricting for you: by all means let them go. I also have sheets for characters that you can make before you start each generation. This gives your challenge a lot more personality and makes it frankly easier and more fun!

A little disclaimer: because I made these gods and goddesses into a legacy challenge, the relationships in the myths don’t exactly match the relationship in this challenge. There is a lot of keep it in the family in mythology, to put it lightly. And apart from the fact that you can’t do that in the Sims, I don’t really like that part. So I didn’t include it, thus the inconsistency. An example: Ares is now Hera’s stepfather instead of her son, which she conceived with her brother  and husband Zeus. This inconsistency can also be found in the stories. It’s just based on and not copied exactly, as Sims live lives that are a lot shorter than those of immortal gods. And it takes a way from the creativity if we just copy the myths. Even if we wanted to do that, it’s quite hard, as every myths has its fair share of variations and some are just completely different stories.

I use the MCCC-mod to alter the length of life states. You can find the days-years ratio here: the boring stuff.

[jayteacups]

✍️ Fic authors self rec!

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to other writers you know. Let's spread some self-love! 💛

Thank you Val @youre-ackermine and Kat @humanitys-strongest-bamf for sending these! (I’m only reccing 5 today, sorry to disappoint you Kat 😂) Here's my five favourite pieces of work! Tbh I haven't been writing as much lately so this list probably won't have anything new to anyone, but hey.

It's A Wrap! (Tumblr | AO3)

A one-shot featuring Actor Levi and Makeup Artist Reader, friends to lovers and mutual pining 👀

I've written multiple Actor AU pieces (I love reimagining the AOT characters as actors, 10/10 would recommend as a way to cope with the pain of canon 😂😭), but this is in its own separate universe and I'm planning on writing a couple more fics set in this specific universe!

I had so much fun writing it (I hope it showed haha), and that's why it's on this list as one of my favourites!

The Absence of Warmth (Tumblr | AO3)

Gen one-shot centred around the No Regrets trio (with Levifar crumbs because I love them)

I also had a lot of fun exploring the trio's dynamic here, I'd like to go more in depth again with these three someday

My most underrated fic for sure haha

My piece for Levi Week 2023 - Day 3 (Tumblr | AO3)

All the fluff and softness you could ever want. Will never stop writing sweet and soft fics for Levi because he deserves it 😌😌

This was partially based on a dream I had, actually, which makes this more personal, and therefore, one of my favourites.

Me remembering what I dream about is a very very rare occurrence, and rarely do those dreams include fictional characters, funnily enough 😂 so it was an extra special occasion when I woke up and actually remembered the dream I had of walking on a beach with a blushy Levi whilst the sun was setting and it was all sickeningly cutesy and romantic. I wrote it down, fully intending on writing it, and never got around to it, until I saw the prompt for Levi Week Day 3, and was like... hang on, this could work 👀

Gentle Touches (Tumblr | AO3)

Levi experiencing affection for the first time is a trope I can't get enough of, and it seems the two anons who sent me the request are the same hehehe

Fluff and softness, emotional hurt/comfort towards the end! Also this was a fic that made me realise how touch starved I myself am 🥲 I've been told that this made people quite emotional too, which is reassuring, as I was aiming for that! So yeah I'm quite proud of this one ☺️

At Ease (Tumblr | AO3)

Definitely one of my more creative premises! I genuinely don't remember how I came up with this though, but yes this role-reversal AU was very fun to write and I'm so pleased with the outcome :3

Some emotional hurt/comfort, pining, all round softness (are you beginning to see a trend here)

This was really fun to look back on my fics and pick out favourites! Will be sending asks to people tomorrow because I'm quite sleepy rn and will be heading off to bed now. Hope everyone has a lovely day/night!

[ennard-is-near]

...got any recs for your answer to 17(underutilized fanfic tropes- ur answer was unhinged Michael & time travel) i have found myself with the desperate need to read these fics

Sure! First, here’s a list of the ones I’m about the explain with just a short summary if you’d prefer to go in to them without any spoilers. I didn’t go too in-depth for any of my explanations, but if you’d rather just stick to the one sentence summaries, here they are:

“Michael is Missing” by Starwrighter- Michael wakes up after the FNaF 6 fire and immediately runs away from home (Unfinished)

“Brother of Mine” by GardenOfManEatingPlants- Elizabeth notices that Michael is being weird, and their father is dead (Finished-Published as 3 short one shots instead of one long thing)

“His Empire of Dirt” by pearlandpine- Michael is sent to William’s childhood so he can try and stop the problem at its source. (Finished)

“The Zion Curtain” by Ekat - Michael and Henry BOTH go back to the past and are determined to stop William in their own special way. (Finished)

“Call Them Brothers” by OmnipotentToast- Michael is stuck in a Groundhog Day style timeloop the day of The Bite of ‘83 and trying really hard not to let anything go wrong. (Unfinished)

“Michael is Missing” by Starwrighter:

This is the one where he just leaves without packing or anything. Bro just walks out of Hurricane at like seven years old. It’s split between him walking around and trying to function as a stray child just out and about, and people looking for him. Also there’s a sprinkle of a trait I don’t see enough in depictions of Michael where, and I mean this in the kindest was possible, he’s not very smart. But I also sort of like the way where he’s an unreliable narrator sometimes. Ngl sometimes I can’t tell how much of it is just the author not doing a very good job keeping things straight, but sometimes moments have to be intentional and they’re really funky (/pos).

