#look i know it's representation can be like really bad

[hiriaeth]

I have always been neutral towards buddie- never shipped them but would be happy if they got together because more queer representation just makes things better. However at this point buddie have become so annoying. On a good day they are claiming their interpretation of a scene that they only view through their shipping goggles is canon and on a bad day they are sending hateful messages to real people and actors because they dared to ship a fictional character with someone else.

Their behavior is so similar to the teen wolf fandom (to be fair at least teen wolf had an excuse of having majority teen fans). I hope they either get the Sterek treatment where the ship never goes canon or they get the Stydia treatment where the ship goes canon but it is so disappointing that it ruins everything. (I weirdly never shipped anyone in teen wolf so I found most shipping stans annoying)

Hi anon,

I was also in the Teen Wolf fandom and I recognize some of the same bad fandom trends. Honestly, can't see Buddie getting the Stydia treatment because that would mean canon has in anyway hinted at anything between Buck and Eddie explicitly being romantic and they havent, at all. It can be said that at one point Buck was attracted to Eddie but really that means nothing, Chimney actually pointed out that Eddie is a beautiful man in season 2 and lo and behold he didnt end up with Eddie lol. And sorry to say, Oliver being supportive also means nothing in terms of where the story is going, he has no reason to say otherwise and he's gently tried to get fandom to manage their expectations. Also the actors who played Castiel and Derek have seen and acknowledged the big ships and well, look at what happened to their characters, acknowledging fans appreciating non-canon related stuff doesnt mean much.

Again it would be lovely if fandom would examine how they've created a conservative echo chamber with progressive paint slapped on it where actual queer characters and the actors portraying these characters are ignored and/or harassed while extolling the virtues of their ship based off their being a kid in the picture and the sunken cost they incurred as fans toiling in delusion for years. When no asked them too. Nothing is stopping them from shipping what they'd like but truthfully want they want, no demand, is that fandom space and the show capitulate to their vision.

Best thing that can happen is for us to let them twist themselves up knowing fully well they will watch the show until the end and the show tells the story they want to tell because the vast majority is accepting and or actively enjoying Buck and Tommy and the rest of the cast. I noticed a lot of fans on tumblr seem to be lurkers or just around when there are new eps and retreat otherwise which also lends to many Buddie shippers thinking they have some control over the narrative and fandom space when all they've done is push ppl out who appreciate whats actually happening on the show and want to keep their peace and continue to enjoy the revitalization the show is experiencing on ABC.

#911 abc #bucktommy #thanks for the message op and i know you're going to love ep 7x06 :)) #im excited to see what they give Jee-Yun to wear as the flower girl :)) #im going to retreat as well and only engage with canon material and not whatever else is going on

[maddy-ferguson]

fun fact about me: i'm insecure about so many random things that i've never flipped anyone off in my 22 years of life because i think my middle finger looks awkward and ugly by itself

#and like i say: brf slt #i felt like this especially when i would have been likely to do it semi-regularly like in middle school. but like i was thinking about this #the other day and i did it in front of a mirror just to check and it looked as bad as i remember like it's just not for me #i have a story abour middle fingers though or just about what one would call the finger #when i was in what an american would call the 5th grade (i can never do when i was x years old because it's not an accurate representation #of the class i was in since i skipped a grade and the grade is what matters more to me. when i was 9 and my friends were 10 i was saying) #we would always play this game called girls catch guys or guys catch girls where the girls would run after the guys and like tap them on #the shoulder and then they would go to prison and they would line up and another guy could set them free by like touching one of the #prisoners it was a very fun game except it's way more fun to be like the ones getting caught than to be the ones catching and we would #ALWAYS play girls catching guys and it was very unfair we would be like okay in the morning we do guys catching girls in the afternoon #girls catching guys so it's fair like normal system but the guys NEVER wanted to do it (and we would always give in because like we still #wanted to play ig and idk guys. female socialization) they never wanted to be the ones doing the catching it was so unfair because we also #didn't like it as much and we did it all the time? #and i remember this one morning we were fighting about this we had literally all agreed that it was fair this way but they didn't want to #do it and my second best male friend flipped me and my best (female) friend off and (very #important detail) he did it with both of his hands so like two middle fingers and i don't know why because i'm not even sure that that's a #thing but one middle finger meant fuck you and two middle fingers meant go fuck yourself and to us that was very different? and i remember #my friend and i we like knew what it meant but for some reason we were like. he did do the one finger before doing the two does this mean #he...loves us because it literally means he wants to have sex with us #but what's funny is we never talked to him again after that and i don't even know why that was our last straw because i remember i #genuinely liked him before that like i said he was my second best male friend! so like maybe sixth best friend overall that's not bad #and he's not the only guy friend who flipped us off that year like it was so random to stop talking to him after that😭 #like he was an actual enemy we really did not like him we talked about him in letters we'd give each other using a nickname etc #and what's even funnier is in our last year of middle schoold FOUR YEARS AFTER THIS a friend of a friend told him he should become friends #with well my friend and he was like hm i don't think so have you seen who she hangs out with? marianne *last name* like why do YOU hate #me😭 it was so funny like wdym it was mutual this whole time. i had literally moved on by then i didn't even care about hating him #anymore like wow...i think he's the only person i hated who actually hated me back

[astralpenguin]

genuinely, if you’re looking for something that does a good job at representing its own fanbase, go watch doctor who series 2 episode 10 ‘love and monsters’

#el talks #dw #it shows all these people with vastly different approaches to their interest/fandom #and shows them COMING TOGETHER and becoming friends and a community of their own surrounding their shared interest #it also shows how there /is/ a minority of people who's approach is toxic and shows how those people can ruin things for everyone else #but that when people aren't toxic about it then fandom itself isn't a bad thing and is in fact a very very good and fun thing !!!!! #rtd doesn't hate his fanbase!! he loves his fanbase!!! he's a fan too!!!! and you can really tell!!!!! #people hate on this episode and they're valid and they're wrong but something you cannot deny it does well is the fandom representation #i'm looking at fandom rep in spn for my diss like i know what i'm talking about here

[inkskinned]

she's three years younger than i am, and i put on cascada as a throwback, cackling - before your time! i've been borrowing my brother's car, and it's older than dirt, so the trunk is like, maybe permanently locked. when the sun comes through the window to frame her cheekbones, i feel like i'm 16 again. i shake when i'm kissing her, worried i won't get it right.

in 2003, my state made gay marriage legal. where she grew up, it wasn't legal until 11 years later - 10 years ago. if legal protections for gay marriage were a person, that person would be entering 5th grade. online, a white gay man calls the fight for legal marriage boring, which isn't kind of him but it is a common enough opinion.

it has only been 9 years since gay marriage was nationally official. it is already boring to have gay people in your tv. it is already boring to mention being gay - "why make it your entire personality?" i know siblings that have a larger age gap than the amount of time it's been legally protected. i recently saw a grown man record himself crying about how evil gay people are. he was begging us, red in the face - just do better.

i am absolutely ruined any time my girlfriend talks about being 27 (i know!! a child!), but we actually attended undergrad at the same time since i had taken off time to work between high school and college. while walking through the city, we drop our hands, try not to look too often at each other. the other day i went to an open mic in a basement. the headlining comedian said being lesbian isn't interesting, but i am a lesbian, if you care. as a joke, she had any lesbian raise their hand if present. i raised mine, weirdly embarrassed at being the single hand in a sea of other faces. she had everyone give me a round of applause. i felt something between pride and also throwing up.

sometimes one thing is also another thing. i keep thinking about my uncle. he died in the hospital without his husband of 35 years - they were not legally wed, so his husband could not enter. this sounds like it should be from 1950. it happened in 2007. harassment and abuse and financial hardship still follow any person who is trying to get married while disabled. marriage equality isn't really equal yet.

and i don't know that i can ever put a name to what i'm experiencing. sometimes it just feels... so odd to watch the balance. people are fundamentally uninterested in your identity, but also - like, there's a whole fucking bastion of rabid men and women who want to kill you. your friends roll their eyes you're gay we get it and that is funny but like. when you asked your father do you still love me? he just said go to your room. you haven't told your grandmother. disney is on their 390th "first" gay representation, but also cancelled owl house and censored the fuck out of gravity falls. you actively got bullied for being gay, but your advisor told you to find a different gimmick for your college essay - everyone says they're gay these days.

once while you were having a hard day you cried about the fact that the reason our story is so fucking boring to so many people is that it is so similar. that it is rare for one of us to just, like, have a good experience across the board. that our stories often have very parallel bends - the dehumanization, the trauma, the trouble with trusting again. these become rote instead of disgusting. how bad could it be if it is happening to so many people?

i kiss my girlfriend when nobody is looking. i like her jawline and how her hands splay when she's making a joke. there is nothing new about this story, sappho. i love her like opening up the sun. like folding peace between the layers of my life, a buttercream of euphoria, freckles and laughter and wonder.

my dad knows about her. i've been out to him since i was 18 - roughly four years before the supreme court would protect us. the other day he flipped down the sun visor while driving me to the eye doctor. "you need to accept that your body was made for a husband. you want to be a mother because you were made for men, not women." he wants me to date my old high school boyfriend. i gagged about it, and he shook his head. he said - "don't be so dramatic. you can get used to anything."

the other day a straight friend of mine snorted down her nose about it, accidentally echoing him - she said there are bigger problems in this world than planning a wedding.

#splled ink #writeblr #it's really hard to describe what im feeling

[writingwithcolor]

Author with cultural disconnect: How do I write without making it seem as if I hate my own heritage?

