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oftenderweapons · 3 years

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The Early Bird – Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x reader (nicknamed Candy)

Wordcount: 2.3k

Genre: smut, pretty much pwp, drabble, established relationship

Rating: 18+

Hello hummingbirds! I just came in quickly to type in this very very brief Jungkook smutty drabble because after today’s pics well... Me and my mates (shoutout to @nervous-moon) were a bit all over the place. Not much plot. Just filth.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: very smutty Jk. Filthy as hell. Lots of swearing. Dirty talking. Slight corruption kink. Post-workout testosterone galore. Degradation kink; dommy JK, very patronising. Lots of switching positions. Multiple orgasms. Unprotected sex (get tested before going bare with your partner. Pretty please). Very lowkey spanking. Lots of tattoo kinks. He touches between her legs without her consent (Candy is sleeping), but she *does* give him consent as soon as she wakes up. I understand some people could be triggered by this and I am sorry if this makes you uncomfortable.

In case you need it, here is my masterlist.

Enjoy💜✨

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Jeongguk exited his home gym and headed for the kitchen to grab a fresh bottle of water. Uncapping it quickly, he took a large mouthful, draining the bottle with a series of loud gulps.

His early morning work out routine had several perks: the great peace of mind which helped him start a new day, the sense of focus that made his nerve endings jolt to life before he started his daily routine, and the pleasing idea of hitting the shower detoxifyed, after sweating sleep and the remnants of the previous day off himself.

It felt right to start the day with exercise.

It felt a bit less right to wake up an hour earlier and abandon you in his bed, warm and cosy and so soft, smelling of his fabric softener and that sweet lotion that he liked so much.

He took off his shirt on the way to the bedroom, dropping it off in the basket in the laundry room. Shirtless and sweaty, he reached the bedroom door, his mind already going places as his hand rubbed at his abs, climbing up to his chest.

There you were, innocent in your sleeping form, curled up in a ball in the middle of the bed, the white sheets exposing your legs and your chest.

You looked so pretty. So small. So pure and unprotected. You looked like a delicate lamb, napping in a soft cloud of perfect peacefulness. It looked like even in your sleep you were offering yourself to him.

He felt ravenous. Predatorial.

He undressed quickly, feeling only slightly guilty as he stroked himself a couple times, his hand meeting his shaft already half hard, blood pressure spiking as he felt his own hand on his flesh.

But it wouldn’t do. Because nothing could compare to the velvet of your cunt, the sweet, sticky wetness of your arousal coating your folds, like honey waiting to be tasted, licked, violated. You were there, laying gently, and he was at the feet of the bed, ready to pounce on you, already imagining the sweet little coos you would emit while waking up, his cock spearing you, your mouth parting in an ‘o’ as realisation hit you.

Slowly and clumsily he climbed on the bed, crawling towards you on three limbs as one hand was still busy on his length.

He hovered above you, bending at his elbow to lean his head against your breast, kissing any part of your chest that was uncovered by your arm, curled up against your front.

Looking at your face, he gently moved his hand away from his sex, sliding it under the covers and brushing it against the curve of your bottom, sliding his middle finger between your folds, moaning at the wetness.

“Sweetie.” He whispered against your ear. “Wake up, Candy.” He murmured with a soft voice. “I need my sweet girl.” He teased, his finger searching for your clit.

Your body finally reacted, your eyelids fluttering open. “Gguk.” You whined, still sleepy.

“Hello, sweet thing.” He said, smiling happily.

You took in his damp hair, his lack of a shirt. “You back from the gym?” You asked, frowning as you yawned.

“Yes, Candy.” He cooed, nuzzling his hair against your bosom as soon as you offered your chest to him.

“And why is your hand between my legs?”

“Because I need my sweet girlfriend’s sweet pussy.” He growled, his mouth outright filthy in a way that normally wasn’t unless he felt like totally wrecking you.

Grabbing his wrist, you removed his hand, turning on your back and trying to wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck. “Just use me.” You murmured, closing your eyes and kissing his bicep flexed beside our head, your mouth landing distractedly on one of his tattoos.

“Don’t worry, I’ll think about it for you, baby.” With one arm he held his weight off you, while with the other, he untangled the bedsheets from your form, tugging them off and exposing your body in all of its perfect nakedness. Next his arm slithered under your back, lifting you off the mattress and helping you up as he rose on his knees, kneeling on the bed.

Slowly, he made his way to the edge of the mattress, placing his ass down and unfolding his legs, letting his feet rest against the floor. He had seen this position on a video while he was away on tour but somehow it had slipped away, coming back to him earlier as he lifted some weights in the gym.

You simpy laid your head on the crook of his neck, kissing his skin and enjoying the salty feel of his sweat on your lips. Your legs loosened around his waist as he settled in this new position.

“I need you to listen carefully, Candy.” He growled at your ear. “I’m gonna do you rough, baby, but I know you’ve just woken up.”

You nodded distractedly beneath his ear, snuggling him.

“I’ll be careful first, but next I need you to hold tight.” He kissed your temple and caressed your spine. “I’ll take care of you.” He promised. “I’ll take care of everything.” He murmured against your ear. “I need to slide in, ____.” He explained, gripping his shaft and rubbing it against your folds.

“Do it.” You said sleepily, whimpering as he pushed the tip in, groaning.

“Feels good?” He asked, giving a delicate thrust in, his other hand against the small of your back, pushing you towards him as he slid in.

“Very.” You murmured, letting your open mouth rest against his neck, your tongue slipping out and curling against his skin, tasting his sweat, searching for the little mole that always drove him crazy under the tip of your tongue. He was addictive.

“It was made for you, Candy.” He groaned with a chuckle. “It was made to make you whimper and moan like a little slut.” He sank deep into you, bottoming out.

You simply exhaled at his neck. If he was already degrading you in that cocky, teasing way of his, then he was really needy. Good thing you were craving him too.

His arms snaked under your legs, the crook of his elbows slotting against the bend of your knees while his hands settled on the small of your back, holding you as his biceps flexed and lifted you, making you slide off his cock.

“Oh god.” You murmured at his neck, biting his skin to keep yourself from being too loud.

“That good?” He asked. “Wait till I slam you down again.” He said, growling, his voice strained as he slowly, made you twirl on him, only the tip inside, rubbing against the tight rim of muscles at your entrance before he let you slide on him again, your hands finding the long locks of his hair at his nape and tugging them desperately as he reached the bottom of your cunt, flexing his strong thighs and glutes to give a few small thrusts before lifting you up again, this time keeping you midair as he bent his head, licking the shell of your ear.

“You’re being too quiet. Need it faster? Harder?” He slid you down gently, using his hands to press your hips forward, against his, until he could feel every square inch of your inner muscles fighting between swallowing him in and pushing him out. “Did you get used to hard and fast?” He asked, sliding you up slowly again and grunting in effort as he bit your earlobe. “Or maybe you need me to fuck you like my bitch.” He slammed you down. Hard.

You let your mouth hang open in a loud cry, your lungs empty.

“That way, uh? Dirty pretty whore you are. Just for me.” He cried out, angling your body away from his, your head lifting from his shoulder and trying to stay upright as you looked into his dark pupils, your stare a bit lost and vacant as he started lifting you up and down like you weighted nothing, looking at you as your eyes crossed, mouth open, a series of short gasps making your lips part in smaller or larger ‘o’s.

He was beautiful, almost painfully so. His brow was furrowed, his lower lip tucked between his teeth before it slid out, his jaw dropping as you squeezed his with your kegels and started helping him, riding his cock with small thrusts of your pelvis, as far as his arms allowed you in that caged position. “Need to ride my cock?” He asked with an arrogant smirk, his eyes rolling closed as you squeezed him particularly tight.

“Yes.” You replied simply.

“But I need to see your silly face as I fuck you stupid, just like this.” He objected, slowing down for a few thrusts, focusing on hitting your sweet spot. The spongy head of his cock rubbed against your G-spot repeatedly, making you call his name, stuttering it a couple times as your breath caught in your throat. “Like that.” You called, unwrapping an arm from his neck and bringing it between your legs, trying desperately to conjure your first high.

“Come on. Give me that cockhungry little pout. Let me see your filthy mouth open wide for me.” He said, leaning down to suck your nipple into his mouth, pumping it a couple times with the tight sucking of his cheeks before releasing it. “I want your gorgeous tits blushing while you cum on my cock.” He growled against your other breast, taking the other nipple in his mouth before he started sliding you up and down his length like you were nothing but a fleshlight, using you for his pleasure.

“Gguk. I—” Next, an inarticulate ramble left your lips, your body arching away from him with the perfect angle that trapped your clit between your expert fingers and the divine fullness of Jeongguk’s cock rubbing the inner nerve endings from inside.

Your body didn’t stop shaking even as he started leaning down, his arms unhooking from below your legs and simply coming up to place his hands on your waist.

“I’m not done with you, my sweet fuckdoll.” He looked you in the eye as his tattoed hand slapped your ass with a dry cracking sound. “Your velvet cunt hasn’t taken my cum yet.” And just like that, he started helping you ride him, the only thing saving you from overstimulation the lack of attention on your clit.

“Gguk. Please.” You begged, not even sure for what.

“What is it,” he grunted, both his hands grabbing your ass and helping it up before his palms slid up to your sides, grabbing you and slamming you down.

“Need you on top.” You whined, trying to sweeten him.

He smirked. “Lazy pillow princess, ain’t you?” He slapped your ass again, the stinging feeling making your lips part and your eyes water slightly.

It felt all too good. “You do it better than me.” You praised him, definitely knowing how to get what you want.

He nodded, eyebrows lifting. “I do.” He said, holding your front close to his chest and making you roll on your back, his body inviting you to slide forward, toward the middle of the bed, so that his legs could find purchase on the mattress and he could hammer into you just the way you like it.

Once his body was perched on top of you, he helped one of your legs over his shoulder. “Hold on tight, love.” He teased before he slammed into you in one violent stroke.

Your eyes shot open, a helpless cry tearing your lips open as you looked at him, tears rimming your eyelids.

“Oh, what’s that?” He asked with a bastard’s grin on his face. “Is it so good that I’m gonna make you cry?” He slid out slowly, all the way to the tip, before his cock split you open again. “Go on and cry for it.” He sneered, his whole body getting lost into a hard and fast hammering inside you.

“Gguk, dammit, please. I wanna cum.” You cried out, your hand sliding between your legs.

He slowed down only to slap away your filthy fingers. “Gonna cum for this cock alone.” He said, angling his hips perfectly in that way that always drove you crazy. “Like the good slut you are for me.” He bent forward to your chest, biting the upper curve of your breast. “Make me feel your velvet cunt milk me dry.” He groaned, desperate. “I know you can do it, ____. You’re my little cockfairy.” He teased, so lost in the tightness and warmth of you that his tongue got that loose and reckless.

You simply started meeting his thrusts, your brow furrowing, while you looked at the muscles of his shoulders flex, his biceps tightening and relaxing with the effort, and the beatiful ink covering his upper arm, so alive with the movements.

He moved your other leg over his shoulder, sinking so deep inside you that your body snapped before you could even understand the fullness you were experimenting.

Your ears filled with a shrill screech, his face going from a series of tight lines — creased forehead, scrunched nose and wrinkled eyes — to relaxed planes, with his mouth opened wide, his lips so soft and temptingly red, his eyelids slowly fluttering close.

“Your pussy is a whole damn miracle.” He muttered against your soft breasts pillowing his head. “I wanna die inside it and go to pussy heaven.”

You tried to laugh as gently as possible while he rested on top of you, his cock still burrowed deep inside you. “I love you, silly bun.” You said, still a bit breathless.

“I’m sorry for the nasty words. You know I love you too.” He said, mouthing at your soft curves and sucking a bruise there.

“Cockfairy, uh?” You said, teasingly.

He giggled. “Shut up.”

“Never.” You replied. combing his hair out of his face.

He lifted his head with a raised eyebrow. “Then maybe I should feed you my cock and shut you up.”

Round two? Already? You were feeling spoiled. “Maybe you should.”

He grinned and slid out of you, slowly climbing up your body. “Open up, pretty doll.”

#jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfiction #bts smut #bts blog #bts fic #bts fanfiction

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fallenlightsif · 3 years

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I'm sorry, I'm such a simp for the assassin 💍😩 "can I kiss you?" if you may for Ilaria please. 🤍 Congrats on the demo drop, enjoyed it 💖

“Can I kiss you?” for Ilaria.

Your skin is sticky from sweat, the scratchy tavern sheets rubbing against your skin from where you lay tangled beside Ilaria.

Her hair is tangled around her like a halo, tickling your nose when you turned to look at her.

She already has her eyes on you and when she sees your head turn, her lips twitch upward and her nose scrunches just slightly. The crinkle catches at the scar on her nose that trails up into her eyebrow, long faded and never forgotten.

You smile back slightly but your heart aches in your chest because that’s not what this is. This isn’t a relationship, isn’t something permanent, isn’t love.

It isn’t love. For her, you know it’s true. For you, though-

You cut that line of thinking off before you can finish. There’s no use causing yourself more pain.

There’s a hand brushing your cheek, drawing you from your thoughts. You startle, realizing it’s Ilaria’s.

“Are you alright?” She asks softly.

“I should be asking you that.” You laugh slightly, “You’re the one who killed-“

“Killing is not new to me.” She says stiffly.

No, but you wonder when was the last time she’d done it to protect someone instead of a contract.

“You don’t enjoy it.” You respond, “You never have.”

“It’s a job. A means to an end.”

“Oh, is that why I’m still breathing?” You quip.

She rolls over on top of you, her knees planted on either side of your hips before you even register that she’s moved. Her smile has become predatory, and you don’t hold back the shiver.

“You’re different.”

She doesn’t seem to realize she’s spoken out loud as her face softens and her thumb reaches up to trace your bottom lip. Your breath catches in your chest.

This isn’t routine. This isn’t a messy rendezvous in a seedy tavern. This is-

You want-

“Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes widen and you panic, thinking for a moment you’d been the one to ask. You hadn’t.

“Hmm?” Ilaria leans closer, her hair a curtain around her, “If you don’t want that, it’s okay.”

You don’t respond except for leaning up to close the distance between you. Her lips aren’t soft, they’re rough and chapped, but you gasp as her hands rest on your shoulders to reel you in closer.

Those hands had been dagger deep in someone’s chest for you yesterday. It shouldn’t elicit the reaction it does, knowing she’d go so far to protect you, but your heart still flutters in your chest.

“Fuck.” She exhales roughly as you part, “We can do that again, right?”

“Right.”

She smiles and you realize maybe you’re not the only one falling.

#Fallen Lights #Ilaria Thayer #short story

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luulapants · 3 years

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Teen Wolf and Perceptions of Character Age

There is a certain discussion that I find myself having (in different variations) over and over again with other Teen Wolf fans: how the age of the actors, compared to the age of the characters, affected the way we perceive and empathize with those characters. Studios have good reasons for not using actual underage kids in their shows - work hour restrictions, school arrangements, limits on racy/sexy scenes - but using adults in a show depicting younger teenagers drastically changes how we interpret their stories.

It’s easy to brush off with some of them, to think, “Oh, well it was a 19-year-old playing a 16-year-old. Not that big a difference.” But I’m going to challenge that notion with a few examples:

Erica Reyes:

Gage Golightly was about 19 when she played 15-year-old Erica. Erica was unpopular, struggled with epilepsy and medication side-effects. She was offered the bite, given the opportunity to make the life-altering decision to become a werewolf. She had no support in making that choice, and the consequences were fatal.

Remember how bad you felt for Erica when she and Boyd were being shot full of arrows, begging Allison to stop hurting them? Well, now imagine that scene with Gage Golightly as she actually looked at age 15-16:

Look at that picture. That is a child. Probably a child that thinks she’s an adult (I know I fucking thought so at that age) but a child nonetheless. Imagine that face being offered the bite. Trying to kiss Derek. Having the shit beat out of her as “training.” Being tortured by Gerard. Being killed by Kali.

Isaac Lahey:

Daniel Sharman was 25 when he played Isaac, who was 15-16 in S2.

Again, we had some really harrowing, emotionally difficult scenes with him. His father abused him. He was offered the bite. Derek beat him as part of their “training.” Chris sent him, alone, into an arms deal with the Japanese mafia. His girlfriend was murdered. Now, I couldn’t even find a picture of Daniel at 15 or 16, but here he is at 17:

How does picturing that face change Isaac’s scenes? His whole story arc?

Scott McCall:

This is a big one for me. Tyler Posey was only 20 years old when he played 16-year-old Scott, but the difference still made a stark contrast in the audience’s expectation of him as the hero of the show. I constantly see people wondering why he didn’t make better decisions, why his priorities weren’t right or why he reacted poorly in dire circumstances.