This one isn’t for you if you don’t want to read about a pretty young kid (even if it is just Michael lol) running away, sleeping outside and hurting himself accidentally kind of a lot. There’s also some stuff from the other Afton’s POV so if you aren’t in the mood to read people sad bc a kid went missing, that’s in here too. Also this author claims to be re-writing this, but I don’t know if they’re ever going to come back, so that’s something to be aware of.

“Brother of Mine” by GardenOfManEatingPlants

This is the other one I mentioned in my answer to the ask. It’s got two things, Obvious Michael time-travel but it’s not from his perspective (It’s from a split perspective, basically everyone has a chapter except for him) and also Michael immediately shoots William the second he realizes he’s in the past. The title is actually from the first part of the series, but each part is just one chapter. I think it’s a pretty neat idea and well executed. Poor Henry lol.

CWs are pretty light for this one. There’s guns and murder, and a framed-suicide but all of it is implied.

(I’m going to be so real with you, I lost my mind trying to find this one. I found one with a very similar summary and just assumed that it was this one, and wrote a whole thing thinking it was actually this one and that would have been the end of it if my list didn’t have to be a prime number and when searching for one more I found this original one. The other one was called “A strange passage of change” in case you want to see what it’s about, I didn’t finish it so I’m not formally recommending it, just letting you know.)

“His Empire of Dirt” by pearlandpine

You’ve probably heard this one recommended at some point but it ruined my life so I’m recommending it too. In this one, Michael is sent back in time to talk to child William Afton, but then he also hangs out with and befriends college-age William, both in an attempt to make things better before he even has the chance to to become the guy capable of murder (a difficult task). NGL this one goes off the rails a little bit and there’s some universe hopping and really funky time-travel stuff where he does it multiple times, but if you can look past that (and the imo kind of silly way he actually does the time traveling) then it’s a really cool take on William, Henry, Mrs. Afton and Mrs. Emily (Named Clara and Isabella in the fic) and Michael. That’s all I have to say, I know I did a bad job hyping it but genuinely it’s a really good time.

There’s a pretty extensive list of CWs for the fic, but the main ones are all centered around every character having horrible mental health. Trauma and guilt and just good ol’ mental illness (which is technically unspecified for a while but I don’t feel bad telling you that it’s diagnosed as BPD). Also, this one is really long and if you’re not looking for a 69-part (seriously) epic then you probably won’t enjoy this absolute novel of a fic.

(Also, this author in particular has some other AUs that I really enjoyed but there is a fully established multiverse going on in here. “His Empire of Dirt” is mostly [except for one chapter] self-contained but there’s other works that get wayyyyy more in to it. I honestly won’t say too much more because it’s easier for you to just go on a journey of your own through this author’s AUs that weave together with this one. If a FNaF multiverse sounds intriguing to you, definitely go check them out!)

“The Zion Curtain” by Ekat

No idea why it’s called that. But this one is silly and fun. I like that Michael and Henry are together on this one, it’s fun when they team up. Michael is having so much fun just pissing off William and Henry is actually the one taking the situation more seriously most of the time. But they’re both fun and they’ve got a silly dynamic. Not a whole lot else for me to say about this one without crazy spoilers, it’s a fun time. Short/Medium length (~15,000 words) and complete, so that’s always nice

There’s a fair bit of drinking and a fair bit of William Afton being not a great dad. Also murder.

“Call Them Brothers” by OmnipotentToast

This one is a little different but I’m stretched a little thin on “Unconventional Time Travel Fix-It’s” so I’ll count a time-loop as one. It’s exactly what it sounds like. Michael wakes up the day after The Bite of ‘83 and has to do the whole day over again until nobody gets hurt or dies or anything but it’s sort of impossible. This one is unfinished, but I think there’s still hope of this one being finished, it’s been updated since I first read it so that’s a good sign. This is also the shortest one, at only a planned five chapters with four being done.

CWs mostly just revolve around The Bite of ‘83 for this one. Blood, death, mutilation and hospitalization. There’s some other stuff on a chapter by chapter basis but the author does a good job putting specific warnings for each chapter.