Anonymous asked:

I’m a white-passing Asian author, and I’ve never felt all that connected with my heritage. My current story centers on a fairy (re: fantasy-world POC) child and ends with her realizing that her parents are toxic af and her human best friend’s family takes her in. This is the perfect opportunity to sort through my own issues with my heritage and finally convince my monkey-brain that it’s okay to not know how to cook Vietnamese food or celebrate tet or speak Vietnamese… But I also realize that if I’m not careful, this could easily slip into “Hey, I hate my heritage and so should you!” So how can I stop that from happening?

Writing for yourself first, not an audience

I ask you a simple question: why put pressure on yourself to have any sort of non-offensive messaging for a story that hasn’t been drafted yet and is to convince your monkey brain it’s okay to exist as yourself?

That seems like the fastest way to stop the story from being actually cathartic and instead a performance art piece when you already feel hung up on performing as “properly” part of your culture.

As I said in Working Through Identity Issues and Other Pitfalls of Representation, not all stories you write need to be for public consumption. Especially stories you’re using for your own self-processing and therapy, because you’re trying to get a cathartic moment that is rewriting your own story.

At what point does the public need to be involved in that?

I do understand the compulsion to want to post—I have definitely posted some Questionable™ material in my drive to get validation for feeling the way I do, wanting people to witness me and say “same.” It’s a powerful urge. Sometimes it’s worked, but most of the time it’s just made me feel horrifically exposed.

But you really do not have to post in public to get any sort of validation. Set up a groupchat with friends if you want the cheerleading and witnessing—people who will know your story and give you good-faith interpretations and won’t accuse you of anything. Honestly I’d suggest setting up this groupchat anyway; as someone who just got one again after quite a few years without it, my productivity has skyrocketed from being around supportive people.

Let the monkey brain have its monkey brain moment and shut off the concept the story is for the public. Shut off the concept of performing for an unknown audience. It’s for you. Be authentic, no matter how bad it would look to outsiders. They’re not reading it. Part of getting catharsis, sometimes, is being the worst version of yourself, somewhere nobody else can see it.

Deciding to publish the work

If, after you do write it, you find that you actually do want to polish it up and put it somewhere… edit it. Rewrite it entirely if that’s what it takes. Take the story through the same drafting process every story needs to go through, ripping out the unfortunate implications as you go.

Editing can be its own form of healing, as you try to figure out what this character would need to not be hateful. As you realize, once this longform journal entry is out of your head, what was bothering you now that you can see it pinned down on a page. But you absolutely do not need to write with the intention of editing in that healing. When I’ve tried, it’s fallen flat.

The healing will come from being yourself, no public involved, and writing about your feelings in their rawest form. Anything else is extra.

There’s no point in trying to put guard rails on the drafting process, not for a deeply personal piece. And by the time that drafting process is done, you’ll likely have specific scenarios and contexts that you can ask about, and you might even have ideas on how to fix it yourself once the story has a shape to it.

This is 100% a situation where there’s no real sense in idea workshopping something in the plotting stage. You’re doing something for you. Decide if it’s for public consumption later (while acknowledging “no” is a perfectly valid answer), and only figure out how to make the story not overtly harmful if you decide to put it out into the public.

~ Leigh

#culture #cultural disconnect #creator responsibility #writing #authors of color #asks

[bossbtch1]

Against All Odds

The GIF is not mine; credit goes to the respective artist/creator.

Summary : You recently joined the Avengers, and everyone has accepted you except for Bucky. Now, the challenge lies in proving him wrong, but can you succeed changing his mind and earn his trust? Or do you have to do more to earn it? (geez, I’m suck at this)

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (No mentions of body type or ethnicity other than the reader being female)

TW: SMUT, 18+, strong language, enemies-to-lovers-ish, oral (m receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, degradation (slut calling), slight choking, orgasm denial

Word Count: Around 10k (I know it's a bit long, I got carried away. Sorry) → smut is like 4k hehe

Author's Note: This is my first attempt at writing a story, and it’s a smut one at that. English isn't my first language, so apologies for any mistakes or bad grammar. I hope you still enjoy the story!

Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3

If you like my story, please go check out my other stories here

These are the aesthetic for part 1 (solely for visual representation of what going to happen on the story, this meant no representation for body type or ethnicity)

You've always been a dependable agent ever since you were young, someone who could handle the toughest missions without letting your emotions get in the way. Nick Fury spotted your potential when you were just a kid, taking you under his wing. It was his belief in you that kept you going, and it all led to the thrilling moment when he thought it was time for you to join the Avengers. After all those years of hard work, it felt like a dream come true.

Then came your first day with the team. You'd just joined, and they wanted to see how good you were in a fight. You almost beat Natasha in a really intense battle, proving to everyone that you totally belonged with the Avengers. Your determination to show your worth never wavered. But there was this one guy, Bucky Barnes, who just couldn't seem to trust you no matter what.

On your first day with the Avengers, the training room buzzed with anticipation as you faced off against Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow. It was a test of your combat skills, a way to see if you had what it took to be part of Earth's mightiest heroes. The desire to become one of them, although it might sound cliché and cringey, burned within you.

The Avengers, including Nick Fury, Captain America, Iron Man, Winter Soldier, Hawkeye and Thor, watched from up above, all curious and eager to see how you'd do. Their faces showed they were rooting for you.

However, as you glanced upward to catch your breath, your eyes locked onto Bucky Barnes. He stood there, solitary and stern, arms crossed over his chest. His intense gaze bore into you, but unlike the other Avengers, his expression was far from encouraging. There was a deep skepticism in his eyes, a doubt that seemed unshakable, and it cast a shadow over your determination to prove yourself to the team.

Natasha, dressed in her familiar black outfit, gave you a serious look that made you stop staring up. When she spoke, you turned your attention to her. "Think you've got this, newbie?" she teased, a touch of amusement in her voice.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. This was your moment to prove yourself, and there was no turning back. The weight of your new Avengers uniform felt both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. "I'm ready, Natasha.", you responded with determination. You weren't going to back down now.

Natasha grinned. "We'll see about that."

The two of you circled each other, and then, without warning, Natasha lunged at you with lightning speed. Her attack was quick and precise, but you were able to block it, thanks to your training. As the two of you sparred, the crowd cheered and shouted their support. It was a battle of wits and willpower, and neither of you was willing to give up.

"You're good," Natasha admitted, her voice dripping with genuine admiration. "But let's see how you handle this." With a fluid motion, she unleashed a series of acrobatic moves, flipping and twisting through the air before landing gracefully behind you.

You spun around to face her, sweat beading on your forehead. "Impressive, but I'm not done yet."

The fight continued, and you pushed yourself to keep up with Natasha's relentless assault. Your training and instincts kicked in, and you began to hold your own. It was a back-and-forth battle, each of you landing hits and dodging the other's attacks.

But Natasha was more experienced than you, and eventually, she managed to overpower you. She had you pinned to the ground, her face inches away from yours. You struggled against her grip, but she held you firmly in place. "Had enough?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gritting your teeth, you mustered all the determination you had left. "Not a chance," you replied, refusing to admit defeat.

The crowd went wild as Natasha delivered the final blow, knocking you out. She stood there, victorious, a small smile playing on her lips acknowledging your impressive performance. "Good fight," she said, extending a hand to help you up.

You accepted her hand, "Thanks, Natasha. You're incredible."

The room erupted in applause, and everyone from the observation deck descended to congratulate you. Fury, wearing a proud smile, gave you a warm hug. "Well done, Y/N. You're officially part of the team," he declared, his words filled with pride. He whispered, "I'm proud of you, Y/N," and it meant the world to you.

But amid the celebration with your new teammates, there was one person who didn't seem as thrilled. James "Bucky" Barnes, the Winter Soldier, stood in a quiet corner of the room, his expression inscrutable.

You had felt his presence throughout the entire match, his intense gaze sending shivers down your spine. Bucky's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, then he turned and left the room, leaving you feeling more confused than ever.

Bucky went out of his way to undermine your confidence, pushing you to the brink of quitting time and time again. His words still fresh in your mind. "I don't think you're cut out for this, kid. This isn't a game. It's a matter of life and death. You’re not ready for this."

It hurt. You didn't understand why he was so determined to bring you down. What had you done to make him dislike you so much? Despite Bucky's relentless doubts, you refused to back down. You were determined to earn his respect, just as you had with the rest of the team.

So, every day, you trained harder, pushed yourself further, and proved your worth on every mission. Your hope was that one day, Bucky would finally see you for the capable agent you truly were and put his doubts to rest once and for all.

One day, as you were making your way to the gym, the sound of voices caught your attention. It was Bucky and Steve, engaged in a hushed conversation that seemed to revolve around you. Curiosity piqued, you tried to maintain a discreet distance, keen on hearing what they were saying. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but you couldn't help yourself.

"Buck, I think you're being too hard on her. She's a good fighter and she's eager to learn," Steve argued.

Bucky's skepticism remained unshaken. "I'm just trying to watch out for the team. She's a liability, not ready for this kind of responsibility."

Steve being the optimist pushed back gently, his support for you evident in his tone. "I think you're the only one who feels that way."

Bucky's voice grew firmer as he explained his perspective. "She's only here 'cause Nick Fury vouched for her. There are others who deserve this chance more. I could name a couple who'd fit better on this team than her."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, casting doubt on your worthiness. It was difficult to hear that the person you looked up to and wanted to prove yourself to was actually against you, even though Bucky's argument was valid.

You couldn't help but question if your acceptance into the Avengers was indeed solely because of Fury. You had always believed that your spot on the Avengers was earned through your skills and dedication. Bucky's doubts made you second-guess if you had truly earned your place.