This is the (admittedly youthful) face that we see going through all of Scott’s S1 challenges. He gets attacked by a monster, turned into a monster himself, has his life threatened by multiple adults, is put into multiple deadly situations within the span of a few months, and is thrust into a position of leadership as the protector and savior of Beacon Hills.

Here is Tyler Posey at 15 (couldn’t find a great 16 pic):

I’ll admit that he was one of the more youthful looking actors in the early seasons. But by season 6, where he is supposed to be 18 (still younger than S1 Posey) but Tyler Posey was 26? When Scott was leading an army and clawing his own eyes out?

What is my point?

My point is NOT that we need to re-interpret the entire story in the context of them being children. Because, clearly, the writers didn’t treat them like real children either. And that’s part of the problem. TV shows present us with teenage characters that often look, act, and feel like adults. When it’s convenient for the plot, of course. We get glimpses of immaturity when that’s convenient, too.

Having older actors gives writers permission, in a way, to write about children in situations that we, in reality, would never want to see a child in. Who would be able to stomach watching a 16-year-old Daniel Sharman being beaten? Or 15-year-old Gage Golightly being shot full of arrows? The show suddenly goes from exciting and suspenseful to outright horrifying.

Maturity-wise, how different did 18-year-old Lydia Martin feel from 24-year-old Jordan Parrish? Not very. So when you see part of fandom freaking out that it was an inappropriate and predatory relationship and another part of fandom like “Are you joking? No, it just... wasn’t,” it’s not necessarily because that second part of fandom would actually see that sort of relationship in real life and think it’s 100% okay. It’s because Lydia Martin wasn’t portrayed as an 18-year-old physically, emotionally, or intellectually. Holland Roden was 30 years old by season 5. They just put her in a high school.

Similarly, there are people who think Sterek is an inappropriate ship. And I agree that it would be VERY creepy for these two to date:

But that’s not what we saw. Dylan O’Brien was 20. Tyler Hoechlin was 23.

Some people have very clear mental pictures of what teenagers look and act like. When watching shows like this, they will project age-appropriate thoughts and expectations onto those characters. Others don’t have that clear picture. When you are that age, you don’t think of yourself as being young, and if you’re not around people that age afterward, you probably won’t develop a clear sense of what a 16-year-old is or is not. For those people, they’ll take these depictions at face value: adult-like people walking around a high school. It produces two very different watching experiences.

So when one person says Derek is a horrible monster for abusing children in Season 2 and another says that he was just training his army to prepare them for the real danger... that’s what that is. It’s not that one is right and the other is wrong. The first person was watching an adult beat children. The second person was watching a 24-year-old, pretending to be 20-mumblety-something or whatever the fuck Derek was, giving tough-love training to three people who, by function of appearance and how they were written, were his age and older.

(Side note: Derek was actually playing someone his own age, but only retroactively. Originally, his character was meant to be “a few years older” than Scott and Stiles but that was retconned due to the Kate Argent plotline.)

Oh and here’s Shelley Hennig at 17 vs 27 and playing 17:

Here are some who I couldn’t find pictures of at younger ages, but whose age gaps from their characters are significant:

Sinqua Walls was 26 when he played Boyd, about a decade too old. There’s a whole mess of complicated implications with perceptions of black boys being perceived as “looking older” in that casting.

Crystal Reed was also 26 when she played 17-year-old Allison Argent, and was 29 by the time she left the show. Allison was still 17.

Keahu Kahuanui was 25 when he played Danny, who was 15-17.

Arden Cho was 29 when she started playing 16-year-old Kira.

Colton Haynes was 23 while playing Jackson, who was 16 or 17.

It is interesting that, starting in Season 4, they began hiring actors and actresses a little bit closer to their characters’ ages. Someone else write a meta on that, plz.

#teen wolf #teen wolf meta #erica reyes #isaac lahey #scott mccall #age gap ships #tv writing

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woahitslucyylu · 3 years

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NSFW Alphabet - Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens

Author’s Notes: A few days late, but here it is. I write my alphabets as if I am talking to my frands (which I am), so enjoy it, loves!

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A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Don’t expect much if it’s casual - you knew what it was when he was two fingers deep in the Uber. He will be polite, cordial, and a decent host, but don’t expect to lay up. He will absolutely ask you for your number, because he loves options, and is generous to his friends - passing along recommendations of girls worth remembering, buttttttttt, frand, if he loves you…

You. Are. A. Motherfucking. Princess.

He will shower you with cum and cuddles and then leave you to soak in the jacuzzi tub while he rubs your shoulders. He’s a Daddy, so he’s going to take care of you in all aspects after an intense session.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Erik’s favorite body part is his face. His smirk is predatory. A glinting gold-fanged smile leaves a lasting impression.

On his partner, he loves thick - here, there, and everywhere. Big boobs, fat ass, thick thighs - love, love, love; whether it is one or all. Erik is a hunk - muscles for days, and he will easily handle allllll you have to offer.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum)

Anywhere you let him?

He’s a freak, so it’s been all over your body. His favorites though are in you and your face. He is really into ownership and dominance, and when he has you in the most vulnerable positions, that’s when he gets off the most.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He lost his virginity late - 17, a week before his senior year of high school started. A girl three blocks down from the corner store in his hood. She stayed with her grandma and he had to sneak in through the window. He didn’t start fucking until college and well, those scars are from killing pussies too. Meme

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s for the streets, unless you’re the real deal. Erik is incredibly loyal, because he expects it from you - a true ride or die. If he’s not in a relationship though, well, he’s running trains.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Back shots are his go-to. Watching your ass bounce against his chiseled hips, your lips stretching over him as he glistens from you will have his eyes hooded as he grips your hair reminding you to be a good girl.

Sliding behind you while you do your make-up, hair in a bonnet leaves you late at least twice a week. He presses his dick into your ass as his hands cup your breasts through your chenille robe.

“Just the tip, ma. Just let me feel you.” Pro-tip: It’s never just the tip.

But, even Kill needs intimacy from his girl though, sooo…

If your Baby Girl, he will slow stroke you so deep with your legs draped over his shoulders as he says you look so pretty taking your dick. The pad of his thumb pressed against your throbbing nub. He will bury his face in your neck - nipping your tender skin and burying himself in you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Erik finds humor in your proverbial suffering, when you’re whining and whimpering for more or for a break, but he isn’t cracking jokes and dropping one liners.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He’s groomed and he smells like a man. I get Dior Sauvage vibes from him.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

This is a privilege, but if you’re lucky enough, you’re spoiled. Candles lit, flowers, soft sheets, expensive lingerie - making love is an art for him. He will degrade you in the most loving way as he lets you cum first, second, and third. Your pleasure and your worth make him feel like a man. Loving you correctly is a source of pride for him, and that means you are emotionally taken care of, even in the nastiest scene.

J = Jack/Jill Off (Masturbation headcanon)

When you first teased at a FaceTime show, you didn’t know you’d love it so much. Watching Erik left you so overwhelmed, you came hard - moaning his name as you pushed the toy in and out. He loves when you initiate. Knowing you want him validates him and indulging you is something he enjoys doing, so when he’s away for business, he treats you to the shows.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Sex is Erik’s kink. There is very little he doesn’t enjoy in the pursuit of pleasure. Not surprisingly, kinky Kill is reserved for his girl only. It’s a privilege to be tied up in his bed as his heavy hands run over your body, whispering the filthiest thoughts. It’s a privilege to role play in the bar on a spur-of-the-moment trip to New York with a blonde wig and end up bent of the bathroom sink as the game melts into real fucking. It’s a PRIVILEGE to have his submission - the times when he sinks on the bed, calling you with a finger, and he begs you to ride him leave you with heart eyes as you sink onto him, getting drunk on his moans as your ass bounces against his thighs.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Erik is a sucker for baecation sex.

Your melanated skin sparkles in the sun as you lay topless in the southern Pacific sun. The ocean breaks gently against the private dock and the soft R&B lulls your eyes shut behind your large sunglasses. Erik leaned against the door frame, watching your curves against the aquamarine seascape and his dick throbbed. He finished the rum - the sweet liquid icing his throat as he swallowed thickly and padded to your lounged body. His dick rested heavy against his thigh, already hard under his swim trunks, as his hulking frame shadowed you.

“Babe, what are you doing?” You raised your glasses and squinted in the bright sun - a wide smile on your face. He dropped between your knees - your legs falling open to accommodate him as his fingers danced over your warm skin. Your breath caught as the pad of his thumb brushed over your nipple - raising it under his touch, “Oh, so we’re doing that?” You mocked as he lifted your leg over his shoulder, his breath warm against your now-wet bikini bottoms.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Erik’s motivation in life is to dominate, and in the bedroom, that’s no different. He wants to own you in every sense of the word, and vice versa - he wants to be owned by you.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Cleanliness is next to godliness, so anything that is actually dirty, Erik is not into. On another note, disloyalty, shadiness, or any evidence of fuckery really just piss him off.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Not all pussy gets eaten, and that’s just really how it is, but for you, giving head is Erik’s solution to most problems and you don’t hate it. Bad day at work? Need attention? Broke a nail? All of it can be solved with his mouth. He loses his breath at the sight of your sticky lips and swollen clit as he brushes his nose against your folds before licking, sucking, and kissing all the places that make your pussy cry with joy.

Overpowering Erik’s dominance is rare, but you on your knees will make him relax and watch as you take him down your throat, gagging and slurping, as your tongue slides over each vein, swirling his mushroomed tip against your full lips. His hand will fist your hair, holding you still, as he thrusts into your throat - saliva dripping as you moan against him. The vibration leaves his dick throbbing as he lets you swallow, greedily enjoying your prize, hard earned from Daddy.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

There’s a time and place for it all and Erik reads the room.

You’ve been acting out, talking shit in front of his friends, kissing your teeth, and stomping through with a bratty attitude, and the only remedy for you is arched on the bed as his heavy hand lands hard on your ass and thighs. The cracking sound of your skin echoes through the room as you count in a weak voice - wetness pooling between your thighs, as he spreads your cheeks. “You just fucking up, so Daddy can fuck you up? Hmm?” He questions as he pushes into you. His question answered with a string of curses sprinkled with moans. “Don’t got shit to say now that I’m deep in my pussy, huh?” He fists your hair, holding you against the comforter, “If you wanted a little dick, just say it, ma.” His chuckle is sinful as his hips snap against you making you forget why you ever had an attitude in the first place.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

If Erik wants you, he will have you. Periodt.

The same, however, also goes for you, and the moments when you just. can’t. wait. leave Erik bustin’ earlier than he wants.

As Erik reached for the door, the locks snapped, leaving the door shut as he tossed you a side glance. This was the fourth stop of the night and your eyes were glassy from liqour as Erik shuffled you between kickbacks. “Come here,” Your hands reached for him, sliding down his t-shirt, resting on his crotch. “Just let me touch it, daddy.” You stretched the syllables as you pulled at his belt, urging it lower. “Come on, no one can see.” His hips rose, jeans sliding down as you pulled him from his boxers. “I just want a little bit.” Your hand jerked him slowly as you slid over him - your thick thighs pressing against the console and the door. He pulled his bottom lip through his teeth - his golds glittering - as you sank slowly onto him. “Just a little bit? You taking the whole thing,” His shirt was pulled under his chin as he watched his dick disappear into you with each rock. “It’s mine. I can take it all.” Your head lazed as Erik’s powerful thrusts took over and your soft moans filled the car.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Erik’s whole life is a risk, sex isn’t any different. Threesomes, orgies, tying people up, being tied up - all of it can find a place in his life.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Realistically, he can go two-three times in a row. During a day, you could give it five or six times if you really wanted it.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Toys aren’t for children and Erik uses them to his advantage. Plugs, vibrators, ties, restraints, lube - all in the drawer beside the bed waiting to be chosen to work your body into a puddle.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Before Erik, you never knew the beauty and power in a delayed release, and with Erik as a teacher, you learned the lessons of edging quite well. He’s a general tease - the build up is half the fun, and unless you’re being punished, he always delivers for you.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Erik is nasty and his words alone leave you dripping. His dirty talk is another level of freak, and he leaves you speechless when he says things like…

“Is this my pussy, ma?”

“Your shit drippin’ all over me.”

“Where did you learn to suck dick like this, baby girl?”

“Come on, give me my nut.”

“This tight pussy all mine.”

“Daddy knows the spot, ma.”

The filth that falls from his beautiful mouth leaves you begging for more, but the only thing that matters to you are his moans - hard earned and coveted from being a good girl. The throaty sounds that escape as he bottoms out or you squeeze him gently leave you panting and craving more.

Your acrylic nails raked over his scars - a sharp hiss escaping his mouth - as he pulled your leg over his hip, deepening his thrust. A flex of your walls shut his eyes - a guttural moan slipping out as he stilled himself above you. Your eyes drank in the heavenly sight above you. Loose dreads hung over his face, his lip caught between his teeth - his amber eyes glazed, “Quit playing, baby.” It was barely a whisper as he pulled back, slowly inching from you, when you squeezed him again and another moan echoed through the room.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Intimacy, for Erik, comes in the form of non-sexual activities. Almost anyone can get the dick, but not everyone gets their hand held at the Farmer’s Market while he shops trendy black-owned farms for fresh vegetables, not everyone gets to drive him to urgent care when he chilled with a fever, and not everyone gets the privilege of cleaning on Saturday mornings with 70s funk narrating the choice to use Fabuloso or Pine Sol.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

8-9 inches

Thick

Curved

It bounces when he walks

And it smells good.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He enjoys sex and it keeps him even. He wants you all the time. Of course, there’s real life responsibilities, but in the house, if he wants you, he will take you.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

This is assuming he only has sex at night or in a bed, but generally, he sleeps when he wants to and that includes after sex too.

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pockyxx · 3 years

Text

“ childhood friends ”

w. ushijima x fem!reader

genre: fluff.

with houses right next to each other and windows peering into one another’s room, it was a given that you and ushijima wakatoshi would become best friends.

growing up, summers were spent eating ice cream oncurb sides while winters were spent sledding and catching snowflakes on your tongues. and the seasons in between would be spent having sleep overs, sharing about every new piece of information that made its way into your young lives.

the two of you would constantly spend your days practing your volleyball skills and nights having long chat in the tree house ushijima’s father built for him as a departing gift.

you often found yourself, in a naive mindset, claiming one day that you’d be ushijima’s bride, that the two of you would have a big happy family and live happily forever. ushijima, just as naively, would agree to the statements, claiming he’d be an exelent husband and never forget to buy you flowers for anniversaries (something his father always forgot with his mother before he left).

those words tried to stand sterdy against the test of time, only to slowly fade away into empty promises as ushijima slowly fell deeper into the husstle and busstle of trying to be a professional athlete.

that didn’t mean ushijima had stopped loving you. although at the time they might’ve been silly yet indeering things spoken by scincere yet unknowing children, he couldn’t shake the feeling.

ushijima couldn’t understand most of things he felt, but this —he knew what this was, even though he was never bold enough to act on it. sure, he was a strong leader on the court but he could never muster anything up to give you a proper confession.

over the years, though, you wanted to be loved and as much as your heart ached for your next door neighbour, he just wasn’t an option during highschool. you honestly didn’t want to ruin the beautiful friendship that you’d formed.

this would lead to handfuls of half-assed relationships, shitty exboyfriends and heartbroken nights— all in which ushijima was there to help you through.

it would break ushijima’s heart to hear you cry about some stupid boy who’d broken up with you and he personally wanted to beat them up for not treating you the way you deserved.

his fists would clench yet the words he’d been longing to say never could make it out of mind and into verbal form.

ushijima liked routine, that’s why every night he came home from practice and taken a shower he’d water the plants infront of house before heading to bed. it was a way for him to relax and clear his mind.

tonight, though, his tranquility was interrupted by arguing voices, which he instantly distinguished as your own and that of your most current boyfriend.

“kyosuke, i told you to leave me alone.” you snapped, turning back to face the blond boy who was taller than you but still dimmed in comparison to ushijima.

“no.” he hissed back, trying to grab at your arm, “i’m not just gonna let you leave like this, you can’t just kiss me like that yesterday and then today tell me you don’t feel anything.”

the two of you were so wrapped up in the argument that you didn’t even notice ushijima watching quietly as the two of you were standing in front of his house.

“let go of me!” the fear in your voice caught the ace’s attention even more, now gripping the handle of the garden hose tightly.

“y/n i’m not letting you leave.” the other male growled, a predatory look in his eyes as he keep you caged within arms.

ushijima scowled, in a irrational decision, he quickly switched the settings to a light sprinkle to a flash jet. he sprayed the water in your direction, mostly trying to get your now ex-boyfriend to leave you alone.