"Buck, there's more to it than that," Steve replied, his voice steady. "Just be patient with her."

Unable to endure the conversation any longer, your heart felt heavy as you turned away, doing your best to conceal the hurt that washed over your face. With resolve, you changed your course and headed towards the field track, hoping a run would help clear your mind.

Later, as the sun set on the horizon, you were still out running laps. Your thoughts were racing, and your body was aching, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

"You're gonna wear yourself out if you keep pushing like that."

You jumped, startled by the sudden voice. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Bucky standing a few feet away, his arms crossed.

Caught off guard, you tried to put on a brave face. "I'm okay," you lied, attempting to hide the pain that was clearly etched on your face. Stopping abruptly had caused your feet to throb with discomfort.

Bucky, however, wasn't buying your façade. He narrowed his eyes, his concern deepening. "You're not. You're hurt."

In response, you shook your head stubbornly, your pride urging you to push through the pain. "I'll manage," you insisted, even though every step sent a sharp twinge through your feet.

Bucky's gaze remained sharp and unwavering. "You're not fooling anyone with that."

Deep down, you knew he was right. The pain was becoming harder to ignore, and your stubbornness could only take you so far. But in that moment, you weren't quite ready to admit defeat or show weakness, especially not to someone like Bucky.

Bucky took a step closer, his expression resolute. "Come on, we're heading inside," he stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I'm okay, I can-." You began to protest, but he interrupted you firmly, "Y/N, enough. This is an order. You're only making my job more difficult by trying to tough it out. Let's go, and I don't want to hear another word from you."

Reluctantly, you fell silent and went along with Bucky, allowing him to guide you back to the facility. As you walked, you couldn't help but mull over his earlier words, "You're making my job harder by trying to tough it out." It left you wondering why he cared or felt responsible for you, especially when you believed he disliked you.

Once inside, Bucky seated you and fetched a glass of water. Taking a sip, you felt a wave of relief as it helped ease some of your fatigue. Then, without uttering a word, Bucky briefly stepped away, returning in less than a minute with bandages and medicine in hand.

Your curiosity got the best of you, and you couldn't resist asking, "What's all that for?" Your eyes were drawn to the medical supplies.

"Take off your shoes and socks," Bucky directed, his tone brooking no dissent.

"I don't think I need..." You began to protest, but a quick glance at Bucky's determined face made it clear that there was no room for discussion.

Letting out a sigh, you gave in and removed your shoes and socks. What you saw shocked you: your feet were in a terrible state, bleeding and covered with painful blisters, a clear result of your overly enthusiastic run.

You heard Bucky mutter a curse under his breath as he knelt down in front of you. "Bucky, seriously, I can handle it," you tried to protest, but he wasn't having any of it.

"Just stay put and let me take care of this." His voice was firm, and he got to work tending to your battered feet. Gently, he placed your feet on his lap, starting to clean the cuts on your soles. You winced slightly as the sting of the alcohol met the open wounds.

While he busied himself tending to your injuries, you found your gaze drifting to him. Bucky was undeniably handsome and hot, you couldn't help but appreciate his appearance. As your eyes met his, he suddenly looked up at you.

"Got something on your mind?" he asked, his expression as enigmatic as ever.

You blinked, realizing that you'd been staring. Heat crept into your cheeks as you stammered, "I, uh, have an issue with my shoes." You finally managed to say, though it wasn't exactly the eloquent response you'd hoped for.

Bucky, his expression unamused, retorted, "Well, that's clear." After he finished bandaging your wounds, he added, "But there's more to it than just your shoes."

"You can't be out here, pushing yourself so hard if you're going to injure yourself. This isn't a game. You must take care of yourself. You can't expect to get the full experience if you're going to hurt yourself." His words were harsh, but they were true.

"I know," you admitted with a sigh, guilt gnawing at you. "I just got caught up and lost track of time. It's not that bad."

Bucky raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Not that bad?" He challenged you. "Then stand up. Let's see how not that bad it really is."

Your cheeks burned. You could already feel the ache in your legs and the throbbing pain in your feet. But you refused to show any weakness. Not now. Not in front of him.

"Fine." With a determined look, you pushed yourself up from the chair, wincing as you put weight on your injured soles. Your feet stung, and your muscles were sore, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through it.

Bucky couldn't help but scoff, clearly frustrated with your stubbornness and tendency to challenge him.  "You want to be part of this team, right?"

You nodded, your determination unwavering despite the discomfort. "Yeah, I do.��

"Then you need to stop being reckless and start acting like an Avenger. We can't afford to have someone on our team who's too stubborn to admit when they're injured. It's only gonna make things worse." he said firmly, taking a step closer to you. "Maybe you could start by, I don't know, following orders and not talking back every chance you get."

The harshness in his words took you by surprise, but they also cut deep. Because you knew he was right.

With that he left the room, leaving you behind to wallow in shame. You knew he was right. But it hurt, especially coming from him.

Weeks later, you received the news that you'd be joining the team on your very first mission. The excitement bubbled up inside you as you geared up for the assignment. But as the mission unfolded, things took a turn for the worse.

You spotted a group of enemies heading for a crowded area and impulsively decided to engage them without waiting for the team's signal or support. Your intentions were to protect the civilians, but your recklessness got the best of you. Your impulsive move led to a chaotic firefight, and in the midst of the chaos, a civilian stumbled into the line of fire, narrowly escaping harm.

Bucky, who had been keeping an eye on you, witnessed the entire sequence of events unfold. His anger and frustration boiled over as he watched you put not only yourself but also innocent bystanders in danger.

Inside the quinjet, as the mission concluded, he couldn't contain his fury any longer. "What the fuck was that, Y/N?!" he erupted, his voice echoing in the confined space.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, feeling an overwhelming sense of shame and regret.

"Sorry isn't good enough!" Bucky snapped, his intense gaze burning into you. You couldn't bear to meet his eyes, and instead, you cast your gaze downward, your hands trembling with the weight of your mistake.

"If you're gonna keep making mistakes like that, then maybe you don't belong on this team. You could've gotten someone killed back there." His words stung, but he was right.

Natasha stepped in to defend you, "Bucky, it was an accident, and it was her first mission. Everyone makes mistake.”

Bucky didn't back down. "Yeah, and accidents can cost lives, Nat. She need to be more careful," he retorted, glaring back at you. "You can't afford to be an idiot like that out there. What the fuck is wrong with you?" He yelled, his anger getting the best of him.

Clint said, "Hey! Enough. She's done enough of a beating already, I know she can do better next time."

"There might not be a next time," Bucky grumbled.

Confusion and worry welled up inside you. 'What do you mean by that?' you wondered silently, unable to find your voice.

Bucky's frustration boiled over as he remarked, "Maybe she should think twice about putting others at risk if she can't handle it."

You turned your gaze away, determined not to let the tears fall. Tony took charge of the situation, his voice steady and reassuring. "Alright, that's enough," Tony declared firmly. "We're all on edge right now after what happened. We all know she can do better, and we'll address it later. For now, let's just concentrate on getting back home."

The rest of the ride was filled with tension, Bucky's glare never leaving you as you tried your best to avoid his gaze.

Wanda noticed your discomfort and moved over to sit next to you. She placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder and asked gently, "How are you holding up?"

You appreciated Wanda's concern and gave her a small, grateful smile. "I'll be okay," you replied softly. "Just need some time to process everything. I guess I'm just a little overwhelmed."

Wanda patted your shoulder again, offering more comfort. "Mistakes are part of learning, especially on your first mission. Remember, the key is to learn from them and get better. Don't let Bucky's words get to you too much."

You let out a weary sigh, realizing the truth in her words. "Yeah, I know.”

The quinjet touched down on the landing pad, and a sense of relief washed over you as you realized you were finally back home. This was it. You were finally home. "We'll talk later, okay?" Wanda asked, giving you a sympathetic smile.

You nodded appreciatively at her and quickly made your way to your room. You wanted nothing more than to lock yourself away and forget the whole thing ever happened. But the guilt and shame were too much to bear.

About a month after the incident, news of another mission started to circulate rapidly around the Avengers' headquarters. The buzz of excitement and anticipation filled the air, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions—both excitement and anxiety. This mission was your chance to redeem yourself after the missteps on your first assignment.

Determined to discuss your readiness for this new mission, you sought out Steve. As you approached his office, you noticed him engrossed in reading some files. You gently knocked on the open door.

"Hi Steve, may I come in?" you asked politely.

Steve looked up from the files and offered you a welcoming smile. He promptly closed the documents and gestured for you to enter. "Of course, come in Y/N." You stepped into his office, and he continued, "How are you doing, by the way?" Steve motioned for you to take a seat, showing genuine concern.

You settled into the chair across from him and fidgeted with your fingers, trying to find the right words. "I'm good, better than what happened last time..." You paused, your voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry about last time..."

Steve's warm smile remained reassuring. "Hey, Y/N, that's okay. We all make mistakes," he said with a reassuring tone, "Don't beat yourself up too much about it, okay?" His kindness and understanding were a comfort, making you feel grateful for his leadership and support.

"So, what brings you here?" Steve asked with a welcoming smile.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. "I heard there's another mission in 2 days..." After a pause, you continued, "But I haven't received the assignment or briefing for it..."

Steve's friendly expression faltered, and he sighed. "Y/N, about that..." He looked genuinely conflicted. "We already have teams assigned to cover that mission. You don't need to worry about it."

Your heart sank, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. It was becoming increasingly clear that you were being sidelined. "Is this because of what happened on the last mission?" You finally voiced your concern, your tone a mix of frustration and hurt.