“she told you to let her go.” he deadpanned, a menicing look on his face, one that usually only his competition on the court would see.

kyosuke, or whatever his name was, growled and wiped the water off his face before walking off in an angry strif.

you stood there shocked, shirt dripping wet, the night breeze sending a chill down your spin. slowly, you turned your attention to ushijima, salty tears mixing with the hose water.

“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to hit you.” he quickly apologized, turning it off and making his way to the gate.

“it’s alright ‘toshi.” you chuckled hugging yourself. you knew your house was right there but all you wanted was for him to invite you in. thankfully, he wasn’t always as dense as he seemed.

“your welcome to come in and wash up.” he unlocked the gate for you, “and if you want we can talk, and watch [your favourite movie].” his keen memory making you giggled. he always knew how to cheer you up whenever you were down.

nodding, you accepted the offer as ushijima lead you into his empty house. where his mother was? probably working late and as you climbed up the familiar steps, you could feel how lonely the house was.

“you can borrow one of my extra shirts and you can leave whatever’s wet on the shower curtain.” ushijima instructed, you smiled sending him a ‘thanks waka’ before changing.

soon finding yourself cozied up, head resting on his lap with his calloused fingers curling up strands of your hair.

“toshi, can i tell you something?” you asked halfway through the film, feeling your heart beating faster and faster and the small distance between your lips and his.

looking down at you with a stern face, he nodded. although catching a glimpse of his eye made you blush and just snap your head back towards to tv, “never mind it’s stupid.”

ushijima lightly grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look back up at him. he seemed a bit upset now, his eyebrows frowning together as if he was thinking of something.

“don’t keep things from me— what did you want to tell me?” his voice was still warm and welcoming, he wasn’t nessisarly mad at you for not speaking your mind.

you opened your mouth, thinking of how you were going to phrase what came next, would tonight really be the night you told wakatoshi about your feelings? it seemed too sudden in your opinion.

“it’s nothing much, i’m just glad you’re here, that you’re always here for me.” you smiled weakly. he hummed in response, probably still thinking of an equally heartfelt response.

“i’ll always be here.” he sighed, grabbing you to sit up straight. it always marveled you how strong he was. “i always want to be there for you.”

he was deep in thought, you could tell, easily picking up his micro-expressions. the way his tongue slightly stuck out, his nostrils flared up just the tiniest bit and his jaw would clench. you placed your hand over him, reassuring him he could keep going.

“the thing is y/n, that sometimes i don’t want to be your friend.” you pulled back, confused.

“what? did i do something wrong?!” he noticed your hurt expression and quickly put his hands up in defence.

“no, no! i’m sorry if i offended you, that wasn’t what i was trying to say.” he sighed again, watching you relax and slowly make your way closer to him.

“what i meant was that, that i like you.”

“well i like you too, ‘toshi.”

“no y/n, i don’t mean as a friend.”

“well i didn’t mean as a friend either.”

he looked at you, wide eyed as you blushed, trying to look away. he was shocked, to say the least, he was expecting instant rejection, that you would tell him “‘toshi, i think we should just stay friends, i’m sorry.”

you could feel your heart beating and with every doki it was jumping up your throat. what now? this wasn’t the confession you created scenerios of before bed but nonetheless you’d managed to express your feelings.

“does this mean we can go on a date?” ushijima asked, his stiff posture made you giggle. you leaned into him, as he seemed to de-tense. resting your head on his chest you nodded,

“of course it does.” you paused, looking up at his sharp features, “but does it mean i can kiss you?”

his eyebrows raised, mouth gapping. he blinked a handful of times before coming to his sense. he nodded. just like that, you sat up, brushing your nose against his fluttering your eyes closed, you kissed him. it felt like a dream but his hand being gently placed on the small of your back was a reminder that it wasn’t.

pulling back he grinned. this time holding you a little closer, the memory of having to splash away your ex boyfriend was just that, a memory.

#hq ushijima #ushijima hcs #ushijima fluff #haikyuu!!#hq fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyū!!#ushijima x reader #ushijima x you #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima scenarios #ushijima headcanons #ushijima x y/n #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi fluff #ushiwaka #ushijima oneshot

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thehollowprince · 3 years

Text

Sterek, Thiam, & Queerbaiting, Oh My!

(Or how racism and homophobia suppressed the actual representation of gay men in the show that fandom so desperately claimed they wanted.)

So, I'm just going to come out and say it right off the bat: neither of these ships were actually queerbaiting. As a matter of fact, I'd say that those ships just by themselves (and the fandoms that rose around them) were low-key homophobic. The reason I say this isn't just because of the large number of women in this fandom that fetishize mlm sexuality, nor is it about those who attack anyone who has any critique of those ships, its just about the ships themselves.

Now, one could argue that those ships arose from the fandom, and that is true, forever linking canon and fanon in the worst possible way, but this is more to do with the fact that the production of this show cowtowed to the vocal fans on Twitter and put moments in there that, while not explicitly canon, was a not-so-subtle nod to those "fans" that harassed people over crack ships.

Of course, I've been over this before, the pedophilic nature of Sterek and the outright abusive elements to Thiam, but those very real complaints (from an actual gay man like myself) always fall on deaf ears or is usually met with the whole "fiction doesn't affect reality" spiel. And this is incredibly frustrating (or even downright infuriating) to those of us who have had to live with these stereotypes because of our sexuality. To this day there are people out there who equate gay men with pedophiles. That's one of the major talking points for these anti-LGBT religious groups and there's an entire group of people on the internet who are dedicated to promoting a predatory style relationship (Sterek).

What makes the popularity of Sterek so infuriating, is the fact that we had Danny right there. Danny was present in the second episode of the series. We were introduced to him before there was any kind of interaction between Stiles and Derek, and yet he is continually slept on by the fandom, and then by the production as a result of the fandom, which eventually led to Danny just disappearing from the show entirely. To add insult to injury, Danny was practically everything Fandom was crying for when it came to gay representation. He was handsome with a nice body, smart and funny, and everyone liked him, and yet there's usually cricket chirps whenever he's mentioned. Something similar happened to Scott - a character that who stuck fast to his morals and was just an all around good person, and yet so many people violently hated him. Now what could Danny and Scott have in common that made so many people look past them? Gee, I wonder?

Moving forward, once Sterek was no longer a possibility, rather than focus on, I don't know, Mason, a character that was tailor-made for the fandom, they once again make up a crack ship to flock around (Thiam) rather than focus on the actual, consensual relationship that was made up of actual gay characters.

But you may be saying to yourself, "at least these two (Theo and Liam) were around the same age", and you would be right in that regards. But what makes this ship bad, is that it's rooted entirely in first deceit and then later in physical violence. I remember very vividly seeing someone say that Liam and Theo punching each other was how they expressed their affection and I was horrified by that. How many times a day on this app do we see posts floating around that domestic violence is wrong? And then how many times do you see a ship (usually a crack ship) that a fandom loves rooted in physical violence? The disconnect is terrifying.

All of this while Mason and Corey were right there, being cute and in love and everything that fandom claims they want when it comes to representation, yet they're totally ignored in favor of the two straight characters beating the shit out of one another. This is why so many franchises revolving around these "macho men" are able to thrive, even though so many people (mostly women) in fandom claim they want softer men. And yet, whenever a softer man is presented, particularly if they're a man of color, they're brushed aside.

And that's just mlm representation! You hear almost nothing when it comes to wlw representation, unless its to get the women "out of the way".

This all comes down to the racism that permeates every level of fandom. I'm not saying this is intentional, because we've all done it. Hell, I did it. When I joined the Teen Wolf fandom, I followed pro-Sterek blogs and reblogged Sterek posts, because I wanted to be accepted in the fandom, and I bought into the propaganda that was fanon!Sterek. I read the metas and the fics and decided to believe in those instead of what I saw on the screen with my own two eyes. Thankfully, I snapped out of it, but that's why Sterek (and later Thiam) dominated fandom spaces, even making their way to polls for "Best Couple" on many websites.

And then, when these ships don't become canon, fandom screams QUEERBAITING!!! Even though those ships were something made up entirely by the fandom and never something that production considered being canon.

Another big part of how the situation gets as bad as it does is that fandom misunderstands (either accidentally or deliberately) what racism actually means. It's not just the throwing of slurs, it's the preference of the white character over the character of color, even though the latter has everything they said they wanted. Racism is reducing characters of color to stereotypes, such as a brown or brown person being violent (Tamora and Kali) or the sexually obsessed Latino (Scott) or the untrustworthy negro (Deaton and Morrell). Hell, even Boyd was thrust into the silent negro stereotype for some reason.

Now this part, this is as much the production's fault as it is the fandoms, because while the former introduced those concepts (or even if fandom thinks they introduced those concepts) fandom then takes them and blows them out of proportion. How many times have I gotten an ask from that one anon telling me that Scott was "obsessed" with Allison? How many times have I seen metas about how Deaton was "untrustworthy" because he didn't share his every waking thought? How many times did we see particular blogs slut-shame Braeden because she engaged in a consensual relationship with Derek?

And the thing about those is, yes, the original idea was introduced in the show, such as Scott's relationship with Allison or Deaton only offering advice when asked or Derek and Braeden flirting, but fandom took them and cranked them up to eleven in an effort to make these characters look horrible. This is something we don't see at all when it comes to their white counterparts. Stiles is never described as "obsessed" by the fandom despite his fixation on Lydia. Peter is almost never described as "untrustworthy" by the fans despite lying and decieving people all the time. Neither Lydia or Malia are called sluts for being sexually active despite not being in relationships.

When Derek repeatedly assaults Stiles (or Scott, not that fandom cared), it's seen as quirky or romantic (same with Thiam), but when Scott hits Isaac or Jackson, in scenes that were very specifically shown to be comedic, its seen as abusive and violent. Stiles asking Danny if he's "attractive to gay guys" or pausing after Caitlin asked him if he liked guys is deemed proof that he's bisexual, but Scott's interactions with Isaac and Danny (or even Stiles himself), where had they been a guy and a girl, it would have clearly been an intimate moment, is still considered absolutely straight by fandom.

So what's the difference?

It's the racism.

The real kicker at the end of the day here is that fans cry queerbaiting, all the while they're actively sleeping on the actual gay representation that's there. It doesn't fit their aesthetic, so they ignore it, and then wonder why mlm relationships are going down in television. I'm not saying we shouldn't want or demand more representation in media, but people can't be so ignorant as to outright ignore the representation they're given and then wonder why they're not getting more.

Well, this got way longer than I originally intended and I hope I'm not just screaming into the void, but this is an issue that's still relevant, all these years after Teen Wolf ended.

#teen wolf meta #teen wolf fandom problems #teen wolf racism #scott mccall defense squad #anti sterek #anti thiam

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thedistantdusk · 4 years

Text

Private

Thanks to @floreatcastellumposts for Brit-picking and @el-eye-zee-aye for organizing the Harry/Ginny Discord birthday challenge! This was a lot of fun! T for language/mild sexual humor.

On AO3

________________________

Being the significant other of the most desirable wizard in Britain doesn’t come without drawbacks. Ginny knew that from the off. Even the earliest days of their raw, rekindled relationship were marked with requests for interviews, a trend that continued throughout the summer of 1998. When she returned to Hogwarts that September, reporters took it upon themselves to sneak onto the platform, capture her and Harry’s final, departing snog… and then reprint it, absolutely everywhere. Without their consent.

Her decision to pursue professional quidditch after Hogwarts made the situation both better and worse. On one hand, the publicity became less random. Less speculative. As soon as she signed with the Harpies, her privacy was protected — at least to some degree. Press events were soon planned and targeted instead of the sporadic, anxiety-inducing sneaks attacks to which she’d become accustomed.

The trade-off, of course, is that when press events do happen, they’re dreadful.

Utterly, completely dreadful.

Ginny sits in the enormous purple armchair and bites the inside of her cheek. She hates interviews like these… ones of the aforementioned dreadful variety. This one is with Sandra Richardson of Witch Weekly, a woman known for her propensity towards twisting words and taking statements out of context. But it’s part of the job, Ginny reminds herself for the thousandth time that morning. She must sit through six of these per year, each before a match. She must be generally pleasant and polite. She must represent her team well.

And above all else, she must not lose her temper. Right.

“Don’t be nervous, dear,” croons a dripping, saccharine voice. Oh. Ginny swallows. Sandra Richardson, here for the interview.

Sandra places the tray on the table between them and shoots Ginny a wink as she begins pouring tea for each of them. A younger, more naive Ginny might have trusted Sandra from her appearance alone. Her gold jewelry and buttoned blouse make her seem more matronly than predatory. But just as she plops down in her armchair, brushing a lock of her coiffed blonde hair from her forehead, Ginny catches a look in her eyes that she’s all too familiar with.

Ambition… red-hot, glowing ambition. The type she’ll chase with everything she has.

Yes. Ginny sits up a bit straighter. The interview hasn’t started, but she already sees it for what it is. The whole thing now reminds of scoldings in Umbridge’s office.

“Sugar?” Sandra gestures towards a polka-dotted dish in front of them.

Ginny forces a smile. “No thanks.” Merlin knows she won’t be drinking it. This is what they do, these reporters; they lull you into a false sense of security with their tea and their biscuits and their grins. Once upon a time, Ginny was thick enough to fall for that — for the manipulation disguised as courtesy. Now, she’s a bit wiser.

“Interesting,” says Sandra, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh?” Ginny can’t fathom why, but she has a feeling she’s about to find out anyway.

Sandra slowly sips her tea before she lifts her quill and notebook. “Are you abstaining from sugar for… any particular health reason?” she asks, her lips curled in a coy smirk.

Ginny gets the unnerving sensation that the interview started long ago. She refuses to give Sandra the satisfaction of a true reply.

“Nope,” she replies brightly, clasping her hands in her lap. “Just not my prefere—

“—Mm,” interrupts Sandra. “Because I hear that sugar and caffeine often trigger morning sickness. Did you know that, Ginny?”

Ginny’s forced smile remains in place. In truth, she’d expected something like this. Their wedding is soon — very soon. People have been pestering them about their reproductive plans for months. Sandra certainly isn’t above the masses.

“I didn’t,” Ginny says smoothly. “But let’s discuss quidditch. It’s why I’m here, after all!” She shoots Sandra a knowing wink and hopes that conveys when she can’t say: mind your fucking business, you cow.

Unfortunately, Sandra doesn’t take the hint. “It’s now 6th August, Ginny. Officially in between the birthdays of you and your Chosen One.”

“Well spotted,” Ginny notes, still grinning. “Who needs calendars when we have you?”

There’s a beat.

For just a second, Ginny thinks she’s gone too far… but she soon realizes that with Sandra, there’s no such thing as a boundary.

“We’ve all swooned over those photos of him holding your niece — oh, what’s her name…” Sandra taps her teeth, pretending like she doesn’t know the answer; Ginny’s blood rises to a low simmer. “Victoria?”

“Victoire,” Ginny grits. Little gets her back up faster than bringing oblivious children into things. Especially when they’re used for manipulation tactics.

“Oh yes, that’s right,” Sandra croons. “Victoire!” She places a hand over her heart as if reliving a poignant memory… as if she’s had any bloody involvement in Vic’s life. “She’s such a gorgeous baby, isn’t she?”

Ginny forces a laugh. “You’d know, I reckon, since you’ve seen her! Now.” She clears her throat. “I’ve a game in two weeks against the Falcons. Let’s discuss—”

“In time,” Sandra says, waving a manicured hand. To her left, a fluttering of movement catches Ginny’s eye. Shit. The white feathered end of a Quick Quotes Quill furiously darts through the air as the tip scribbles on a notepad. When did Sandra take that out? She thought for certain that Hermione banned them…

“But for now, let’s focus a bit on you, eh?” Sandra presses, her cloud of blonde hair brushing against her shoulders as she cocks her head. “I’m sure readers would be titillated to hear about how your fiance has been in quarantine for over a month. What’s that been like?”

Ginny snorts. Oh, for the love of -- that’s what she’s getting at?! The complete non-story of Harry being quarantined?

“That’s… not very exciting,” Ginny replies. Because it isn’t. With a bored voice, she begins the thousandth recollection of exactly how and why her fiance hasn’t been able to leave the house for two weeks. “Harry was raised by muggles and wasn’t exposed to Dragon Pox as a child. With the latest outbreak in London, the Auror Department wanted to keep him home until they’re finished with the latest preventative potion.” Ginny picks at a piece of lint on the velvet couch. “It’s quite dull.”

Just like this interview.