Steve must've noticed the change in your tone. "Y/N, there'll be plenty of missions, and you'll definitely join the next one, okay?"

You took a deep breath and forced a smile, masking the pain that was gnawing at you. "Ah, okay, Steve." You chuckled, though it felt forced. "That's alright, I was just curious.”

Steve smiled weakly, but you could tell he understood your disappointment. "Y/N..."

You got up from the seat, disappointment heavy in your chest. You knew this was likely Bucky's doing. "Thank you, Captain, for the information. Good luck on the mission!" With that, you turned and left the room, trying to hide your frustration and disappointment.

As everyone prepared to leave for the mission, they bid you farewell, their expressions filled with sympathy. You knew they felt sorry for leaving you behind in the tower. Watching them depart filled you with a profound sense of sadness, knowing you couldn't join them.

You returned to your room, aimlessly flipping through the channels on the TV, but nothing captured your interest. Your mind kept wandering back to the missed opportunity, and the guilt and frustration gnawed at you.

After a futile attempt at watching TV, you tried to occupy yourself with a book, but the words on the pages blurred together as your thoughts remained fixated on the mission. With a sigh, you put the book down, realizing you were too distracted to read.

Restlessly, you paced around your room, contemplating various ways to improve your skills and prove that you were a valuable member of the team. Maybe you could spend some time in the training room or review combat strategies. You knew you had to keep pushing yourself to become better.

Eventually, you settled on the idea of practicing your marksmanship in the training room. Grabbing your gear, you headed there with determination in your step, determined to make the most of your time while the team was away on the mission.

Inside the gym, you started with some intense punching and kicking exercises. It felt great to release your anger, sadness, and disappointment through physical exertion. As you pummeled the sandbag, you couldn't help but imagine it as Bucky's face, channeling your frustration and resentment into each punch and kick. You unleashed your emotions on the inanimate object, giving it your all to cope with the overwhelming mix of feelings inside you.

Sweat dripped down your face, mixing with the occasional tear, but you didn't let up. You wiped away the sweat and tears from your face. "What" punch "Do" punch "I" kick "Have" punch "To" kick "Do" punch "To" punch "Prove" punch "To" punch "You" kick "That" kick "I'm" punch "Just" kick "As" kick "Good" kick "As" punch "Them" punch kick punch kick.

Why were you treated this way? What had you done to earn Bucky's disdain? How could you prove your worth to him? Frustration boiled inside you, reaching its peak as you let out a guttural scream, causing the sandbag to plummet from the force of your final blow.

Panting, you collapsed on the gym floor, you were exhausted and emotionally drained, but you felt a strange sense of relief. You clenched and unclenching your fists. You flexed your fingers and winced as the pain shot through them.

You chose to ignore the pain and you slowly got up from the gym floor. You knew you had pushed yourself too hard, but it was the only way you could vent your frustration and anger.

Limping, you made your way towards the bench where you had left your belongings. The room felt heavy with the echo of your pounding. Your trembling hand found the familiar coolness of your water bottle, and you clutched it tightly, taking a long, refreshing gulp. The cool liquid soothed your parched throat.

Just as you were catching your breath, Bucky unexpectedly strolled into the room. His presence surprised you, you hadn't expected anyone else to be there, especially not him.

His gaze, sharp and perceptive, honed in on your movements, "Still trying to prove yourself, huh?" he remarked, his words hanging in the air like a challenge, his tone laced with doubt.

You met his gaze defiantly, refusing to back down even in the face of his skepticism. "I don't need to prove anything to anyone, including you," you replied, your voice steady despite the ache in your body. "I'm just making sure I'm ready for whatever comes our way. Maybe you should worry less about what I'm doing and more about why you're not on the mission with the rest of the team."

Bucky's expression remained inscrutable, his indifference a stark contrast to your determination. He nonchalantly shrugged, an aloof response to your pointed words.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you couldn't help but roll your eyes, your frustration with him boiling over. "Whatever, Barnes. Keep your doubts to yourself."

You began packing up your belongings, a clear signal that you were ready to depart from his presence. You suspected he was still watching you, his intense gaze never wavering, but you wanted nothing more than to distance yourself from him. It felt like he was deliberately keeping you from the mission, and the resentment simmered within you.

After finishing packing, you headed towards the exit, but Bucky halted you by grabbing your hand. You turned around, irritation clear in your eyes. "What do you want, Barnes?" you snapped, trying to pull your hand away. “What the hell? Let me go!”

Ignoring your protest, he led you back to the training area, placing you in front of him. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach. Did he intend to spar with you? The uncertainty hung heavily in the air, making the atmosphere tense.

You stood your ground, your nervousness growing with every passing second. "What? Scared?" Bucky teased, a mocking smirk playing on his lips.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, refusing to let his taunts unnerve you. You managed a fake smile and replied, "Of you? No. Why would I be?" Determined not to show any fear.

Bucky's smirk widened as he said, "Well, you should be." He locked eyes with you and asked, "Ready?" The challenge in his tone was clear.

You took another deep breath, squared your shoulders, and met his gaze head-on. "Alright, Bucky. I'm game. What's the plan?" Your voice remained steady, even as your nerves continued to buzz beneath the surface.

Bucky's lips curved into a smirk. He motioned towards the training mats, his movements smooth and practiced. "Just try to land a hit on me."

Without a moment's warning, he lunged at you, his attack swift and precise. You barely managed to block it in time, the impact sending a jolt through your arms.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you felt a sting to your pride. "Just one hit?" you questioned, a mixture of disbelief and defiance in your voice. Did he genuinely doubt your abilities? Determination flared in your eyes as you prepared to prove him wrong.

He chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Don't get ahead of yourself, doll. Come on, you're starting to bore me." You gritted your teeth and launched into your counterattack.

The atmosphere in the training room grew tense as you continued your attempts to land a hit on Bucky. Each time you launched an attack, he seemed to anticipate your every move, effortlessly blocking your punches and kicks. It was as if he had an innate ability to read your intentions, and it left you feeling frustrated and somewhat helpless.

With each failed attempt, Bucky's smirk grew wider, and he let out a low chuckle. "Come on, Y/N," he taunted, his tone dripping with playful mockery. "You've got to do better than that if you want to stand a chance."

His words stung, and they fueled your determination. You were well aware that Bucky was pushing your buttons, trying to rile you up, but you refused to let it show. You had a point to prove, not only to him but to yourself as well.

You decided to take another shot, launching into a new round of attacks, hoping to catch Bucky off guard. But just like before, he expertly caught your wrist each time, preventing your strikes from connecting. Frustration gnawed at you, and you let out an audible groan each time he effortlessly pinned your arms behind your back and pushed you back.

Bucky didn't hold back with his taunts either. "Is that the best you've got, doll?" he prodded, his gaze locked onto yours. "I've seen other recruits do better. What happened to all those praises they were singing about you?"

Taking a deep breath, you tried to surprise him with a sudden kick, but Bucky saw through your move. He even managed to catch your legs mid-kick, causing you to lose your balance and tumble to the ground.

His voice dripped with mock disappointment as he quipped, "Doll, I expected better than that. That was just plain bad."

You took a deep breath, frustration fueling your determination. This time, you decided to go all out. You lunged at him with full force, no holding back, hoping to land a solid hit. His dodge and blocks were frustratingly precise, but you didn't give in.

Finally, you managed to back him into a wall, and you saw an opening. You went for a powerful kick, but he swiftly caught your leg, pulling it towards him. Before you knew it, you were pinned against the wall, your front pressed firmly against the hard surface.

"Doll, nice try," Bucky said, his tone edged with approval, "but you've still got long ways to go."

You groaned as he pinned you to the wall, frustrated since you couldn't beat him. "Fuck!"

He chuckled lowly, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body, his face mere inches from yours. "Language, sweetheart."

The feeling of his body pressed against yours sent tingles down your spine, and you tried to keep your breathing under control, your cheeks flushing.

Bucky seemed to notice your blush and couldn't resist a teasing remark. He leaned in even closer, his voice dripping with playful mischief. “What's the matter, doll? Is it too hot in here?" he teased, pressing himself closer to you.

Your blush deepened as he teased you, and you turned your head away from him, not able to meet his gaze. "You know what? You're seriously annoying."

Bucky's smile only grew wider, and he didn't let up. "Aw, come on, doll. Getting all worked up because you can't keep up?" he goaded, his warm breath tickling your neck. His face was even closer now, his eyes dark with a look you'd never seen before.

You huffed in exasperation, determined not to let his teasing get the best of you. "I can keep up just fine, thank you very much," you shot back, your competitive spirit coming to the forefront.

Bucky chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. "Well then," he challenged, his tone inviting. "Prove it. Try to break free from my hold."

Your breath caught in your throat at the suggestion, a rush of adrenaline surging through your veins. "Okay," you agreed, your tone confident. You decided to take Bucky's challenge head-on.

With a swift and calculated move, you attempted to break free from his hold, using all the skills you had acquired during your training with the Avengers. Bucky, ever the skilled fighter, didn't make it easy, but you were determined not to give in.

You tried and tried, but you couldn't seem to break free from his strong hold. You were both sweating, the effort causing the air around you to grow thicker and heavier. You could feel his chest pressed against your body, muscles flexing as he maintained the firm grip he had on you.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you were both breathing heavily, neither of you willing to give in. In that moment, with your bodies pressed together and the heat between you almost unbearable, something changed. You felt his hold on you loosen slightly, and you took the opportunity to spin around, pinning him to the wall.

A surprised chuckle escaped his lips, clearly caught off guard by your sudden move. His eyes, filled with desire, locked onto yours, and the tension between you seemed to reach a boiling point.