The remainder of the sentence remains unspoken in the air, but Ginny hears it resonating in her head so loudly she almost jumps.

Sandra just gives her a knowing smirk; Ginny feels a rush of relief that the woman isn’t a Legilimens. “I don’t know. Sounds like fun, having a man all wrapped up for you, 24/7?”

Ha! This time, Ginny really does laugh. Seriously, what is the media obsession with constant sex? She’s about to launch into an explanation about how it’s thoroughly possible to be too bored to shag, but Sandra cuts her off with an even more horrendous question.

“Remind me,” says Sandra, leaning in close. “How old were your in-laws when their Chosen One was born?”

Oh, for the love of—

Ginny bats her eyelashes fiercely. “I’m sure you know,” she says through gritted teeth, “since you’re asking this question. But seeing as how we can’t bloody ask them, I don’t find it appropriate to—“

“Lily Potter was nineteen when she fell pregnant,” Sandra says through a stage whisper. She claps her hands together as if she finds this a truly revealing statement. As if anyone isn’t capable of reading the bloody gravestones and doing the math.

Ginny clears her throat. “Good to know. So the Harpies only have one more match this year, and—“

“You’re 19,” Sandra adds, continuing the conversation she’s only been having with herself. “The rumors around London are that the quarantine is bogus. Has Harry already quit his job to be a stay at home dad? He’d love to have his own Chosen Ones, Miss Weasley.”

In retrospect, Ginny will realize that this comment is the final fucking straw. She could handle the false flattery. She could see through the batted eyelashes and the singsong lulling into complacency. But she cannot — will not — stand for this complete cow spreading rumors about Harry.

But instead of handling any of it maturely, she rises to her feet, glares at Sandra, and provides a retort so lewd, so scathing, that it rocks the tabloids for months.

And with a triumphant quirk of her eyebrow, Ginny turns on the spot and disapparates, leaving Sandra’s dropped jaw to tremble as the Quick Quotes Quill continues scribbling so fast it scratches the parchment.

Even before her feet touch down, she regrets the whole ordeal.

She doesn’t regret telling Sandra off, mind — but with a wince, Ginny accepts that yes, she does regret how she did it. She regrets that she’s just given the cow enough ammunition to paint her as a true villain. She regrets that she involved Harry and—

Harry.

Ginny shudders. Harry, who values his privacy above everything else. Harry, who won’t discuss anything about her in interviews, but still gets this adorably lovesick grin whenever her name comes up. Harry, who loves her. And trusted her.

Fuck.

Ginny pinches the bridge of her nose, her stomach sinking, and wonders how in hell she’s going to talk her way out of this one.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t have long to ponder how she’ll break the news. In the blink of an eye, Harry’s coming around the corner. Poor bloke. It’s not like he’s got much else to do but await her return. This whole quarantine experience is uncomfortably reminiscent of Sirius' last months of life. She can't ignore the ghostly memory of Dumbledore’s gentle chiding that energetic young men (and women, she supposes) don’t do well cooped up, cut off from the outside world...

“Hey!” says the man in question, flashing her a smile. “That was a quick one! Thought I heard you, but you’re—“

“I fucked up.”

Her whisper echoes in the flat. She stares at her trainers, her face burning.

She blinks up as Harry shifts in place; his smile is nowhere to be seen, replaced with the look she knows and hates. Harry’s jaw is set, his eyes narrowed in concern. He’s doing the whole I’m-strong-for-you-but-I’m-afraid.

“Erm. Ok?” he asks, gesturing towards the couch. “Would you like to...?”

“I’ve said something during the interview I shouldn’t,” Ginny adds, biting the inside of her cheek. “Something I definitely, definitely shouldn’t.”

There’s another pause. Ginny worries, just for a second, that she’s scared him or that he’s somehow already heard.

But she should’ve known him better. Because in a split-second, Harry both senses exactly what she needs... and acts on it.

He wraps her in his arms and rests his chin on the crown of her head. He presses her face to his chest and guides them both to the couch and makes soothing murmurs and brushes the hair away from her jaw.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says gently. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you claim, but—”

“It is,” Ginny whispers, miserable.

Harry shrugs. “Well, I can’t possibly know until you tell me, so—”

“She— she mentioned your mother.”

Harry’s chest stiffens as he draws a sharp breath; she gets the impression he’s trying very hard to wait until she’s done to interject with words of support.

“She... Sandra... she mentioned that I’m nearly 19, your mother was 19 when she fell pregnant, and—”

Harry cuts her off with a snort. “And does she think that was on purpose? I mean I’m happy I’m here, but yeah...” He shifts her in his arms, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I don’t seem entirely intentional, given the circumstances.”

“Well, babies have a tendency of showing up like that,” Ginny replies dryly. “Sandra did raise a good point about making sure we’re... being careful.” She grazes a fingernail up his arm and relishes when his skin erupts in gooseflesh.

For a fleeting, victorious second, Ginny thinks she’s distracted him. She thinks she’s achieved her ultimate goal of turning his attention to the 24/7 sex they’re alleged to be having.

But she should know better, really, that Harry would ever be fooled when it comes to her.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Harry rumbles, his voice gentle but firm. “Not like I’ve got anywhere else to go, after all. We can sit here for the next few weeks if—”

“She asked when we’re having kids. And not just in passing,” Ginny adds, raising a pointer finger. “No, Harry, she pushed. Over and over. She suggested I was already pregnant, she brought up your mother, she asked when I’d function as the vessel for the Chosen One’s offspring…” She trails off with a sigh. “So. Finally, I snapped.”

He takes her still-extended pointer finger and gently pushes it into a fist. “What did you tell her?” he asks, kissing her knuckles. “Because from what I’m hearing, it sounds like she deserves it. Honestly I’m surprised you didn’t—”

“Isaidwhenyoustopfinishingonmytits!”

There’s another pause. “Erm, sorry, what was that? I didn’t quite—”

“I said,” Ginny repeats, her voice strained, “that we’ll have a baby when you stop finishing on my tits!”

Fuck.

She groans, sliding her hands over her face. Recapping this is somehow worse than living it the first time. Speaking it to Harry changes the stakes. It turns the situation from hypothetical to absolute. It solidifies that she fucked up... she really, really fucked up.

And she’s so lost in humiliation, so buzzing with horror, that it takes her a second to realize that Harry isn’t buzzing for the same reasons. Although he’s certainly shaking, isn’t he?

A second later, she dares to peer at him through her fingers. To her delight, Harry’s not furious — he’s laughing!

And when they make eye contact, his silent shaking transforms into full-body laughter. The type that sends tears to his eyes. The type that’s infectious, contagious. The type that makes her want to laugh, too.

“So I take it you’re not… angry?”

Harry wipes his eyes. “Ginny,” he says weakly, “I’m laughing so hard I can’t breathe! Did you actually think I’d be angry over that?” He snorts, pressing her against his chest again. “No. For once and for all, no. She crossed a line, and she got what was coming.”

“But you hate attention,” Ginny moans into his shoulder. “You hate big displays and personal things being public and—”

“But I love you,” he says softly, kissing her temple. He gives a dry chuckle that sends tingled through her body. “And to be honest, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t go off on people. Especially when they deserve it.”

She sighs, pulling back. She has to see his face to confirm. To reassure herself. As she’d suspected, Harry’s just giving her a wry smirk. His green eyes are flooded with warmth as he peers back at her. Even after all this time, he still looks at her like he can’t believe she’s there. Like he can’t believe she’s his. His smirk grows to a full-on grin, and Ginny bites her lip; she thinks he’s about to provide some sappy, lovesick rebuttal.

Instead, he replies with something that’s simultaneously the absolute best — and the absolute worst.

“Besides,” Harry says casually. “Joke’s on them. We both know I’d never have the self-control or coordination to finish on your tits.”

With that, she laughs... really, truly laughs. She relaxes against his side, letting the soothing rhythm of his voice wash over her. He laces his fingers through hers. He plays with the strands of her hands.

And by the end of the night, she’s thankful for exactly two things: her fiancé in quarantine, and the contraception that will keep them from enacting Sandra’s plan for a long, long time.

#harry/ginny fanfic #harry/ginny discord #ginny's birthday #harry/ginny

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purecamp · 4 years

Text

RE: Sharon

okay so, i think this has been a long time coming. back when people were anonymously harassing me, i guess they wanted to bully a traumatised 17 year old into a statement, and i definitely wasn’t gonna give in to that. i guess i can speak now.

i want to be VERY clear on a few things.

1. i do not, in any way, support or excuse the previous genuinely racially insensitive behaviour (so not the RHPS mix up, for example) of sharon. i never have, as you will have seen on posts about it before.

2. you should always believe the victim until proven otherwise.

3. believing the victim does NOT mean you should immediately jump on, cancel, and harass the accused, or their friends and family.

4. i am not defending her nor am i claiming the accusations are false.

so now i’m going to share some thoughts. you’re under no obligation to read, however, do NOT send me abusive asks or demands without reading the whole thing. or just don’t in general, because i’m sick of it.

first of all i need you to understand that what went down at the end of june was very traumatic for me. you can laugh all you want if you’re going to be a dick, but that’s what it was. i have been a fan of sharon since 2016, when i was 13 years old, and so she’s been a huge part of my adolescence as i’ve grown into the person i am today. i was shy, insecure and young, and through my devotion to her, the new friends i made because of her, and my increasing confidence, i changed and grew a lot into someone i am happy to be, partly due to her. i held her very close to my heart, as you all know. the allegation was devastating to me, and i openly and truthfully admit that i cried on and off for a full week after they came out. any time i thought about her or saw her name, i would start to tear up and cry again. i felt totally crushed, and essentially began grieving the loss of someone i loved.

i want to be sure that you know i did not idolise sharon. i never wanted to be her or be like her, nor did i view her as a role model. drag queens as a whole are not role models, they are entertainers who originally used to thrive on shock, deviance and contemporary culture before drag race became a thing. she was never my idol, but i loved her art and i cared for her as a person.

for a good while i avoided her entirely, online and in my own mind. i was horrified and in too much pain to brush it aside, as i expect everyone was. i had read the document, and would revisit it to hurt myself, until i realised how damaging that was to my mental health, and vowed to stop. i never viewed it again, which is why some of the details i won’t be discussing purely bc i don’t remember, and i refused to think about it, rereading old favourite series to distract myself and burying my head.

in recent months i’ve allowed myself to think on things a little more, and formed my own opinions on the matter. i may be wrong, i may not. for now, none of us know the full truth.

i can say with full certainty that the nature of sharon and annecy’s relationship was unusual and unhealthy. i do NOT believe it was predatory, nor intended to manipulate, cause harm, or gain something sinister.

it seems to me that what is described happening, for the most part, is true, but not as sinister and deliberately harmful as it has been presented to us. we all know people around us, people who love us, can cause us harm unintentionally, and this is what the situation strikes me as. (i maintain the fact that i could be wrong, however, please take my thoughts with a pinch of salt and not as gospel). i believe that their parents should have been more aware and more careful. i think they should have used more discretion. i think sharon and other adults should have been better, and they weren’t.

what happened to them is heartbreaking to read about, and i really feel for their pain and trauma. i don’t believe this trauma was inflicted intentionally, nor do i agree with (the fanbase mostly) the presentation of sharon as an evil, p*dophilic predator, preying on a helpless young girl. annecy was in an inappropriate place for someone of their age, at the time, and sharon misused her power, not in a position to be responsible like she should’ve been. to be clear, though: she was not a sexual predator or p*dophile, and these accusations which have come purely from fans and not from the document itself, should be cut right now.

i want everyone involved to have access to the resources they need in order to recover, learn, change, and grow. i don’t hate anyone involved. i want this to be clear as well.

furthermore - the document has since been deleted. a few things i know are that sharon has been in contact with lawyers, understandably, and this is why she hasn’t made a statement as so many people are demanding of her. if you think having a lawyer makes you guilty... i don’t know what to say, other than that’s a weird view to have. i don’t know if the deletion is to do with the lawyers, or if it was their own decision. i also know that they have gone on to accuse lists and lists of people - some that i can remember including morgan mcmichaels, jinkx monsoon, alaska, alaska’s brother cory, detox, bendelacreme - of inappropriately touching them while they were a minor, as well as (proven falsely) claiming that aquaria was also abused by sharon, and sent underage nudes to her. again, this was not true, and at least for me, casts doubt on the credibility of the idea of sharon as an evil person and determined abuser.

like i said - i’m not saying that sharon didn’t act inappropriately, because she 100% did, and i find this very upsetting. i’m just saying that i don’t believe there was deliberate ill-intention or harm behind any of what happened, besides a fucked up situation between some fucked up people.

i don’t know how to end this, so i’ll leave it here. i hope this makes some kind of sense and that i haven’t dug myself into a hole.

i don’t support or excuse what she did. i don’t deny that it happened. but i don’t think i hate her anymore.

lastly, i have been given permission to tell you to direct any rude comments to my legal representative @veronicasanders who read through this for me, who will “happily rip their assholes out of their throats for harassing you.”

i understand that you may have criticism for me, but i have thought long and hard about my opinions and i hope you can respect them.

#my thoughts

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trailerparkbubbs · 3 years

Text

Anyways we should talk about the whole Lahey and Julian thing I guess.

There’s this common trope in tv where a male character will have a crush on another male character, make some kind of move on them or somehow show their attraction, get rejected, and then continue to harass the second character for the remainder of the show, all of which is played for laughs. Other notable examples of this are Dean Pelton harassing Jeff in Community and Mac harassing Dennis in It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia, as well as non-sexual/romantic (but still very creepy and violating!) versions with Michael and Ryan from The Office and Charles and Jake from Brooklyn Nine Nine. All of these examples show different dynamics between the two characters involved, but all of them hinge on people laughing at one character harassing another long term.

Now, I like all of these shows, and I think that this trope can provide some funny moments, and it’s certainly not enough to condemn a show on its own. However, I also think that it’s kind of rooted in homophobia and misogyny to some extent – like, “Oh, our one token gay character is super creepy and has no sense of boundaries and is hopelessly in love with our straight, male protagonist!” but also “Harassment is funny when it’s two guys, right? Lol look at this guy getting sexually harassed, what a pussy, I’m sure he can just brush it off.” Not that any of these shows are outright trying to be homophobic or sexist, but that the way homophobia and sexism have shaped our societal perceptions is directly related to why we find these plotlines funny.

Another issue that amplifies the problem with this trope is when shows don’t have any other queer rep, or try to make the harasser a sympathetic character in order to make them into “valid queer rep” without addressing the ramifications of them being a harasser. Obviously this doesn’t apply in the case of B99 and The Office, but it does apply with IASIP* and Community. When a show only has one queer character, making that character a caricature-esque predator who harasses the straight, male protagonist really does more harm than good. When you try and round that character out without addressing the really horrible thing they’ve been doing for the whole show, it reads as playing off sexual harassment as a joke or not that big of an issue. Either way, not good.

*As far as IASIP goes, the characters are of course supposed to be terrible people, but that doesn’t put the show above criticism (and there are a lot of genuinely homophobic, sexist, and racist moments that can’t be ignored).

So, getting back to Trailer Park Boys. There are several queer characters, but most of them are “villains”, and for the characters who fluctuate, their queerness and villainy tend to go hand in hand – for instance, Barb finding out she’s interested in women, getting into a relationship with two women, and becoming a terrible person for the rest of the season, before breaking it off with said women and going back to normal. Lahey in particular is the major antagonist of the show – and while we see him having sympathetic moments, and we understand why he is the way he is, he remains generally an antagonist for the entire show. Lahey is drunk, delusional, powerhungry, and he hates Ricky, Julian, and Bubbles... except that he also has a crush on Julian which he makes no effort to contain.

This starts out with Lahey just saying Julian is “sexy” every once in a while, which basically every character on the show does at some point. This didn’t bother me at all – it’s funny when Lahey says it, but only because he’s usually saying it while actively working against Julian in some way, and often will say something like “You’re going to jail, you sexy bastard!”. Eventually, he starts making comments directly to Julian, and we get a talking head where Julian says he’s uncomfortable with the comments Lahey has been making, and that Lahey even tried to kiss him at one point. This is obviously pretty bad on Lahey’s part – trying to kiss someone who has made it clear that they don’t want to kiss you is a lot worse than simply saying they’re attractive – but still not too bad as far as this trope goes.

However, as this show does with everything, they soon take it up to eleven with Lahey coercing Julian into kissing him as part of a legal deal (before walking away at the last second), making a mannequin of Julian and taking a bath with it, and (outside of the actual show, but revealed in a liveshow/special so... you decide if it’s canon I guess) placing a hidden camera in Julian’s bathroom in the hopes of seeing him naked. Julian takes this mostly in stride, and is even able to throw Lahey out of the park directly following the whole mannequin/bath thing.