You couldn't help but smirk as you managed to gain the upper hand, "Huh, I wi-" But before you could finish, he swiftly turned the tables, pinning you back against the wall.

He chuckled, his voice low and husky. "Not quite, doll." He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Never let your guard down until you know your opponent is truly defeated," he whispered, his voice low.

You gasped, feeling the cool metal of his arm pressing against your skin. "You were saying?" he murmured, his voice low and husky. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear.

You bit your lip, feeling the tension between you reach a fever pitch. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Never let your guard down until you know your opponent is truly defeated," he whispered, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

Your frustration bubbled up, and you couldn't help but shake your head in response. "That's not fair!" you protested, your voice tinged with exasperation. "I managed to break free from your hold. Doesn't that count for something?"

He chuckled, "Not it doesn't. You've still got a lot to learn. I could've easily gotten the upper hand on you again. The moment you let your guard down is the moment you lose the fight."

You clenched your jaw and stared into his blue eyes, not backing down from his challenge. "Okay enough with the taunting. I'm not afraid of you, Barnes."

His lips were so close, you could feel his breath against your skin. "You should be, doll," he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

A moment passed between the two of you, and then, as if a dam had broken, he kissed you hard, it made you surprised, you gasped on his mouth and felt his tongue exploring you.

Your heart was pounding, the excitement building as you kissed him back. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as the heat between you grew.

"God, Y/N," he groaned against your mouth. His metal hand reached for your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist. He pressed you harder against the wall, his hips grinding against yours. You moaned at the friction, feeling your body responding to his touch.

The training room was forgotten as the two of you gave in to your desires, the heat between you driving you both wild. You knew it was a bad idea, but in that moment, you didn't care. All that mattered was the pleasure, the heat, the intensity of it all.

"Bucky..." You panted, feeling his lips and teeth exploring your neck, his tongue licking you, tasting you.

The sound of his name on your lips sent him over the edge, and he couldn't hold back anymore. His hands found their way under your yoga pants, gripping your ass. He bit down on your lip, drawing a small moan from you. You could feel him smile into the kiss.

"Fuck, doll. You like this? Me fucking you against the wall?" he groaned against your mouth.

You nodded, unable to form any coherent words. “Tell me, do you want more?"

"Yes," you breathed, your body trembling with need.

"Tell me," he ordered, his voice husky with desire.

"I want you, Bucky…. please."

"Beg for it," he growled, his hands moving to the front of your yoga pants. He tugged them down, the cold air hitting your wet core, his hand quickly finding its way between your thighs. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.

"Fuck, doll," he muttered, his fingers slipping into your panties, finding your wetness. "So fucking wet for me.” His fingers slid inside you, making you gasp, your hips bucking against him. "Is this what you want, doll?"

"Yes!" you cried out, your hands grasping at his shirt, trying to pull him closer. "Please," you moaned, your hips bucking against his.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit, making you writhe and moan beneath him. "Such a good girl," he murmured, his free hand coming up to grip your breast. He groped you hard, squeezing and massaging you through your sports bra.

"Put your hands up," he commanded, pulling his fingers out of you. You complied, your hands reaching above your head. He pulled up your bra, exposing your breasts to him.

"Such a pretty little thing," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. He took one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. You moaned, your hips bucking against him as he sucked and nibbled on your breasts.

"So responsive," he chuckled, his hand reaching between your legs once again, his fingers dipping into your wetness. "Such a wet little girl. You're dripping for me."

"You like this?" He growled, his fingers rubbing your clit, his thumb sliding up and down your slick folds. He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine, "Tell me were you already wet when we started sparring? Did you want me to pin you against the wall? To fuck you hard?"

You couldn't respond, the pleasure was too much. You were teetering on the edge, ready to fall over at any moment. "Please, Bucky..." you gasped, your hips grinding against his hand, desperately seeking release.

"You're a naughty girl, aren't you? You want me to fuck you, right here, in the training room, where anyone could walk in and see us?"

He was right, you didn't even think of that possibility. You shook your head, "No.. of course not... it's just the heat of the moment... It's just... we're alone right now."

"You sure about that, doll? Cause I'm pretty sure I heard someone walk by a few minutes ago. What if it was Clint? Or worse, what if it was Fury? I bet he would love to see this. His little protégé, getting fucked by the Winter Soldier."

You froze, your eyes wide.

"You know what?" He chuckled, "Let's put on a show for them. Let them watch. Let them see how you beg and scream for me."

“Cat’s got your tongue doll? Where are all the firey comebacks now? Nothing to say?” Your mind was in a state of shock. You tried to think, who was it? But Bucky was stroking you at a relentless pace, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.  

"You want me to make you cum, doll? To make you scream my name?"

"Yes," you panted, you didn’t care anymore, all you wanted was release. Your body trembling as he drove you closer to the edge.

He reached up, gripping your chin, his eyes locking onto yours. "I've wanted to fuck your attitude out of you ever since you came to the compound, doll,” he said, his voice husky with lust. "Watching you fight, all that fire, all that passion, it makes me so fucking hard. You have no idea how many times I've wanted to take you right here, to show you who's in control."

You couldn't take it anymore, the pleasure building, "I'm so close... Bucky," you moaned. You were so close, and he was taking you to new heights. You couldn't stop yourself, you could feel yourself losing control.

"Yeah I can tell, you're tightening around my fingers. Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me? Beg for it, and maybe I'll let you," he teased, his fingers still pumping in and out of you, faster and faster, sending you over the edge.

"Please, Bucky..." you cried, your hips bucking against his hand.

He pulled his fingers out of you, and you whined in frustration. "What the hell, Barnes?”

"Now, now," he tsked, his fingers trailing down your stomach, and stopping at your hip. "You don't get to come until I say so, doll," he ordered, his voice low and dangerous.

"But, please, I'm so close," you begged, the frustration almost unbearable.

"I know, but you need to learn who's in charge, and it's not you," he said, his fingers tracing circles around your clit, making you moan. "You have to obey my orders, Y/N."

"What the fuck, Barnes!" You screamed at him feeling angry at how he toyed with you. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

He grabbed your hair and pulled it down making you winched in pain, "What did you fucking say to me?" He grabbed it harder when you didn’t answer him.

"Ouch." You winced in pain.

Bucky's eyes darkened and he tightened his grip. “First, you need to watch that mouth of yours." He was breathing heavily, his voice rough and commanding. "Or I'm going to shove my dick in it and put you in your place." he warned, his hand moving to grip your hair, forcing you to look up at him.

You gulped down at his threat. There was no mistaking the promise in his voice, but your pussy clenched at the thought of taking him into your mouth.  

"Second," he continued, his grip loosening slightly. "You need to learn that you don't get to question my orders, doll. You're going to be a good girl and listen."

You stared at him, unable to speak. He was serious.

"Answer me Y/N or I will leave you here, frustrated and wanting more," He threatened.

You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, his dominance and authority turning you on even more.

"Yes please, I'll obey," you said, your voice shaking slightly.

"Good girl, that’s more like it," he murmured, his metal hand coming up to caress your cheek. Bucky leaned closer and kissed your lips, his tongue sliding inside your mouth. He was sucking on your tongue and nibbling on your lips, his teeth digging into the soft flesh of your mouth. He kissed your cheek and moved down to your neck.

"Now, where are we?" He asked, his fingers back on your clit, rubbing in slow, agonizing circles. He was torturing you, teasing you.

He smiled wickedly, his hand moving from your clit and slipping inside you. He pushed two fingers inside your core and began pumping them. He started moving his hand faster and faster, the sound of his fingers sliding in and out filling the air.

You wanted to scream and yell at him, but you were unable to speak, the pleasure and the need for release overwhelming. You were panting and moaning, your eyes closed shut as you were trying not to come.

"Not yet." he growled. He pushed a third fingers inside your core and began pumping them. He started moving his hand faster and faster, the sound of his fingers sliding in and out filling the air.

"Beg," he commanded, his voice firm.

"Please, please, please, Bucky," you whimpered.

"Louder," he ordered.

"Please!" you whimpered, the desire and need taking over. "Please, Bucky, fuck my pussy and let me come," you begged. You felt your inside tightening, you need to come right now.

Bucky leaned closer and kissed you again, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth, exploring every inch. He moaned into your mouth, his fingers still pumping into you, his thumb circling your clit. "No," he said, and your eyes snapped open, meeting his blue ones. He smirked, seeing that you were close. "If you come before I tell you, I will punish you, doll."

Your eyes widened and your whole body shook with fear.

"Do you understand?" He asked, his fingers slowly pumping inside you.

"Yes, yes, I understand."

He chuckled, "You're a needy little slut, aren't you? You'd beg for my cock too, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," you moaned, the word falling from your lips without a second thought. "Please, Bucky, I need to come. I need your cock inside me, fucking me hard and fast," you begged, the words tumbling from your lips.

"That's a good girl," he murmured, his fingers picking up their pace. "You're gonna cum for me now, doll. You're gonna cum all over my fingers, and then, when you've recovered, you're gonna get on your knees and suck my cock. And when I'm ready, I'm gonna fuck you, and I'm gonna make you scream my name."

You moaned loudly as his fingers brought you closer to the edge, his words sending a thrill through you.

"You'd like that wouldn't you, doll? Having my cock buried deep inside you, fucking you senseless?"

"Yes, yes, yes," you panted, the pleasure building. He added another finger and curled them inside you, hitting your g-spot, and you gasped.

"That's it, Y/N," he groaned, his fingers moving faster. "Come for me. Let me hear you."

"I... I'm gonna..." you moaned, the pleasure building in your body. You couldn't hold back any longer, the pleasure overwhelming you,

"Come now!," he ordered his fingers working even faster, and suddenly, you exploded.

"BUCKY!" You screamed, your body shaking violently as waves of pleasure washed over you. Your body was trembling, and your juices were flowing freely down his fingers

"Such a good girl," he praised, his fingers slowing, drawing out the last of your orgasm, licking them clean. “Delicious," he murmured.

You panted, your body still shaking from the intensity of the orgasm. He lowered you to the floor, your legs shaky from the intense pleasure.

Bucky chuckled, seeing the confusion on your face. "Don't worry, doll," he said, leaning down and kissing you. "We're just getting started."

"On your knees," he commanded, his voice husky with desire.

Your knees trembled and you looked up at him. His eyes were dark, his pupils dilated with lust. You could see his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. You did as you were told, dropping to your knees. You looked up at him, your eyes locking onto his.

"Open your mouth," he ordered, and you obeyed. "Suck my cock." His voice firm and authoritative

Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you watched him slowly unzip his pants, his thick, hard cock springing free. You stared at him for a moment, taking in the sight of him. The serum must did something to him, as his member was definitely bigger than any man you'd seen before.

"Now," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. "Don't be shy," he coaxed, his eyes dark with lust.

You slowly reached up and grasped his thick shaft in your hand, feeling the hot, smooth skin, marveling at the size of him. You felt a jolt of excitement run through your body as you stroked his length, feeling him twitch in your hand. You could feel yourself growing wet as you continued to stroke his cock, his member growing even harder under your touch.

His fingers tangling in your hair  "Now, put my cock in your pretty mouth, doll," he said, his voice thick with desire.

You lowered your head and opened your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock. You licked the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue around it, tasting his salty pre-cum. He groaned, his hips bucking as you took more of his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down.

You hummed around him, the vibration making him moan. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling at the roots as you worked your mouth up and down his shaft, his cock hitting the back of your throat.

You felt a surge of pleasure run through your body as you sucked his cock, loving the taste and feel of him in your mouth. You could feel his grip tightening on your hair as you continued to suck him, your tongue dancing along his length.

You didn't have any practice beforehand, but you are naturally gifted hearing praises, such as "Mmm, that's it.”, "Just like that.", “Fuck, you are good.” and the way his thighs trembled beside your ears were a tell-tale sign that you were doing great.

"You look so good like this," he moaned, his hand holding onto the back of your head, guiding your mouth over his cock. "I've imagined you sucking me off before."

His words made you moan around him, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

"You're taking my cock so well, like you were made for it."

You whimpered around him, his cock hitting the back of your throat once again. The feeling of his cock throbbing in your mouth, the taste of him, and the way he praised you were pushing you closer to the edge.

"God, your mouth feels so fucking good," he moaned, his hips thrusting as he fucked your mouth. "Such a good little slut, aren't you, doll?"

You felt your pussy clench at his words, your arousal growing with every stroke of his cock. You bobbed your head faster, taking him deeper into your mouth, loving the sounds of his moans.

His fingers tugged at your hair, the pain and pleasure mixing together to send another rush of pleasure through your body. You moaned around him, the sound vibrating through his cock, causing him to thrust deeper into your mouth.

You whimpered, your eyes watering as he pounded into your mouth. You could barely breathe, his thick cock stretching your throat as he fucked your mouth. Your pussy throbbed, your arousal coating your thighs as he mouth-fucked you.

"Oh yeah, you love this, don't you?" He groaned. "You love choking on my cock." As he thrust his cock into your mouth, his hands travelled to your breast, squeezing them hard, making you moan.

He groaned as you continued to suck, his grip on your hair tightening, the pain sending another wave of pleasure through your body. He was fucking your mouth ruthless, the wet slurping sounds were the only sound in the room. And the sounds he was making was almost enough to make you cum.

It became harder to breath with each stroke of his cock meeting the back of your throat, tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, the pain and pleasure mixing together.

He looked down at you, the sight of your mouth around his cock was almost enough to make him cum. He pulled out of your mouth with a loud pop, leaving you gasping for breath and tears running down your face.

"Look at you, what a mess you are," he smirked, his eyes raking over your body. "You're such a dirty girl, aren't you?"

You felt your face flush, his words making your pussy ache with need. You whimpered, the need to be filled by his cock becoming unbearable.

"Do you want me to fuck you, doll? Do you want me to fuck you so hard, you can't walk tomorrow?"

You moaned, your body trembling with anticipation. "Yes, please," you begged, your voice hoarse. "Please, fuck me, Bucky." You couldn’t think straight, you had no filter, you were just saying whatever came to mind.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back. "Say it," he growled, his eyes dark and dangerous.

"Please, Bucky," you said, your voice pleading.

"Try better than that," he said, his voice firm.

"Please fuck me, Sergeant," you whimpered, your voice laced with desperation. "Please fuck me hard and fast until I can't walk. Please use me however you want."

He smiled wickedly. "Your words, not mine. Be careful for what you wish for, doll."

He shoved you onto the floor, his body looming over you. "On the floor. On all fours now," he ordered, his voice stern and commanding.

You scrambled to comply, getting onto your hands and knees. Your heart racing as he positioned himself behind you.

"Spread your legs," he said, and you complied.

He knelt behind you, his hands roaming over your body, caressing your skin. You could feel his hands on your hips, his cock rubbing against your wetness.

"Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you, Y/N?" He whispered, his voice low and husky.

You stayed quiet waiting for him. "I'm gonna make you scream and beg for me, I'm gonna make you forget everything, except my name."

His words sent a shiver through your body, his tone full of dominance and power.

"And when I'm done with you, you'll never forget me, Y/N. You'll always remember me, remember the way I made you feel."

You could feel his hardness pressing against your entrance, teasing you, tormenting you. His hands running over your ass. "But I'm not gonna go easy on you. You understand?"

"Yes," you moaned, your voice breathy. "I understand."

"Good girl," he said, and with that, he pushed his cock inside of you, filling you completely. You cried out, your body quivering as he stretched you. "Such a tight little cunt," he groaned, his hips snapping against you, his cock buried deep inside of you. "So fucking perfect."

You cried out, the pain and pleasure mixing together.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he grunted, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He started to move, his pace slow and steady, his cock stretching you with each thrust.

"Oh god," you moaned, your voice echoing in the room.

"You like that, Y/N?" As he slammed his cock into you, his voice full of lust.

"Yes," you moaned, the sensation driving you wild.

"That's right, doll, take my cock," he growled, his fingers digging into your hips. "Take all of it." He was rough, his pace fast and unforgiving, his cock filling you to the brim with every thrust. You cried out, the pleasure and pain mingling into a sweet symphony.

You moaned, your body shaking as he fucked you. He was pounding into you, his cock hitting all the right spots. Your body was on fire, your mind lost in a haze of lust and desire. "Who's pussy is this?," He asked.

"It's yours," you gasped, your body trembling.

"Say it again," he commanded, his thrusts growing faster and harder.

"It's yours," you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Fucking right it is," he growled, his voice low and husky.

He was pounding into you, his pace relentless. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the smell of sex hanging heavy in the air.

He yanked your hair, forcing your head back and you whimpered. He kissed you, his tongue invading your mouth. His teeth dug into your bottom lip, making you moan.

"Who's a dirty little slut?" He demanded, his hips slapping against yours.

"Me," you gasped, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you. "I'm a dirty little slut, Bucky."

"That's right," he growled, his grip on your hair tightening. "You're my dirty little slut, and I'm gonna fucking ruin you. You’re fucking mine."

Your body trembled, your muscles tensing as his cock slammed into you. You could feel the pleasure building, the pressure mounting inside of you. You were so close, and you needed him to finish you off. "Oh god, I’m so close," you begged, your voice desperate and needy.

"Not yet," he snarled, his grip on your hair tightening. "You'll cum when I say so, and not a moment before."

"Please," you begged, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable. "Please let me cum, Bucky."

"Soon, doll," he promised, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Very soon." He knew you almost came and he decided to torture you further when his fingers finding your clit and he pressed down hard.

You cried out, the pleasure and pain becoming too much. "Oh god," you whimpered, your body trembling. "Please, I can't take it."

He slammed his cock into you, his balls slapping against your clit. "Yes, you can," he growled. "And you will."

You whimpered, the pressure inside of you reaching a breaking point. "Bucky, please please please," you begged, the pleasure threatening to consume you.

"Now," he commanded, his voice harsh and commanding. "Cum for me, doll."

You cried out, the pleasure exploding throughout your body. Your walls clenched around his cock, your muscles spasming. Your mind went blank, the world around you fading away. Your body was shaking uncontrollably as he fucked you through your orgasm, his hips snapping against you, his cock pounding into you.

You were exhausted, your body drained of energy. He continued to fuck you, his pace slowing slightly.

He slapped your ass, the sting of his hand sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. "Such a good little slut," he growled, his hips slamming against yours. "Taking my cock so well."

"Bucky," you moaned, the pleasure building once again. "Please, I can't take anymore."

"Yes, you can," he said, his voice low and husky. He slapped your ass again, harder this time. "You're going to cum for me again, doll."

"No," you protested weakly, your body trembling with exhaustion.

“Yes," he growled, his thrusts becoming more intense. "You will." His metal hand sliding up your stomach, between your breasts, and around your throat.

Your body arched, pushing your hips further onto his cock. The sound of his ragged breaths mixed with yours as you both raced towards your climaxes. "I'm close, Y/N. So fucking close."