Trailer Park Boys does avoid some of the problems with this trope by making Lahey an antagonist rather than a sympathetic character, having other queer characters who aren’t predators, and having Julian clearly express his discomfort with the situation in a serious way, as well as making Lahey also have proper relationships with other characters, rather than just obsessing over Julian the whole time. However, it might have been nice for a show with so many queer characters to make at least a few of them (relatively) good people who aren’t actively trying to fuck over the protagonists, and to let the characters who do have sympathetic moments be queer and sympathetic simultaneously. Lahey is certainly not the worst example of this trope, and he’s a very funny character – but I think the trope of “predatory gay character being played for laughs” in general is homophobic, sexist, and something I could do without in the future.

#tpb #trailer park boys #tpb julian #Jim Lahey

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themountainsays · 4 years

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Elsa would be, fucking terrified of kissing or touching Anna even when she discovers her feelings are reciprocated because, she’s the big sister. She’s the one meant to set the limits when her little sister goes nuts, and the one meant to think twice and protect her and THIS is... vile. To her eyes, she’s meant to protect Anna from her own perversion, and the fact that not only Elsa is failing but feeling this same kind of attraction herself? Shameful. Disgusting. She’s the worst big sister in existance. Even if she does usually fail at the thinking-twice-before-making-a-decision department, THIS is where she CANNOT fail. THIS is where she needs to be the responsible one and say no when she’s dying to say yes. Anna is wrong. She’s confused. She doesn’t know what she wants. But... Anna is an adult. She’s, what, twenty years old? She’s not a little girl anymore (even if she’s always going to be Elsa’s little princess). She insists that she knows what she feels, that she’s thought about this too and that this is a concious, informed decision she’s making of pursuing Elsa. She promises to leave her alone if Elsa doesn’t want her after her, she doesn’t want to be a perversely clingy little sibling, so mentally unwell that she’s obsessing and lusting after her big sister, but... she’s only that if Elsa sees her that way. And Elsa doesn’t! By the gods of Ásgarðr and Vanaheimr she doesn’t! It’s her, can’t she see!? It’s her fault! She failed as a big sister. She was meant to... to help Anna overcome her... affliction. What Elsa felt? Didn’t matter. She just wanted to be a good sister, a good girl. And she can’t even do that.

By letting her gaze linger on the freckles of her little sister’s shoulders, by running her hands through her hair and failing to stop her mind from whirring to a halt as her heart began to race and a soft sigh left her mouth, slowly and deliberately feeling the soft texture between the pads of her fingers, by allowing her arms to wrap around her waist and hold her as tight as she could, wincing at the mere idea of letting her go... she’s abusing her little sister. This is predatory. Big sisters shouldn’t think of little sisters like this. She’s older. She’s more powerful. She’s the Queen. And most importantly, she’s her sister and Anna would do anything to earn her approval, wouldn’t she? It certainly doesn’t seem so when she confronts and questions her in front of others, or when she goes against official royal orders, but... one can never be too sure. Especially after thirteen years of hearing her beg and beg for a scrap of her love. She can’t take advantage of that. One moment of forgiveness or mercy towards herself and soon she’ll be pining her to the ground while she sobs and begs her to stop, violating her and abusing her in the worst possible ways. She would never. The mere idea horrifies her, disgusts her to the point of nausea and nightmares. But this is the same thing. This are where her impulses are pushing her towards, aren’t they?

So she can’t kiss her. Even when Anna is cuping her face between her hands, so softly and lovingly when she doesn’t deserve her kindness. Even when the bags under her eyes grow from the exhaustion and lack of sleep and water, even when her eyes are red and puffy from crying and she knows she has to pull away from the one person she needs the most at this moment. Not... not to kiss her. Hold her. Just for a bit. Hold her fragile, trembling body for five minutes. But not even such an innocent request can go unpunished. This too is perverse. To long for her sister’s gentle comfort. She couldn’t let her know. Ever. And she never said a word. But Anna saw right through her not matter how hard she tried. Cut through her heart. She was trying to do her best. She was trying but it still wasn’t enough. it was never good enough. No, she needs to go. She needs to pull away before she hurts her. It’s her responsability, as the big sister, to put her foot down when Anna asks her to build a snowman despite the risks, and when she asks her if she feels the same way as she does.

Her back isn’t pushed against a wall. The door is closed, but not locked. Anna’s grip is soft. She could pull away. She could protect her little sister. She could still stop this. But the pain and love and tears in Anna’s eyes make her heart stop. She never meant to put so much sadness into her heart. Not again. She was just trying to... to protect her.

“You don’t have to protect me” Anna whispered. “I’m not afraid”

Elsa offered an undignified whimper. She’d been so good. She’d been a good girl. She had been strong and confident when setting limits before. She hadn’t shied away from explaining Anna why this was wrong. She hadn’t been too weak to have the conversation back then. Now? Now took five steps back and saw herself at eighteen, barring the doors and being scared, so scared. that she couldn’t even tell her sister that she loved her when she needed it the most.

Maybe this is when she started propperly crying.

Anna kissed her then. And she didn’t pull away even when she knew that she should. The soft brush of her lips was intoxicating. It sent jolts of electricity down her spine, up her skull and into her chest. Her heart raced. A deep blush crept up her neck and ears. This was her sister. She was kissing her little sister. This was wrong, so wrong, and... and she wanted it. And she liked it even though she shouldn’t. She couldn’t allow herself anything she ever wanted, or liked, or loved. As a child she learned that, if it made her feel good, then it was bad. And what she longed for the most was to be avoided at all cost.

But Anna couldn’t care less. And if she cared, well, Elsa didn’t have to know that. Not now. They had time to discuss their insecurities later. If Elsa knew Anna had second thoughts about their future and safety together sometimes, she’d throw herself off a balcony or something. She softly brushed the pad of her thumb over her cheeckbone. Her left hand descended to graze the skin of her neck, to hold it, to hold a strand of hair between two fingers and very gently stretch it. And do it again. And again. Her nails ocassionally brushing against the skin of her forehead. To tangle her fingers into her white hair and cup the back of her head before she got too nervous to do anything. She was nervous too.

And she somehow managed to make Elsa kiss back. It was... a lapse of judgment, perhaps. Elsa was trying her best not to give in (never enough, never enough), body taut like a bow string and lips closed tightly and firmly. But the feeling of Anna’s hands on her-- her lips on her-- it was all too much. Too much for her broken brain. She gave in. She gave up. Her hands remained balled into tense fists to her sides, but her mouth shifted along with Anna’s movements, letting her set the lead. This was her sister. Her little sister. And she was participating in such... degenerate, abusive, dangerous acts with her. She was destroying their relationship. They would never be able to go back and be sisters again after this. She was losing her sister.

And this snapped her out of her heartbroken paralysis.

Anna’s eyes widened. Elsa’s arms came to wrap around her body. They could see the fear in each other’s expressions, and when Anna asked what was wrong and Elsa voiced her concerns she just... she couldn’t stop. She started speaking and the words fell like a waterfall. She said that she didn’t want to hurt her. That she didn’t want to be a predator. That she didn’t want to abuse her. That she didn’t want to break her heart, but she was even more scared of breaking their relationship. That she was scared of losing her little sister.

Before she even finished that last sentence, Anna threw her arms around her neck and pulled her tight against her body.

“Oh, Elsa, don’t you get it?” She whispered in her ear. “You will always be my big sister. Nothing will change that” she pulled away to see her face, but her arms remained slack around her shoulders. Elsa looked at anywhere but her eyes. “Especially not this. I won’t let it” she pressed their foreheards together and Elsa felt tears return to her eyes. She released a shaky sigh and let her lids slide closed.

Their second kiss was nicer. Slower even than the first. More tentative. Maybe even more hesitant, but Anna is happy to go slow for her big sister, let her take her time. Let her let her guard down. In the end, she was the one being careful not to scare her sister away. But... there was still something endearing in her sister loving her so much and caring for her so much she was so careful with her, so gentle and protective. She just wished she didn’t think she had to protect her from herself.

The truth is that, still now, Elsa is hesitant to start kisses. Kissing her little sister isn’t like hugging her. She still considers the act so... forward, so provocative and daring she fears pushing her little sister too far. Thankfully for her, Anna is good at reading her moods. And she’s a pretty big fan of smooching, too, so it’s not like Elsa has to beg.

(When she wants kisses, she tends to get very shy and blushes like crazy. She might bring her face close to Anna’s in a very dissimulated way, pressing her nose to her shoulder or her forehead to her temple during lazy nights, reading on their bed and cuddling close together. For warmth, Anna says. Elsa wouldn’t know but she suspects there’s something else going on as well. Anna will just, very kindly brush her hair away from her face with a finger and tuck it behind her ear in a way that makes Elsa’s heart jump because she knows what’s coming next, and carefully hold her jaw to bring her closer until their lips meet).

#elsanna #fluff #angst #drabble #fanfic #hurt/comfort #icest #guilt #fic #fanfiction #arencest #headcanon turned into a fic #first kiss #ara writes #no proofreading this was writen at 6 am no sleep no nothing baby

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kingreywrites · 3 years

Note

Do you think Eugene was mad at Cass after she crushed him? Or more scared of her? Because I've taken some screenshots of Race to the spire, and he looks genuinely scared in these as he looks at Cass. Sure, Eugene is a tough and not easy to hurt guy, but I mean....

1. He did tell her he had a strict rule about dying in the same place twice, and while I know Cass didn't take it serious(she probably didn't even listen) and Eugene joked about his trauma again, I still think it'd kinda terrify him, he knows she is Gothel's daughter and yes, that makes mo difference, because she wasn't raised by her, but I bet he got flashbacks as Cass clenched her fist, since he remembers the other time a woman had tried killing him in that tower(well, Gothel succeeded)

2 C'mon, its his first real birthday and he almost dies on it? Wow Cass, nice birthday present!

3. Him being used against Rapunzel? Thats his worst nightmare, he hates it. He didn't know what would happen if Rapunzel agreed to whatever Cass wanted, he didn't know what she wanted. He didn't know what would happen to Rapunzel, just like back in the tower on Rapunzel's 18th birthday. And I don't think he really would've expected Cass to go that far

4. Imagine watching a person you see as your sister walking up to you, gripping your chin, being ready to squeeze you until you die, crushing your body just to get your partner to fight her like omg

Sorry for my rant I just think it's more deep than others do 😂

I can imagine Eugene actually being quite nervous about seeing Cass again after she did that to him, but I'm sure Cass apologized for it properly bc if not, I'll shift to Corona and 🧍🏻‍♀️🤛🏻

I love Cass but omg, not to mention that she drugged and kidnapped a child and tried to kill Rapunzel several times lmao she was really on drugs in S3 or smt 💀💀

I love using your ask box as a diary as you can probably tell

gdhhdjd it's okay please use it as a diary I love getting asks!

My answer is... gonna be pretty similar to what I was saying yesterday about his fight with the Brotherhood, which is that in universe, I honestly think he's fine. A little more wary, yes, maybe for a while, but not entirely traumatised by the event. I think the worst part for him was what you said in 3, which is being used as leverage against Rapunzel, because her getting hurt because of him scares him way more than him getting hurt at all, so he'd brush off what happened to him easily while still being mad over Rapunzel being in danger (but since Rapunzel didn't get hurt and even won that fight, I think it'd pass too. He's probably gonna try to make sure it can't happen again)

Now the thing is, as something that could happen between two real human beings, these events ARE traumatising, and definitely could make anyone scared. It is a terrible thing to go through, but like... Eugene getting thrown into a wall by Varian's automaton in SOTS is traumatising too, you know? Or him nearly getting killed by Edmund in Destinies Collide, or even him falling into a pit of snakes in Vigor The Visionary, etc etc etc. Like there are plenty of events in TTS which are fine by cartoon logic, and absolutely not fine in the real world, and this is one of them. It can definitely be interesting to delve into this more realistically, while being aware that all in all, in context, it is presented as bad but not traumatisingly bad

About Cass and apologies, I... wish they got enough time to make her interact with anyone else than Rapunzel in the finale. I'm not asking for her to go grovelling for forgiveness from door to door but just... one discussion, or at least one thing suggesting they had one. I wish more time was spent on the after of her villain arc, even with Rapunzel, because I think apologies should have gone both ways, and it could have been nice to have other conversations like with Cap or Adira! (Adira would have been great imo because their issues date back from s2, and I think it would have been cool to see Cass making amends with her, accepting that maybe they aren't friends (yet?) but they respect each other. Just, I think it could have shown that Cass is also in a better place mentally, and that she's ready to start her journey while not being hung up on the past)

Actually I'm okay with it not happening with Eugene btw! I think in the end he's more or less ready to refer to Rapunzel in this, and forgive her as long as Rapunzel does, because I think most of the anger he expresses is not really about Cass' actions and more about how she's hurting Rapunzel (see the very beginning of NTLP 😬). I do think they would need to rebuild trust between them but I don't think he'd be all that upset for himself, it's more like they spent one year apart, changed a lot as individuals, and they weren't BFF to begin with, so their relationship is far from being really solid at that point

SORRY I'M RAMBLING GHSJDJD i have a LOT of thoughts about the way one can approach trauma in cartoon characters, and what factors are important to keep in mind. While I'm here I'd also say be wary of very biased and dramatised formulations like "Cass drugged a minor" to say "Cass gave Varian truth serum", because it's obviously said in a way to make you think of Cass as this evil, nearly predatory woman when in the context of the episode it's truly... not a big deal, and not meant to be taken as such. It lasts like one minute? And I know when I first read Cass drugged a minor I was like "what when where???" because it's definitely reframing it to make it sound unforgivable gshjdkd

That's why I keep insisting on balancing cartoon logic/real world logic btw, because I know I have a lot of feelings about Eugene, but I also don't want to completely villainize other characters for his sake! It's all interesting to read about in fanworks, but sometimes it turns into character bashing and it's less fun to read 😅

#this got very long asfshjd so i added a read more #i hope i don't sound preachy 😭😭 that's just how i go about thinking about this!! but there's different takes i'm sure #thanks for the ask!! sorry i got sidetracked ghdjdjdj #ask

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btssmutficslovingfan01 · 3 years

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Friendly Encounters- Chapter Four

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: A friend challenges you to go out of your comfort zone and talk to one of the cute boys at the café. However, after attempting to flirt with one of them, they reveal that they are in a relationship with each other. It’s fine, though, because you’re all friends now!

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: Romance

𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: Smut

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Graphic depictions of sex, Threesome, Fingering, Blowjobs

𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈: 5.6k+

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Jimin x Yoongi x Reader

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⇤Prev | Next⇥

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Yoongi is greeted with quite a sight. What started as an innocent lip-to-lip touch turned into a lustful, hazy make-out session while he wasn’t looking. He noticed the two of you sharing a small moment, so he thought he’d encourage it, jokingly telling you to kiss not expecting you to actually take it any further. But now, seeing the two of you has flicked a switch within him.

Something more primal and carnal grows, his thirst for you, specifically, has reached the breaking point. You just had to go into it, with tongue. Speaking of, he can see your tongue. It’s inside Jimin’s mouth, practically caressing his lips. To Yoongi, you look erotic even though you have no freaking clue what you’re doing.

“Ah...sorry for leaving you out Yoongz, come here…?” Jimin turns to see a predatory look on Yoongi’s face. He wants you, wants you so bad. And Jimin certainly didn’t expect to see the large bulge in his pants struggling to stay put. In fact, as he shifts his weight, his dick perks up, erect as can be.

“Hyung…” Now Jimin’s mouth is watering. He saw Yoongi’s little problem and he’s also recovering from making out with the most attractive woman in the world. He needs some milk.

“I don’t know if I can hold back...Y/N, do you mind retiring early? I know it’s late, and you probably-”

“I’ll stay!” You know that you’re on thin ice. No man has ever looked at you the way that your boyfriends are staring at you right now. You want them to be proud, you want to show them that you are not a naive little girl. If they can be real men for you, the least you can do is be a good woman.

“I don’t think you understand what you’ve gotten yourself into. We want you, in a very, very inappropriate way.” Jimin whispers seductively into your ear.

You don’t know what’s gotten into him. He never talked down to you before so why is he….and then it hits you. They think you know nothing about sex. They were right, but you didn’t want them to point it out in front of you.

“I know what you mean. You think I haven’t had dirty thoughts about you before?” Jimin’s eyes widen as you run your fingers through your hair, and then you start leaning in, becoming bolder by the second.