His hands pinched your nipples, sending another shock of pleasure through your body. He sucked on them, the sensation almost too much for you. You whimpered, his lips capturing yours again. Your tongues swirled around each other, tasting, devouring.

His cock slid in and out of you, his pace quickening. His moans and growls echoed around you as his orgasm neared. He was so close. So was you.

"Please, Bucky," you begged, your pussy clenching around his length.

He tightened his grip on your throat and slammed his hips into yours. His free hand slid down to your clit, his thumb rubbing circles over it. His eyes meeting yours. his hips slapping against yours, his cock hitting all the right spots.

"Cum with me, doll. Don't close your eyes. I want to see those pretty eyes as you come apart."

Your entire body shuddered, his command sending you over the edge. Your walls fluttered around his length, milking him of his seed. Your body trembled, your muscles spasming as you rode out the waves of ecstasy. His breath becoming ragged as his own release neared.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hips slapping against you. "Your cunt is so fucking perfect."

"God, yes," you moaned, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you.

He slammed into you, his pace becoming erratic as he neared his release. "Oh god," he moaned, his hips snapping against yours. "I'm gonna cum."

"Yes, Bucky. Cum inside me," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your words were enough to send him over the edge.

He growled, his grip on your hair tightening as he pounded into you, his cock filling you completely. He groaned as he cum, his body shuddering as his release washed over him.

"That's right," he groaned, his body going limp. "Take all of it." You felt him twitch inside of you, his hot release spilling into you.

You slumped forward, your body spent as it slick with sweat and cum.  You could hear Bucky panting behind you, his chest heaving. You rested your forehead against the floor, trying to catch your breath. You had never been fucked so thoroughly in your life. Your muscles were sore and tired, your pussy throbbing.

Bucky was still inside of you, his cock softening. He pulled out, his cum spilling out of you. You could feel his cum leaking from your pussy, dripping down your thighs. "Look at that," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Such a pretty sight." He slid a finger between your folds, collecting the sticky mess, then he pushed it back inside you. You let out a small whimper as he slowly pumped it in and out.

Bucky turned you around, your head falling back against the floor. His face hovered above yours, his blue eyes burning with lust. He looked down at you, before he could say anything, you both heard footsteps approaching.

You were panicking as someone could see you in such state, strangely, Bucky seemed unfazed, his expression steady despite the unexpected interruption. Then the next thing made your heart skipped as you heard the doorknob turning. You could only pray the ground to swallow you whole.

Hey everyone, I hope you enjoyed the story! Apologies if the ending didn't meet your expectations, I'm considering a Part 2, but I'd love to hear your thoughts. I'm open to any feedback for improvement. Your input means a lot.

If you want to see more, please show your support by leaving a like. Thank you for taking the time to read!

A/N : Thank you so much for the kind replies and support! I'm really glad you enjoy the story, you have no idea how much that motivate me to continue writing. Please stay tune for part 2! Love youuuu xx

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic #marvel x reader #avenger smut #steve rogers #wanda maximoff #bucky enemies to lovers #bucky an asshole #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan smut

[unpretty]

i really do my best with literary fiction but the problem is that they keep sneaking edutainment in there but there's not like, a blacklistable tag for that, that tells me i don't actually want to read this and would be better off reading nonfiction on the covered topics. i'm sure this seems like a specific complaint but it's happened like three times in the last year and i only managed to finish one of them.

like does this book actually have queer representation in a way that will make me feel seen, or will this book have a part where the main character seems to look at the straight person they're expecting to exist beyond the fourth wall in order to teach them about stonewall or whatever. are they going to start 'as you know bob'-ing actual history at me. why does this keep happening. do the writers actually want to do the fiction equivalent of those youtube channels that just read wikipedia articles, or can i blame bad editors to make myself feel better

#original #this probably explains a lot about my 'no middle sliders' stance on books #i guess blackouts SORT of did something like this but in that case it felt really natural and flowed with the core conceit #so i'm not including it in this complaint of mine #if they were all like that i would be fine with it #even though between you and me blackouts was REALLY hard to read on a kindle. read that one in print imho.

[leejihoonownsmyheart]

"I'd do anything" (M)

Summary:

Desperate to expunge your squeaky clean record you go to Jeonghan and tell him you’ll do anything if he’ll get you drugs

-

Tags: dubcon, bad reputation!Jeonghan, good student!yn, afab yn, anal, bribing, begging, creampie, rough sex, mean!jeonghan, impact!play, safewords made but never used, yn is a virgin, but really just so jeonghan can tease them for it, teasing, virginity is taken very not seriously, multiple orgasms?, fingering, a dash of exhibitionism cause yeah, condescending!jeonghan, this is not realistic okay, *squint* talks of aftercare, drugs are mentioned

But Brie, this isn’t an accurate representation of someone losing their virginity, but brie why is Jeonghan so rough and mean, but brie why can’t you think of any other way to describe someone “getting hot” or “turning red” BECAUSE…. BECAUSE…. SHUT UP OKAY?!

-

You couldn’t help the way that you paced back and forth in front of Jeonghan’s dorm room door, trying to figure out if this was really the move. After all, wasn’t all of this a bit much?

Yes, in elementary school you had preened under the attention of being the good kid. Even in middle school you had enjoyed being what everyone considered to be the teacher’s pet, but when you hit high school… It got old. You were so tired of the way that people would talk to you. The way that they looked down on you because, you actually studied during your free period, and because your teachers trusted you to run errands for them during class.

You weren’t just some good kid who was constantly doing the right thing. You weren’t just interested in studying all the time. You wanted to be invited to parties. You wanted to have friends who you went drinking with.

But your reputation in high school was set. Unwavering. So, you thought you would just wait until college and finally you would be free.

And then college was the same.

You had to do something drastic. You were desperate to get your reputation expunged.

And so that’s why you were here.

“Look at who it is…”

You jumped, your teeth biting into the back of your hand as you screwed your eyes shut, trying to shake the pure fear out of your body at having been caught… Here. By just the person that you were trying to see.

“Ah… Jeonghan!” You said, raising your hand to the back of your neck.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow at you, a few strands of his long dark hair falling in his face. You swallowed hard under his watchful gaze, turning your eyes away from him. That… Was quite the mistake. Suddenly you found yourself pressed up against Jeonghan’s door, his hand pressed by your hand on the door, his other hand on his doorknob. You swallowed hard at having suddenly been pressed up against the wall. Like you were in a fucking anime.

You didn’t really… Know Jeonghan all that well. You knew about as much as everyone did. Rumored to have mafia connections. Quiet… Mostly kept to himself, staying only around a select few.

You hadn’t ever heard of him actually doing anything that really labeled him as a bad boy, but he had the label none-the-less.

Maybe it came from this: His cocky behavior.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Jeonghan asked, a smile flickering across his lips. “Wasn’t expecting our school’s star student coming knocking on the black sheep’s door.”

You swallowed, and you were pretty sure the sound was audible.

“Do you live here?” You asked with a laugh. “I had no clue.”

Jeonghan stared at you. You sucked in another breath.

“I need drugs.”

Jeonghan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and he pulled back a little. He stared at you for a few seconds, clearly unsure of what to say. Then he pulled all the way back and nudged your shoulder with his.

“Ha.”

You stumbled to the side as Jeonghan opened his dorm room door, and you watched for a few seconds in confusion before realizing that Jeonghan was just going to leave you out in his hallway. You pushed between him and his opening bedroom door.

“I’m serious,” you blurted insistently. “I need drugs.”

“What are you going to do with drugs?” Jeonghan asked you back. “You wouldn’t even know how to use them.”

Frustration strummed through you.

“Yes, I would, you just… Smoke weed or whatever,” you insisted. “And like, you shoot heroin with a needle.”

“You’re asking for heroin?” Jeonghan asked back.

“I’m asking for marijuana!” You blurted back. Even as you spoke Jeonghan was placing the palm of his hand to your mouth. You protested adamantly as he pushed you back into his dorm room. You stumbled upon no longer being pressed against the door and Jeonghan shut his dorm room behind you.

“Marijuana,” Jeonghan said, in a mocking tone. “Is not exactly legal here. It’s not easy to come by. And why do you think that I would be able to get it for you.”

He locked his door with a click.

“Or even want to get it for you.”

“Well…” You trailed off. “I mean…” You had no real reason to think that Jeonghan could get this for you. And you had no bargaining tricks to actually get him to get you the drugs either. Your mind raced as you tried to figure out what you could say. What a good thing to convince him would be.

“I’ll let you fuck me.”

Silence filled the room. Jeonghan’s eyes trailed down your body as you began to burn a deep red. You swallowed hard, wondering what was making you so impulsive. I’ll let you fuck me? What the fuck kind of proposition was that?

His eyes made their way back up your body and he put his hands on his hips, bunching his baggy white shirt up with it. He opened his mouth, surely to reject you.

“Anywhere,” you blurted back instead. “You can fuck me anywhere you want. Men like that right?”

Jeonghan seemed even more thrown off by your words.

“What are you even talking about?”

“Anal.”

Oh my god, you wished you would just shut up.

“You would let me fuck you in the ass?” Jeonghan asked. You couldn’t tell if he was amused or not. You firmly pressed your lips together so that you wouldn’t say anything else stupid. You gave him one curt nod.

Silence fell between you and Jeonghan as he stared you down, but you refused to back down from whatever he was trying to get you to back down from.

Finally, he sighed, looking away from you.

“Why didn’t you just go to Hansol?” He asked you. As he spoke, he guided you over to his bed, pushing you down on it. You watched him with the innocence of… Well, the good kid that everyone always painted you as. You moved your hands to your lap, watching as he walked to the complete opposite end of his dorm. He took a seat on his roommate’s bed, propping his elbows up on his knees. He was… The very definition of man spreading.