“Oh sweetie, we’ve heard you moaning our names in your sleep before. Don’t pretend like you weren’t thirsting after us last week when you were on your period,” You blush slightly, surprised that Jimin heard you whimpering his name. You were desperate, craving them in fact. You’d never craved anything so bad, especially when they were right in front of you like a whole freaking buffet of man-food.

“Kiss him, Y/N.” Jimin’s command has you pouncing on his boyfriend, and your heated kiss turns into a lustful, horny hand-wandering body inspection. You never felt so sexy before as Yoongi bites your bottom lip and has you parting your lips in awe. He groans seductively while locking eyes with you and then he pins you down in his bed.

His body is grinding against yours, the fabric of his jeans getting in the way as you palm him, reaching down boldly as he kissed you and pulled your hair taut. You do this for a while, before Jimin decides it’s time for him to steal the spotlight. He immediately takes to kissing your lips, taking in the same taste of strawberry lip balm that you applied on your lips earlier. He winks at his boyfriend before moving a bit further down and unbuckling his boyfriend’s pants. You watch in awe with parted lips as Jimin moves gracefully.

He’s suddenly on all fours, sucking and nipping at Yoongi’s dick as you just watch, drenched in your own pool of arousal. “Mmm, want a taste Y/N?” He looks over at you, his eyes darkened with lust. You hesitantly bring your face down to meet his cock, brushing your fingers over his perfectly sculpted dick before giving the tip a test lick. Judging by the way Yoongi threw his head back and pushed your head further down while moaning “Ahhhh,” You can tell you did it right the first time. Jimin watches his boyfriend come undone in front of you, a sadistic smile forming on his face.

“Do you like the way she eats your cock, hyung?” Jimin looks so dubious, pushing the hair out of his boyfriend’s eyes as you fuck him with your mouth.

“It’s sooo good, Jiminie. Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum. Y/N, do you think you can swallow it or do you feel comfortable with me cumming in my pants?” You laugh at his inquiry. There’s no way you were going to waste a drop of his cum. His dick is heaven sent, with a perfectly shaped tip, colored tan with a pink undertone, and an even darker shadow. You didn’t think your first real-life dick would look so...beautiful, but it does. Hairless and all. Was it at least 7 inches? You weren’t going to judge. He’s still on the bigger side. You can hear the boys in your 6th grade class laughing at the jokes about asian men having small penises. They’d probably all be speechless by now. If only they can see this dick in front of you. They would probably be jealous.

“Damn.” Jimin makes out with his boyfriend hotly as you slurp up the last remaining cum, and then you finally lick the jizz off your lips, before sitting up to stretch your tired neck.

“You taste really good, Yoongi. Now do you want me to leave or--”

“You must be crazy if you think we’re letting you go, kitten. What kind of a boyfriend would I be if I let you leave without returning the favor, huh? Clothes off, let us see all of you, Y/N.” You didn’t know your name could sound so sexy. Maybe it’s just Yoongi; He has that effect on people.

“I think I just came in my pants. You’re sooo fucking sexy, babygirl.” Jimin’s words already have you dripping like a river. You were already wet enough from seeing them kiss, and now you’re about to be feasted upon, like a fucking meal. Yoongi’s tongue is already lapping skillfully at your folds, and you’re in too much pleasure to even care about your half-naked state.

Jimin pulls off your bra quickly, darting his tongue over and under your breasts before he gently caresses your nipples. With his excessive care, and Yoongi’s expert tongue, you’re already halfway to your climax. You just need an extra push, you need speed.

“F-faster, I need to cum, please just let me cum!” You beg for it like a slut, and Yoongi, being the gentleman he is, gives it to you. You moan in pleasure as he sucks your clit and then after abusing your pearl, he gives his attention to your core. You come undone with his finger inside of you, white substance coating his sexy hands as he lifts it up for Jimin to taste.

The gesture itself is so erotic, it makes you cum once more.

“She’s like a water fountain. Mmm tastes good too. You wanna try, kitten?” You shake your head, blushing as Yoongi digs his finger around your pussy and hands your cum to Jimin so he and Jimin can eat it like cotton candy. You are not a buffet but they sure fucking know how to treat you like one.

Jimin looks up to you for consent, and you, being slightly hazed from your last orgasm, open your legs and buck your hips up towards his lips. His plump, juicy lips quickly take to your opening, kissing you softly before sneaking his tongue down to your warm cavern.

You invite him in, encouraging him to eat you out until you have your second orgasm. Needless to say, Jimin does not disappoint. With his boyfriend encouraging him from the side and whispering dirty words in your ears, you know you’re closer than ever to your climax.

“Kiss me, please, let me feel something, I need to be filled!” That was your mistake.

Yoongi’s carnal nature takes over, as he presses a rough kiss against your lips, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers and making you whine in pain and pleasure. Jimin continues his attack on your pussy, solely using his tongue to make you come.

“Want to get stuffed with our cocks, kitten? I bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?” You nod, taking his dick into your mouth with a hungry look in your eyes. You didn’t realize how much you were craving him before this, now as he snaps his hips into your mouth, you groan, bucking Jimin’s pretty tongue further into your weeping entrance. You look down and see your glistening labia as your blue-haired boyfriend gently separates your pussy lips so he can examine the extremity of your wetness. And sure enough, you were dripping.

“Are you going to cum? All over his pretty lips?” It’s almost as if Yoongi can read your mind, as he slows down with his thrusts so Jimin can speed up with his work. They’re both playing with you, and you hate how you love the teasing. It just makes the sex all the more exhilirating. Oh goodness, does this mean that you’re as bad as Jasmine now? Sleeping with two guys and getting pleasure from it...you feel dirty. You push the thoughts to the back of your head, concentrating on the man between your legs, watching as he buried himself in your pussy. You bring a hand down and run your fingers through his soft hair, surprised that it was staying in place despite him being hunched over you.

“Cum for us, baby. I know you’re close just-” Jimin lets out a strangled moan as he ruts against the mattress, his lips latched around your pink nub, determined to make you climax. His efforts don’t go to waste, as you quickly come undone, your cheeks flushed pink as Yoongi allows you to breathe before you continue to suck his sweet dick.

“Her lips, she’s so perfect for us Jiminie, so fucking perfect.” You moan at his words, how he praises you effortlessly as you bob your head back and forth on his cock.

“Here sweetheart, this’ll be more comfortable for your neck.” Jimin’s suggestion welcomes a small smile on your fatigued face as you change positions, so that Yoongi is sitting down and you are lying on your stomach.

Jimin holds your hair back as you suck his boyfriend, eating his dick, determined to return the favor. He fingered you on the couch that one day before the concert. He introduced you to his ex and even he confirmed you were good enough for a guy like him. You want to be amazing. You want to be worthy of his affection.

“F-fuck, Chim, Y/N, I’m close,” Yoongi throws his head back in a growl-like moan. He sounds like he’s in pain but that’s probably his throat cracking from being so loud. “Ahhhh, I’m gonna blow, Y/N!”

You don’t stop, smiling into his cock as you swallow his juices, sucking him dry. Jimin gawks, watching more with confusion than disgust.

“What was that?! Hyung, you never moan like that when I blow you!” You sigh, panting heavily as Yoongi wipes some cum off your cheeks, smiling at you with a look that you’ve seen him reserve for Jimin. The rare gummy smile of genuine happiness; not to be confused with the gummy smile period. There is a difference.

“What can I say? She’s just that good. Don’t get me wrong, you’re still amazing at sucking cock but she’s got a talent. Your mouth feels so good, kitten.” You blush at his nickname for you, but then you remember he was just ramming his cock into your throat just a moment ago.

“Thanks daddy.” Silence fills the room.

“Say that again.” Yoongi licks his lips, making you feel bolder as you sit up, cheeks puffy as you regain your stamina, a newfound confidence about you since you had amazing sex with two hot insanely attractive guys, who happen to be your boyfriends. You have boyfriends now.

“I said thanks, daddy.” You wink.

“Shit...call me that from now on.” Jimin just laughs at his boyfriend’s restlessness, you really did a double on him.

“Okay...daddy.” You lie down, wrapped in his arms as he holds you, breathing steadily against the nape of your neck, as Jimin sneaks his arms around you from your right.

“Welcome to the relationship, Y/N.” Jimin’s lips form a sexy pout as you turn back only to find yourself amidst another heated kiss. Yoongi just watches you with fondness as he gives your hand a kiss as well.

“Wait, what about…?” You look down at your dripping entrance. Jimin, as if he read your mind, says,

“It’s okay, we know you’re a virgin and we want your first time to be special before we get ahead of ourselves.” Of course they’d know. At least they made you cum without thinking twice. You smile to yourself as Jimin pulls you up so that he could use you as a pillow.

Yoongi spoons you as Jimin lies on top of you. You’ve never felt so loved in your life. Heck, you would do anything for these two. Screw an arranged marriage. The only thing that’ll be arranged in this relationship is the sex. That sounded bad, admittedly, but it’s true! Your mom would be horrified if she found out you were doing more than kissing or holding hands. That’s what you’ve been doing anyways, ever since you started dating a month ago. Most people don’t wait as long as you did for sex.

༻• Monday, At The Café •༺

“Guyzzz, when do you get off work?” You whine like a child, as Jin watches you with raised eyebrows. You cough, pretending to choke on your drink as the owner passes.

“Sorry, Y/N. We’re really busy today. It’s hot out today, so people are really coming in for some iced tea.” Jimin bows his head in apology as you observe your blond boyfriend working behind the counter. All the drooling women are surrounding him, forming a wall of sorts as they watch him mix the drinks and serve them to customers. He’s in his element, doing something he likes and pleasing the people. He’s easy on the eyes.

“I don’t think it’s the iced tea.” You narrow your eyes at Yoongi, as Jimin follows your gaze and turns around to see his boyfriend winking at another satisfied customer. You saw her slip him her number, but surely he couldn’t take it-he just grabbed it. He slipped it into his pocket.

“Y/N, do you have any plans this weekend?” You raise an eyebrow at your boyfriend as his nostrils flare out in anger. You can tell this isn’t going to be good for Yoongi, but it might be fun for you.

“No, not real-”

“Great, because I’m abducting you. Spring Break is next week, right? I’m sure your mom won’t mind if I’m accompanying you.” You can’t really argue with him. He’s never been so pushy before, but you like it. Assertiveness looks good on Jimin and no one can prove you wrong.

“Why all of a sudden?” Your question puts a smirk on his face, but when you see his fists clenching when he sneaks glances at Yoongi, you know the answer. He’s so cunning, actually planning all of this out on the spot. But you have a feeling your trip will be memorable, especially while you’re alone with your boyfriends.

“Don’t you wanna punish him? Make him remember who he belongs to?” You didn’t expect this turn of events. Jimin’s a top? A dom? A switch? Whatever he is, he’s hot. So hot it makes you sweat in your seat. Jimin pushes your drink towards you, his gaze lingering on you longer than it has to as Jin starts suspecting. Jin doesn’t know about you three, but he smells something fishy.

“Jiminie, not now...what good will I be if I’ve never-”

“That’s your problem, you’ve no faith in yourself. You’re so sexy, with those long legs and those pretty pink lips. Hell, your pus-sycat is cute too, cute kitten!” Jimin changes the subject when Jin stops by your table.

“We’re closing in 10. Make your last rounds. Serve the customers, Yeon Kimin.” He pats him on the back before heading into the storage room in the back.

You hate how observant the boss can be, especially in these situations. He doesn’t have much time though, as he’s too busy with taking orders, making drinks, serving drinks, and taking care of the cafe with Yoonmin.

You do wonder what Yoongi was thinking of doing with that girl’s number. He looked ecstatic when she slipped him that card. He rarely smiles at other people. When you met him, you thought he was a little bit of a jerk, even. But now things have changed. You’ve all changed as people.

There is a dark thought lingering in the back of your mind, warning you that you might get hurt if you get too close to the fire. At this rate, Yoongi might just end up breaking your heart in two if you open up to him. What if he changes so much that he just leaves? You don’t wanna think of an unhappy ending to your fairy-tale like relationship.

Not everything is rainbows and kittens, even if your mom accepts it. Your father is going to force you to marry someone he picks and then you’ll be back at square one. You don’t even know what to do, sipping your water and biting your straw until your blue-haired boyfriend joins you at your table again.

“You seem a bit stressed. Is everything okay? I hope you aren’t regretting that night…” His cheeks turn red as he looks at you with half-moon eyes.

“No, not at all, Chim. I’m just worried about my dad. He might be looking for a guy to set me up with right now. I know he’s on the other side of the world, but you saw how he treated you and Yoongi when he thought you were gay.” You put your head in your hands, apologizing on his behalf.

“It’s okay, you didn’t do anything wrong. Your father is traditional and old-fashioned. The same as my parents. Wait a second…” You can almost see the gears turning in Jimin’s head as a lightbulb goes off. You look to him for an answer. “What if there was a way to make both our families happy? My parents are super rich and they wanted me to marry a girl, any girl, and your father wants you to marry into wealth, right?” You nod, blushing from embarrassment. “Why not set ourselves up together? Yoongi can stay with us, and we can be an unofficial married triad. All three of us together.”

You bite your teeth, crossing your legs under the table as Jimin wets his dry lips in anticipation.

“That’s unfair to Yoongi, Jimin. What would he say?”

“Let’s ask him.” Jimin calls him over, and he sits down next to you, Jin watching you with puzzled eyes as you keep your voices down low as possible. After a long detailed briefing of the problem and Jimin’s proposal, Yoongi finally makes up his mind.

“That sounds good. We should do it.” Your eyes widen as Jimin’s lips curl into a smile. His pearly white teeth show as he grins from ear-to-ear, hugging you both with enthusiasm.

“Yes! What did I tell you? It’s a good plan. This way, we can please our families while keeping our relationship intact.” You can’t help but notice the twitch in Yoongi’s smile as he looks at you both. It’s weird, he looks like he's faking it.

“Yoongi, can we talk?” You ask him to wait up as he heads outside to throw the trash away.

“What is it?” He sounds so stern. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was mad at you.

“Are you really okay with Jimin’s marriage idea?”

“Of course I am, now go inside, he’s waiting.”

“Yoongi. Yoongz, baby, daddy,” The last word gets his attention. “I love you both, and this couple act we’re doing isn’t going to hurt our relationship in any way, okay?” He nods, smiling as you lean in to kiss him.

He kisses back aggressively, surprising you with his change of pace as he begins making out with you in the back of the alleyway.

“If we had already done it, I would be fucking you right now against the wall. But your purity is more important to me. It’s better in the comfort of our own home, you know?” You smile at your boyfriend as he pulls you into the shop again, surprised to meet eyes with his boss.

“I don’t know what’s going on here, but whatever it is, I hope it won’t distract you from work.” You let out a small giggle as Yoongi puts his arm around you, while murmuring, “Oh what the hell,” under his breath.

“Jimin, get your sweet ass over here!” Yoongi whistles as Jimin swishes his perfect rump to the beat of the music playing in his headphones.

“What’s up?” He gives you a small smile before looking at Jin with a poker face. Yoongi sloppily lays an arm around him, pulling the man close to his chest before looking at Jin with a sharp glare. His gaze is enough to make anyone tremble in his presence, but Jin is less than intimidated by the man he’s known so long.

“We’re all in a poly relationship so you better get used to it, and if you don’t,” He slurs, “I’ll quit.” Jin lets out a long windshield wiper laugh that brings him to tears before he wipes away the liquid from his eyes, staring at Yoongi directly.

“Good joke, you’re the best joker around, Yoongi. We all know you wouldn’t do that. And what reason do I have for not accepting your relationship? It’s not as if it’s a new concept. I know a lot of triads and people who are openly dating each other. And I’m not talking about an open relationship, which I assume yours isn’t?” Jimin shakes his head, allowing Yoongi to take a break while answering questions for him.

“All you need to know is that we’re dating, all three of us. Even if someone says otherwise, just listen to what I tell you directly.” Jimin alludes to the fact about your marriage in the future, which Jin has no knowledge about.

“Let’s head home?” Now Jin knew about the three of you being housemates. He found it quite funny that you were acting awkward just after the bomb was dropped. To you, it’s your first serious relationship ever. It’s not like you’re just flirting with them for fun. You’d like to think that your relationship will be a part of your future, long-term.

It doesn’t really hit you until you get home. You don’t know how your father will take the deal. He is very particular with his selections, but judging from what Jimin told you about his family, they seem to tick everything off in your checklist of qualifications.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at your dad for being so materialistic. Then again, he still views women as property of their husbands and servants.

You’re actually relieved that Jimin’s background is like this. It’s sad but it’ll benefit you in the end. You are saving your lives, and Yoongi.

Speaking of Yoongi, you and Jimin have already started planning for your trip over your spring break. He’s made a list of toys and educated you on the world of pleasure so much throughout these past few days.

After your first time with them, you were able to cum from simple oral fixation and not from penetrative action.

But Jimin opened up your eyes, even going as far as showing you some of his biggest stress relievers. One thing you weren’t allowed to do was share his toys. You could look at them, and if he was in the mood, he would let you watch him use them.

Unfortunately, he hasn’t had the time nor patience to grant you that luxury. School hasn’t been exactly easy on you either, since you had final exams coming up at the end of the year and teachers quickly assigned new material and weren’t helping your case. Your big review guide isn’t much of a help either, since you know the study guide never reflects the test.

You’re excited for Spring Break, and Jimin will make sure to take his time with you then. For now, you’ll just have to deal with sleeping in your own bed like a big girl, and working hard in school.

༻• Tuesday, At Home •༺

“Honey, I’m home~” You hear his honeyed voice as he makes his way into your room, holding a box in his left hand.

“Jiminie! I thought you wouldn’t be home until after 8, it’s only 5!” You keep your eyes on the clock. Your boyfriend kisses your cheek gently before placing the box on your desk.

“I lied, I wanted to surprise you with a lesson,” You raise an eyebrow as he pushes the box to you. “It’s a care package with a twist, in case you were wondering.” Your eyes widen as the first thing you see is a sky blue vibrator.

The next thing is a dildo, you know what it is from its structure, being that it is a literal makeshift dick. The last thing you notice is the lingerie set that Jimin carefully packed into the box. You reach in, and pull it out.

You have a black thong complete with a black bra that has an elegant design with lace and jewels studded to the lining. Your boyfriend licks his plump lips, before leaning on the desk, with his arms crossed.

“What is all this?” You inquire, mesmerized as you find a pair of black thigh-high stockings to complete the look.

“This is what you’re going to wear underneath your clothes when we go on our little trip to punish Yoongi. And those,” He gestures to the sex toys, “Are just examples of some of the things we’re gonna use on him. There’s a huge problem though, you haven’t used them yourself, so you don’t know how it feels. While he’s distracted with work and other projects, I’m gonna help you learn the ways of a solo act, and after you become a pro, we can work on dom/sub dynamics.”

You feel strangely excited, the hairs on the back of your neck all standing up as Jimin tells you what his plan is.

“What is this? Some sort of class? Jimin, I don’t have time for this, what about school?” He taps his foot on the ground, growing impatient with your ignorance.

“I didn’t say it would interfere with your schedule, Y/N. Besides, I thought you’d be excited to spend some more time with me.” Jimin was feeling lonely. You were starting to get closer with Yoongi and he was starting to feel left out.

“Jimin, is that what this is about? If you were just feeling left out you could’ve told me.” He smirks mischievously.

“That’s why I got all of this stuff ready. I want to be the one to introduce you to the world of sex, princess.” You shudder at his nickname for you as he kisses your ear, slowly.

“You wanna start now? I just realized I finished all my homework.” You switch your computer off, standing up from your chair and pulling his hair taut as you pull him in for a heated kiss. Your clothes start coming off, Jimin only taking off his shirt.

“Mmmm, your lip balm tastes so good. Get on the bed for me, baby, I’ll eat you out.” You shake your head, refusing Jimin abruptly.

“I wanna return the favor. You’re too good to me, Chim.” He finds himself suddenly bending to your will as you palm him through his tight skinny jeans.

“Ahhh, you’re so evil. Fuck, I feel like I’m about to explode.” Your eyes widen when you see Jimin’s bulge tighten in his pants to a point where it looks like blood flow is getting cut off. You let out a surprised gasp when his cock springs up several inches in the air resting on his belly, fully erect. He wiggles out of his pants, and kicks them aside.

“You taste so sweet.” You gather his precum on your finger, before swallowing the tiny ball and smacking your lips together before turning your attention back to his dick. He groans, shuddering at your touch as you close your fingers around him in a fist before you slide your tongue across his slit, making him whine like a distressed kitten.

“Suck it, Y/N. I know you’re a big girl and that you’re capable of-SHIT SHIT SHIT!” His guttural moans are enough to flick a more primal switch in you, making you dick-starved as you take him into your mouth with force. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last, please!” You let out a tiny groan of your own before you slurp up Jimin’s juices and clean him with your tongue.

“That was so hot. Shit, I think I’m the one who needs lessons now-You really know how to suck a man off. No wonder Yoongi was so caught up in you. It all makes sense,” You blush as your boyfriend praises you, panting heavily as you catch your breath. “Now let’s get those panties off.” You let out a yelp as Jimin suddenly pulls your underwear off, his index finger rubbing your clit so he could test how wet you are.

“Jimin, it hurts. I want you so bad!” You feel hot, and the only way to fix it is if your boyfriend gave into your demands.

“I know, baby. You want my fingers?” You nod, letting out staggered breaths as Jimin slowly slid a finger between your pussy-lips, separating them with his other hand. Your entire body is on fire from the filthy position you’re in, with Jimin languidly fingering you between your open legs as you keep your legs wide open for the man with disheveled faded blue hair.

He licks his glossy lips, obviously his mouth salivating from seeing your drenched cunt throbbing for his digits. You fall back on the mattress, unmoving as Jimin fucks his fingers deeper into you while rubbing your clit simultaneously. The sensation is too good, enough to push you over the edge. You gasp as his tongue replaces his fingers, the wet muscle darting up your slit and convulsing between your walls as he flexes his tongue.

“Jimin! I’m so close, please, make me cum!” You let out a tumultuous moan, lost in your own pleasure to see that he’s pulled away completely, depriving you of your orgasm. “No!” You screech as he comes back, his footsteps nearing the edge of the bed as you hear a small “click” and a buzzing of what sounds to be a machine.

“This is a good time to try out a toy. How about you stay right where you are, and don’t even think of touching yourself. I’m going to run out, and you...you know what, I’m gonna tie your hands.” Your juices are gushing from your entrance, signalling that you were close. You let out a whine of protest as Jimin ties your arms over your head before sticking the strange vibrator tool right in your g-spot. You can’t cum, since you’re fully plugged in.

Jimin leaves for what feels like hours but you know it’s only five minutes. He comes back with whipped cream in hand and you shiver as he touches you, and after (painfully) slowly taking the vibrator out, cum streams out of you, making you hang your head down in shame. Jimin finds it amusing, kissing your cheek and untying you before you pounce on him. He lets you kiss him, sensing your desperation after he’d only left you for a while.

“Jimin, I want you to fuck me.” He blushes, as you kiss his Adam's apple gently.

“Kitten, are you sure about that? It’s a big step forward, actually a huge jump-”

“I’m ready. I’ve been prepped, came twice, and I think I can take it. Oh gosh, I really want it.” The older man is experienced, so you won’t have any trouble with navigating, but he has a fear that he’ll hurt you and your first time will end up being a painful experience rather than a pleasurable one.

“You want me that bad?” You hum against his neck as he gathers a web of cum on his fingers and tastes you. You see his bulge standing tall in his pants and you only wish to relieve him of his pain.

“Jimin, please wreck me.” He leans in, breathing against your ear as you make your naked self comfortable on his lap. You let out a sigh as you find comfort on his thigh, grinding your hips against his rock-hard length as he stares at you with malice.

“That’s it, gonna ride my thigh and cum for me like a good kitten? You’re such a naughty girl, making me hard like this.” You continue grinding on his lap until he stops you. Just as you’re about to open your mouth, there’s a knock at the door.

Your first thought is that it’s Yoongi, but you remember Jimin telling you he was busy. You also know your mother is working late tonight as well.

“Y/N! You have some explaining to do.” You gulp. That didn’t sound like Yoongi nor your mother. Worse, that voice belongs to your father.

#yoongi x reader #jimin x reader #yoongi x jimin #yoongi x jimin x reader #yoonmin #cafeau #barista #bts smut #18+#Poly BTS #Poly

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damienthepious · 4 years

Text

INTERNALLY I AM SCREAMING EXTERNALLY I AM ALSO SCREAMING,,, BUT LET’S HAVE SOME BOUQUET WHILE I SCREAM INTO A PILLOW.

Even With Missteps (chapter 3)

[ch 1] [ch 2] [ao3] [ch 4] [???]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Sir Damien/Rilla, Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla, Lord Arum/Sir Damien, Lord Arum/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla, (other characters mentioned)

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Dancing, Costume Parties & Masquerades

Summary: There is a masquerade ball in the Citadel tonight. Every knight and citizen has turned out, and all of them bear disguises of monstrosity. What better time could there be, for a monster who needs to find a way inside?

Chapter Summary We are attempting to be fair. There is still at least one dance that is owed.

Chapter Notes: i'm so fucking gay y'all. can i mention again this was supposed to just be a one shot? how LONG is this now? oh my god. anyway now there HAS to be a fourth chapter, because i completely changed how this chapter was supposed to end and things have gone entirely off the rails again. this is a mess. hit me up on tumblr if you wanna know how this was SUPPOSED to end. also please go listen to the new episode i'm DYING.

Arum descends, his mind still roiling and disbelieving, and his claws click lightly on the stone when he reaches the balcony level again, but there is no one close enough by to hear, or to see. No sharp-eyed attendees attend his presence, this time.

As such… Arum indulges one more moment. He glances towards the window above, and through the darkness and the curtains he can see nothing in truth. He imagines shadows in the room, at least. Imagines the shape of his honeysuckle, awkwardly explaining his absence to a colleague, explaining that he had, of course, found nothing of interest in the Queen’s chambers.

... Arum still does not understand.

Many things, if he is being honest with himself, as he so rarely is. He does not understand Sir Damien, does not understand this sharp-fanged little basilisk with his lilting voice and his gentle eyes, his sharp arrows and his bright laugh. He does not understand why a knight would ever, ever suffer a monster to live. Not under any circumstances, let alone such ridiculous ones as these.

Humans. Baffling creatures… though, not quite in the way Arum expected them to be. He turns his attention towards a sharp noise back inside, looking through the sheer curtains into the party, and he watches a pair of human hatchlings - children, he thinks - laughing uncontrollably beneath their chickenfeather-harpy costumes as they swing each other's hands back and forth. Arum shakes his head quickly, turning away, and then he gives the window above one more glance.

Arum does not understand his own reactions, either. The knight failed to perform his duty- but Arum has done much the same. The knight should be dead.

Two dances, and Arum is made a fool. He scoffs at himself, digging the claws of his hidden lower hands into his midsection to try to suppress the way his stomach jumps in discomfort, and… he is still staring at the window above. He does not have time for this. He does not. He should already be on his way home in the understanding that this evening has been a failure, or better yet he should be looking for some way to salvage this, some other alternative focus he can select for his prototype. There is no cause for him to waste time in musing, he can worry over his own stupidity in the Keep, when he is safe-

“Hey there, stranger.”

Arum whirls on the voice, realizing quite a bit too late that there is a human closer than is comfortable. He manages, by a fraction, not to hiss instinctively. His cover may not be completely intact anymore, but that is no reason to toss it out while it may still serve him.

The human is small, though not as small as his basilisk- as Sir Damien, rather. Her mask is brassy, with a sharp pointed beak over her nose, beneath which she is grinning at Arum in a way that would put him instantly on edge, were he not already tense to begin with.

She is also, decidedly, in the way of his current escape route, back through the party.

“Er- greetings,” Arum awkwardly grates out, and the human’s grin, if anything, tilts wider. “If you will pardon-”

“Nah, I don’t think I’ll pardon. Care for a dance?”

Arum stares down at her, wondering if the sheer force of his confusion and irritation are properly conveyed through his mask. “No.”

She raises an eyebrow, shimmering red and gold dusting her dark skin in stylized flaming streaks. “No?”

“I am leaving, I do not have-”

“It’s Arum, right?”

Arum flinches, then freezes, and he is glad, at least, that the human cannot see his panicked face.

“Excuse me?” he barks. “Who- how-”

“You’re the one who stole a dance from my partner earlier tonight,” she says slyly, coming closer while he stands stock-still.

“You-” Arum swallows uncomfortably, glancing again towards the window above for a moment, but he still cannot see anyone looking down towards the balcony. “You are attached to h- Sir Damien, then?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” She shrugs. “So what I figure is, you technically stole a dance that should have been mine, right?”

“I- I don’t have time for-”

“So you owe me a dance, then.”

“What?”

She grins, the sharp white curve of her teeth intersected by the triangle of her mask’s beak, and she edges even closer, and despite Arum’s instincts he knows he cannot back away or else it will show too much weakness in front of this little creature. He cannot obey the traitorous instincts urging him to lean into her mammal heat, either. Obviously.

“I said you owe me a dance, Arum, and you look like you’re about to bolt out of here, so I know I gotta take what’s owed to me now or I might not get another chance.” Her smile shifts a little less predatory, a little more warm instead of hot, and she lifts her hand towards him in request. “Just one dance. One dance won’t kill you, will it?”

Arum does not look back up towards the window above, does not look over the human’s shoulder to see if any knights are coming their way, and thinks that perhaps, just maybe, it might kill him. There is something undeniable in her eyes, though. Something in the certainty of her posture and her smile. And-

Dancing with Damien had been… not unpleasant. It stands to reason that if this little creature is his usual partner, it is likely that she will be similarly skilled, will she not? And Arum may have already settled his debts, so to speak, with Damien, but this human cannot possibly know that, and- and Arum still needs to cross the room again, to make his escape. None would expect a thief to return to cavorting and revelry after he was nearly found out, would they?

He has waited too long in the consideration. The human leans just slightly closer, and one of her hands reaches, brushing her gloved fingers (still impossibly hot, a phoenix she is dressed as and she has equal fire, certainly-) against his own, and without thinking he spreads his fingers, allowing her to take his hand properly.

Well. The decision is made, though he is still not convinced that he is the one who made it.

Arum steps closer, breath leaving him in a sigh, and her eyes go bright and delighted above the curve of her beak.

“I suppose… if the fairness matters so much, if settling the score is so very important to you, little phoenix-”

Her other hand moves to the correct place upon him, but then slips a past that, just skirting the edge of propriety as she slots herself a little too close, very much too warm. Must all these creatures run hearth-hot?

“I’m not, really. Concerned with the fairness, I mean,” she says with a wicked little grin as they begin to sway together. “It is a really good excuse, though.”

Arum-

Laughs. A helpless little breath of it escapes between his teeth, and apparently that encourages her because her grin grows wider.

Arum's estimations of her dancing prowess were correct, in a way. She is not unpleasant to dance with, as Damien was not, but her style is markedly different. Damien dances with a certain elegance, a feeling of controlled grace. This little phoenix is skilled, but there is more joy here than elegance by a wide gulf. She knows precisely what she is doing, but she clearly intends to enjoy every step, regardless of propriety or decorum. An admirable attitude, so far as Arum is concerned.

"You are unconcerned with your former partner as well, then?" Arum asks, because it seems like something a human would care about. The little phoenix gives her own laugh, tossing her head back to do so, and the unselfconsciousness of the gesture makes Arum's frill shiver with the desire to flare beneath the constriction of his mask.

"I'm almost always concerned about Damien in one way or the other," she says with a shrug that shifts her skin against Arum's palm. "But considering that he's run off from a party to do work - again - I don't think he'll mind too much if I find someone else to entertain me for a little while."

"I am not entertainment," Arum grumbles, but his footwork does not falter with the complaint, and the way her eyes glint as she smirks up at him makes the claim feel rather flimsy.

"Besides," she continues, entirely ignoring his protest, "it'd be pretty hypocritical for him to complain about it, don't you think?"

"I- I suppose-"

"He knows how to pick a partner, though," she says, and there is no small degree of smugness in her tone as she guides their steps in a gentle sort of circle around the wide balcony. "You're kind of a natural at this."

"O-oh," Arum says. While they dance, he cannot exactly look away from her, cannot distract himself from the warmth of her body or her words. "Oh. Th-thank you." He pauses, attempting for a long moment to focus more on his surroundings, and then he processes the words the human spoke aside from her compliment. "Though- though, I picked him, not the other way around."

"Hm," she says. "Out of curiosity, why did you pick him, anyway? It's a big sort of party, lots of folks to choose from…"

"He-" Arum stutters, but there do not appear to be any further words ready to rise to his tongue.

You are the only monster here who has interested me in the least. Those were the words he whispered into Sir Damien's ear when first he gathered the knight into his arms, and- and Arum, at the time, had assumed himself a liar. He is unsure, now, if he had been, but that memory-

Elegant little basilisk with longing in his eyes, still amidst a sea of movement, drawing Arum's eyes as bright as the rising sun-

"He has… an air about him," Arum settles on, his voice stilted and soft, and the little phoenix give a much more gentle smile, then.

"He really does, doesn't he?" She sighs then, and when she glances back up at him from beneath her mask her expression is wry. "Alright, okay, I should stop teasing. It's not like I can blame you for being charmed- or for being charming."

Arum barks a laugh, too surprised to do anything else. "Charming-"

"You were gonna leave before I interrupted, right? Let me dance you across the ballroom, at least. Then you can just take off, if you'd like."

Arum blinks down at her, utterly baffled. "Are all-" he pauses, "people from this Citadel like the pair of you?" Arum asks incredulously, tilting his head as he looks down at the creature in his arms.

"Like what?"

Arum opens his mouth, then snaps it shut again quickly.

Compelling, he had nearly hissed. Enthralling. Fascinating and clever and warm and draped with a deceptive air of comfort, despite the fact that Arum knows that an ounce more of carelessness with either of these creatures would spell certain death.

She stares at him as he flounders. He snaps his teeth together again reflexively, then grasps for other words.

"Humans of the Northern Wilds have a reputation for- for a lack of hospitality. You and your basilisk have quite decidedly failed to live up to that reputation."

She looks delighted by this claim, her hands flexing against him in a way Arum attempts to ignore. "Hm, well, I can't say that reputation isn't absolutely well earned," she says, almost viciously. "Honestly I'm kind of surprised that you managed to get through to Damien, he can be a little intense at first."

Arum laughs again. "Intense," he echoes. "Yes… well, he was certainly that, though I do not think he was inhospitable." He pauses again, and he remembers the calmness of Damien's eyes, even over his raised bow, and the delicacy of the smile he gave when he lowered it at last, and let Arum take his hands again. "Despite the fact that, perhaps, I deserved a degree of inhospitality."

She laughs brightly, and Arum's mouth curls into an unbidden smile beneath his mask, and then she shakes her head and her hands upon him squeeze very slightly. A little warning, he realizes, before she shifts her footing and their trajectory, and then she begins to back away with him, leading him off of the balcony and back towards the rest of the party inside. "C'mon, stranger," she says warmly. "One more dance, and then you'll be free to escape all this ballroom drama. Saints know I wish I could join you- this is all a bit too formal for me to sink my teeth into."

"It has been… less tedious than I anticipated," Arum admits, rather than considering what this creature would prefer to do with her teeth.

"Yeah," she says, playful again, "it seems like you've managed to enjoy yourself, huh?"

Arum huffs, but he bites down on his retort so he may instead focus on maintaining his steps now that he needs to worry about other surrounding humans again. The ballroom is so much warmer than the balcony air, though his phoenix is hotter still in his arms, and the combination of heat seems to blur his vision at the edges.

"If you thought it was gonna be so awful," she says, "why come? If you were worried about our reputation around here, you must come from pretty far off."

"I-" Arum hesitates, considers his possible lies, but the sharpness of her eyes upon him makes him suspect he will have better odds with the truth. Or- part of it, at the very least. "A rather frustrating obligation," he settles on, after a moment. "A job in the city I must complete before I may return home and care for my-" he cuts himself off, digging for a way to explain that a human would understand. "To care for my family, as I am meant to."

"Attending the masquerade is part of your job?" she asks, her eyebrow raising, and Arum sighs because the absurdity of the situation is very much not lost on him.

"Unfortunately, yes. Or-" he pauses, then breathes a light, dizzy laugh as he and the little human spin in a tight circle. "Perhaps… perhaps the obligation has proven itself to be not entirely unfortunate."

She smiles again, and Arum's stomach jumps with a sensation like both pleasure and panic. He swallows uncomfortably, and when she moves with pointed confidence he acquiesces, spinning her out and then pulling her back against his chest.

They are already near to the other side of the ballroom again, the crowd thinning around them as they approach the exit, but Arum still feels as if he is sinking into the warmth of the air, the warmth of his thick cape and those confident hands-

Her hands- not only are they so shockingly warm upon him, but they will not stay still. He is distracted, trying to keep his mind on his steps while her touch and her sly smirk pull his attention elsewhere, and he does not realize quite quickly enough where she is touching until he feels her fingers, curling around the back of his neck. Her touch runs down his spine, brushing the bony ridge at the base of his neck, and he can’t quite suppress the way that makes him shiver and hiss.

Her lips part, her eyebrow raising again as her head tilts in a thoughtful sort of way, and Arum’s feet stumble to a halt.

They both attempt the first syllables of words at the same time, then, hers a baffled question and his a sharp deflection, but they are both interrupted.

"Rilla!"

The little phoenix turns, just slightly, not pulling away from Arum's grasp upon her. She's smiling again, even, as she watches Sir Damien half-leap down the stairs from near the Queen's dais, bolting through the crowd towards the exit, towards them.

"Hm," she says, her eyes sparking with distinct amusement as Arum attempts (and fails) not to feel panic welling again, without the lance of strange pleasure this time. "I didn't think he'd actually get jealous, not after we-"

"Unhand my Amaryllis- unhand my fiancée, villain!"

Arum would do precisely as Sir Damien commands, if his limbs did not feel as immobile as a copse of dead trees. Damien's clarion-call voice draws the attention of nearly the entire ballroom, citizen and soldier alike. It looks, from Arum's horrified vantage, as if every single human face, however disguised, now turns towards Arum and his current partner, who is evidently named Amaryllis. Even the music has slackened, the instruments pattering off into pathetic whining before they cease entirely.

Arum's thoughts wind down in a similar fashion, to a blank nothing that almost screams.

It seems our time has run out before our dance is finished, he thinks again as Damien swims through the stilled dancers, an echo of a lament. Amaryllis pulls slightly towards Damien as he draws close. She pulls against Arum's stiff arms, and he-

There is a moment. He considers the possibility.

He is well within leaping distance to the doors, to the exit, and there is little chance the knight would aim his bow at his own partner, if Arum simply- grabbed her and did not let go when he leapt.

But Amaryllis glances back towards him when she feels how wooden his grip has gone, glancing up at his face with- sympathy of all things as she squeezes one of his hands, and Arum feels like a monster, in the most human of possible senses. He feels like a beast for even considering it.

He forces his grip on the little phoenix to slacken, and he takes a half step back.

Amaryllis gives him one last look of confusion and concern before she slips entirely out of his grasp, moving to place herself between Arum and the knight, her hands raised, placating.

"It was just a dance, Damien, I didn't think that you'd-"

"You," Damien hisses, not pushing past Amaryllis but certainly not hearing her as he glares at Arum. "You-" he snarls, and his hands twitch against his bow, the muscles of his arms tensing, and Arum-

Arum stares at the knight, stands perfectly still, completely stiff, and he is utterly certain that he is about to die.

"I asked him to dance, Damien, not the other way around. Just-"

"With this beast," Damien snarls, and Arum's heart clenches almost painfully, although the citizenry staring at the three of them do not seem to recognize Damien's words as only honest, rather than hyperbolic.

Arum could still attempt to leap, to escape, but without a hostage he is far less certain that he will not be shot in the spine. If he is going to die, he would rather face it directly. He would rather see the arrow as it comes.

Damien clenches his teeth, his tawny eyes gone ferocious and sharp, and it is only Amaryllis' hands upon his wrists that prevent him from lifting the bow in that precise moment.

"How dare you?" Damien's hands shake under Amaryllis' palms. "After- after I- monster-"

"Honeysuckle-"

Damien blanches at the word, at Arum's voice, so very quiet beneath the din of concerned murmurs at the knight's back. Damien hesitates, only for a moment, the fury in his eyes softened with confusion, and Arum forces himself to continue.

"I-" Arum pauses, inhales sharply, tries again. "I was enjoying… playing the monster too much, I think." He pauses again, inhales more slowly, ignores the tightness in his throat. "F-forgive me."

Arum drops his eyes, then, but no arrow comes and the pause draws long enough to be worrying in and of itself. Arum hazards a glance up at Sir Damien again, and he-

The conflict is so clear upon him as to be nearly palpable. Arum thinks that perhaps he would be able to taste it, if the copper of his mask were not stifling his tongue.

Damien still grips his bow in one hand, but the other he lifts, his fingers brushing almost absently over his own lips before he seems to realize what he is doing, and then he presses his palm over his mouth entirely. Amaryllis frowns hard when Damien glances towards her, and then when the poet shoots another look towards Arum, the monster only stands, and waits, and does not allow himself to hope.

"You-" Damien cuts himself off, clenching his jaw hard, his brow furrowing in obvious distress, and then Arum can see the precise moment the poet decides his course of action. The wild determination that bleeds across his features is precisely as blatant as his former conflict. "You have slighted me this night, my fellow beast," Damien says, and his voice is loud and clear again, though Arum can clearly make out the falsity overlaying it now. Amaryllis can quite obviously sense his performance, too, and the bafflement in her expression makes for a good companion to Arum's own stunned shock. "My Rilla's honor must be defended!"

Arum blinks, and the murmurs behind the knight take on a tittering, conspiratorial quality. "A-ah-"

"I demand you duel me!"

"Damien," Amaryllis attempts to interrupt, her tone entirely incredulous, but Damien grips her wrist and shakes his head sharply.

"For my Rilla's honor!"

Damien's tone is insistent, his expression pointed and firm, his eyes framed between the fangs of his mask and still so… compelling. He is prompting, and Arum must push past his shock if he wants to- to take the hand that Sir Damien is offering.

"If- if that is what must be done to put this conflict to rights… so be it."

"It is," Damien snarls. "Obviously, we must- discuss the terms of this duel privately. Let us take the matter outside," he says, his voice managing to be both pointed and toneless, and then nearly as an afterthought he adds, "you cur," and it is all that Arum can do to bury his urge to snort a laugh.

The fact that he feels near-hysterical with the sheer absurdity of this entire evening certainly does not help with that urge, either.

Arum pauses as if considering, flicks his tongue without meaning to beneath his mask (the scent of copper stuffs his snout), and then he nods. "If you… insist."

"I do," Damien says with clear relish, and then he gestures towards the door. "Outside. Now."

Arum stares at Sir Damien for another wondering moment as his frown deepens, as his eyes widen and his gesturing hand flutters in the air again, and then Arum nods, and turns, and retreats, with his basilisk and his phoenix following in his wake.

#OFF! THE! RAILS!!!#elle's fanfic #the penumbra podcast #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #lord arum #amaryllis of exile #sir damien #even with missteps

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alexisluthor · 4 years

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“The Job” - Deep Dive *Prodigal Son Spoilers*

First, I'm not at all surprised that Martin leveraged his 'statement' for more time with Malcolm. I found their in-person conversation interesting because Martin says that Vijay has moved on...and he asks Malcolm...why can't he? I found this a little bit out of character. Martin shouldn't want Malcolm to move on because he would lose his manipulative hold if he did. It seems as though he does want his son to make friends and have normal relationships...but why? As a sociopath, Martin would want Malcolm’s fractured attempts at normalcy to remain the same so that he and he alone can dominate Malcolm's sphere of influence and maintain a stronger hold on him.

I also found it interesting that Martin was called a psychopath and admitted as much to Jessica, saying that he could turn on and off his ability to care. In ep. 1, the FBI called Martin a psychopath and Malcolm (rather heatedly) pointed out that he was a “predatory sociopath.” Even after Malcolm thwacks his head and his concrete addled brain conjures up Martin…his ‘hallucination’ echoes Mal’s own concerns that he too is a “killer, murderer, psycho.”

He analyzes the scene, through the lens of his father. In his 'hallucination,' the chair that he's tied to is gone, but he remains on the floor. From a metaphorical standpoint, his position is a subservient one of vulnerability. Martin stands, walks the scene. Malcolm tries to distance himself from what he’s done, saying he didn’t kill anybody and Martin points out his “work of genius” in loading their minds. He admires Malcolm (i.e. Malcolm craves his father’s praise?) and informs him that he doesn’t need friends. Malcolm desperately craves that human interaction and intimacy though, which is why his guard was down when it came to Eve. He’s just afraid that he’s too similar to his father and also too damaged to maintain healthy friendships.

---Sidebar, Martin hates Gil...and twice during the episode, his boy and his wife stopped talking to him, to talk to Gil. Jessica used it as a dig. Malcolm used it as an escape. When Mal was kidnapped and Gil goes to see Martin…Whitly makes a very strong point to grit out that Malcolm is “HIS boy.” I think something is being set up here. The anger Martin has towards Gil is growing. After Jessica says she should call Gil and hangs up, Martin closes his eyes, breaths, and mentions that she just ‘turned the dagger.’ (so he does have feelings!)---

Anyway! Can we blame Malcolm for his doubts about having normal relationships? No! Especially not after nearly stabbing Eve due to his night terrors. The irony that she is – in fact – out for her own agenda is spectacular. We all know that finding out she is…less than above board…will wreak havoc on poor Malcolm. (But viewers like the whump associated with Malcolm) So who is Eve? The daughter of the slain woman or another victim? A relative? She’s too young to be a victim. But clearly, she has some serious neurosis if she was willing to fabricate this false relationship, including sleeping with Malcolm, just to make headway for her own gain.

And poor Malcolm…we see in previews that he confides in Martin about having doubts about Eve. Martin is fast becoming his sounding board, his anchor point. When he brings up his friendship with Vijay, Martin recalls their falling out, which surprises Malcolm. Apparently, Malcolm was pretty open with his father in their visits before he stopped coming.

So, who was Vijay to Malcolm? Clearly there’s an air of superiority there. He almost acts like a bully, the way he jabs at him and wipes his finger on his jacket. He even refuses to call him Bright, brushing past him as he again calls him Whitly. This dynamic gets the viewer thinking about Malcolm’s (undoubtedly sad) childhood. And it again brings up Malcolm’s trust issues. His friend Vijay abandoned him once his father got out and he regained a ‘normal’ status. Malcolm never had that luxury. Did this falling out leave him friendless altogether?

---Sidebar, how Jessica ‘handles’ her son’s loneliness is cringeworthy. Grabbing the phone and forcing Malcolm to talk to Eve? NO. Just moments before, Jessica admitted to being manipulative, and she is. She even disowned her son at the wedding party when the woman next to her asked if she knew “who that man” was. Her actions towards Malcolm, in my eyes, are even more unacceptable than Martin’s manipulation. (At least he’s open about it) Martin’s reason for calling Jess in the first place was to see if she had manipulated Malcolm into not answering his calls. It’s notable that Martin becomes worried about Malcolm, and Jess asks if he just turned his feelings back on. I think though, that Malcolm is the only one who Martin genuinely does worry about, genuinely does have affection for, other than himself. He ‘missed out’ on a lot of years of parenting. The worrying was probably too much while Mal was a kid and in the decade hiatus that Mal took from him, so he likely turned it off. Now, that worry is back with a vengeance. ---

Anywho…Vijay openly lies to Malcolm about making a deal. Still, in a way, it’s like Malcolm feels he has to ‘prove’ himself and his worth to Vijay by saving the day. Only when things go his way are they the “Corner Table Boys” again. Even after Mal and Vijay were successful, their “buddy” moment at the end was still forced and awkward. (One ‘nice’ thing about Mal’s ‘relationship’ with Martin is that he knows he never has to prove his worth to Martin and Martin isn’t going anywhere. So as toxic as it is, it's more 'stable' than whatever he has with Vijay)

Malcolm is interesting because when he’s left alone in his head, his anxiety spirals out of control. Yet, he’s quick to put himself in life threatening situations – seemingly without anxiety. Is it because he feels he has to prove his worth to his team? Is it because it gives him a rush and makes him feel alive? Is it punishment for all his father has done, or a way to make up for his father’s trail of destruction? Or is it a distraction from the darkness he knows lives within him?

Whatever it is, I bet his reckless behavior will intensify post Eve.

(I’m waiting for an ep where Malcolm does actually have to pull the trigger – maybe in self-defense – and how his broken psyche will deal with actually killing someone. He seems ready to fall into the abyss of moral ambiguity, but his team is what keeps him grounded on just this side of right...and Martin seems to be pushing him in the other direction. That's a lot of cognitive dissonance to deal with. (Blackmailing that brain surgeon to get what he wanted was definitely a touch of evil - it seems he knows how much to use his own manipulative streak and when). So...how much pushing would it take to break Malcolm?)

Final thought: can Martin really extort Malcolm and Jessica with his statement? If his recollection clashed with Mal's and Jess's who would the cops believe? Certainly not him. I partly believe Malcolm is going along with the terms b/c he cares about his mother, but it's also an excuse to visit Martin that is 'out of his hands' ... so he doesn't have to feel guilty about seeing Martin.

#prodigal son #pson #martin whitly #malcolm bright #jessica whitly #tom payne #gil arroyo #pson spoilers #prodigal son spoilers #spoilers #long post

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