You suddenly remembered that he had asked you a question.

“I…” You weren’t really certain of how to answer. Why hadn’t you just gone to Hansol? Everyone on campus knew that Hansol was a stoner and if Hansol was a stoner then he would certainly know where to buy you something.

And Hansol was a really sweet guy. If you were to ask him there would be no question on whether or not he would help you achieve your goal.

“I don’t know Hansol that well,” you finally said. Jeonghan let his head rest on his knuckles.

“And you know me better?” He pressed. Your fingers dug into your pants, your teeth catching the inside of your mouth nervously. “Why do you even want drugs?”

Now that was a question you could answer.

“I’m tired of my reputation.” You blurted. “Tired of everyone talking to me like I’m some innocent kid just because I get good grades and I’m nice to teachers. I’m not perfect, I don’t need to be babied.”

Jeonghan hummed.

“Well, despite your adamancy you are innocent,” he stated. You glared at him, fingers pinching your thighs through your pants.

“I’m not innocent,” you pressed.

“Yes, you are,” Jeonghan argued back, his lips quirking up at the sight of your frustration. “And that’s why you came here. Isn’t it?”

“I came here to ask you to get me drugs,” you said back.

“Well, I won’t get you any,” Jeonghan replied just as evenly. Your eyes widened at the flat-out denial of your request.

“But-!” You stood up without really thinking. “Jeonghan I’ll do anything.”

Jeonghan’s eyebrows quirked.

“Seriously! Anything you want Jeonghan. You can do anything you want to me, I’m serious. I’d-”

“Is that not prostitution?” Jeonghan asked. Your mouth dropped open, and once again he had left you stuped.

“What?”

“It just seems like you’re trying to sell your body to me,” Jeonghan pointed out. He pulled himself up a little bit, raising his eyes to make your gaze more even now that you were standing. He leaned back on his hands and his head fell to the side a bit. “In that case you would be bribing me to commit a crime by trying to get me to commit a different crime.”

Your jaw stayed open.

“I just thought-” God, what kind of guy even was Jeonghan? “If you’re not going to do it then just tell me you aren’t going to do it.”

“I already told you I wasn’t going to do it,” Jeonghan replied calmly.

At this point, your heart was racing and your face was burning red. Every part of you wanted to just storm out angrily, and Jeonghan seemed to read that in your eyes.

“What’s wrong angel, did I make you mad?” He asked. “You’re used to getting everything that you want, aren’t you?”

If it was possible your face burned even hotter.

“That’s not true.”

“Then why are you still here?” Jeonghan pressed. He got up to his feet, reminding you of your unfortunate height difference. He walked back over to you and his fingers buried into your hair. He tugged your hair at its roots so that you were forced to look up at him.

You felt your mouth go dry.

“You said you aren’t innocent, but you are and that’s why you really came here today,” Jeonghan said. He once again looked you up and down, a small humming leaving his throat as he stared at you.

“You wanted me to come expunge your record. You wanted to prove to everyone that you truly are in fact no longer innocent. You knew that if you asked Hansol he would let you smoke with him. And you also knew that to get what you want you don’t even have to smoke weed.”

Jeonghan shifted his weight, but he didn’t loosen his grip.

“You could do something as innocent as start smoking cigarettes and people would start to look at you differently. All you have to do to get those is go to the closest gas station.

Jeonghan leaned forward a bit, his face growing closer to yours. He smiled as your eyes flickered down to his lips.

“You want me to take your virginity.”

Your eyes widened.

“I’m not a virgin.”

He laughed.

“No?” He clearly didn’t believe you. “And I suppose I was wrong about everything before too.”

Jeonghan’s head tilted down a little bit and you let your head tilt up a bit too, your brain lost in a haze, thinking that he was going to kiss you. Jeonghan’s lips were so close to yours.

“Got you.”

Your face burned.

“This doesn’t mean I’m a virgin,” you murmured. Jeonghan’s fingers released your hair, and he took a step back from you. You cleared your throat, brushing your fingers through your strands in order to tidy yourself back up again.

“I’m not going to take your virginity,” Jeonghan said pointedly. “Why did you think that I was going to do it anyways?”

“What do you want me to do then?” You asked, finally relinquishing to the idea that you were in fact a virgin. “You want me to go to someone else? Let some other person take my virginity and then come back to you and beg you to buy me drugs.”

Jeonghan’s eyes widened a bit.

“Don’t just ask people to take your virginity,” he blurted. “And just ask Hansol. I’ll call you for him.”

Jeonghan took a few steps away from you in order to get his phone out. He started to mess with it, but you just huffed.

“Well, is there something wrong with me then?” You demanded. “Is that what it is? I’m too innocent to fuck.”

Jeonghan laughed dryly, not looking up at you as he presumably pulled up Hansol’s contact.

“You being too innocent isn’t why I won’t fuck you.”

You snatched his phone out of his hands, forcing him to look at you .

“Then why?” You prodded. Jeonghan shifted his weight, propping one of his hands on his hip.

“Because I’m not going to go easy on you just because it’s your first time. If you taunt me with being able to fuck any hole on you, I’m going to do it. No hesitation.”

“But you are hesitating,” you grumbled. Jeonghan rolled his eyes.

“You don’t want me to?”

You let silence fill the room at his question, which made him smile.

“You’re hesitating,” he pointed out.

“Just fuck me,” you insisted. “Please.”

Jeonghan put a single finger to your forehead and leaned forward.

“Rules.”

Your eyes zeroed in on his finger.

“One: You can’t tell anyone,” he said. “I don’t want people on my ass for being the ‘bad boy’-” He used air quotations. “- who took your virginity.”

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Okay.”

“Two: You’ll tell me if you’re uncomfortable with anything that is happening,” he replied firmly. “I may be… Rough but I’m not heartless. It’s your first time if you need me to go… Slower…”

He seemed to be a bit bothered as he said that. You could tell that he was rethinking whether or not he wanted to actually take your virginity.

“Just say something,” he finally said. “Seriously, no shame.”

“It’s not going to bother me,” you protested. “Just cause it’s my first time doesn’t mean that I won’t… Like it.”

Jeonghan’s finger pressed harder into your forehead.

“You don’t know what I’m into,” you said.

Jeonghan hummed and then spoke a word. Your eyebrows furrowed and you repeated it in confusion. Jeonghan rolled his eyes.

“It’s your safe word,” he stated plainly. “I’ll stop if you just say stop, but if that’s uncomfortable to you for some reason-”

“I know what a safe word is,” you interrupted him. Feeling a bit annoyed. “I told you. You don’t know what I’m into.”

Jeonghan didn’t look entirely convinced.

“Three… You have to beg for it and prove you really want it.”

Your face burned under his gaze, not entirely sure what he wanted you to say. Sure, you had read tons of stories about this, and watched a handful of videos where someone had to beg but… To actually have to do it.

“I’m not patient,” Jeonghan mumbled. You swallowed hard and forced yourself to keep your eyes on him.

“Please fuck me,” you mumbled softly. “I want you so badly Jeonghan.”

You thought you sounded a bit robotic, but Jeonghan seemed to like it. His lips quirked up a bit in amusement. Once again, his fingers buried in your hair, and he held you tight, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“Really?” He pressed, wanting more.

“Really,” you agreed. “I’ve… Been thinking about you ever since I first saw you.”

You wished you could say it wasn’t true but Jeonghan was right in his accusations that you had been strategic in the way that you had gone about this whole situation. You had been desperate to get his attention, and you had genuinely thought that you would be able to trick Jeonghan into thinking that you didn’t want it so badly by coming under the guise of I’ll do anything for drugs.

But it seemed that wasn’t the case. He had seen right through you.

“Life isn’t one of your shitty porn videos,” Jeonghan chided you softly. “If you wanted to fuck me… Well angel, you should have just asked.”

Jeonghan tipped his head down a bit more, his nose brushing yours as his lips ghosted yours.

“Last chance to stay pure.”

The tone of his voice told you that he didn’t actually believe that fucking someone made them impure, and still the words sent a shiver through your body. You tilted your chin up, letting your lips brush his. Jeonghan laughed at your weak attempt to initiate the kiss.

“Is it your first kiss too?” He teased you lightly. At this rate he was so close to you that you were confident that he could just feel the redness of your cheeks by your twos close proximity.

You raised both of your hands to Jeonghan’s head.

“Shut up.”

You pulled him close to you, squashing your lips together, but the fact that you actually hadn’t kissed anyone before was pretty evident.

Jeonghan laughed against your lips and pulled away slightly, his fingers burying into your hair again.

“It really is your first kiss,” he said in awe.

“It’s…” You trailed off, face burning. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you,” Jeonghan assured lightly. His hands dropped to your side, and he tugged at the bottom of your shirt. “It’s just amusing… Do you really not care about the importance of your first time?”

He gave you a small kiss, and then pulled your shirt over your head. He gave you another kiss, putting one hand to the small of your back and the other hand to the clasp of your bra.

“Firsts don’t really mean anything,” you mumbled. Jeonghan feigned offense.

“If firsts don’t mean anything does that mean I’m not special?”

You snorted at his faux tone but that didn’t matter at all to him. You hadn’t even realized what he was doing until suddenly your bra had loosened around your chest. Your face burned red, and you suddenly raised your hands to your chest, holding up your bra weakly. Jeonghan snorted at you.

“You know if I’m going to fuck you anywhere than I am going to be seeing you naked right?”

Your face was still bright red.

“That doesn’t mean I’m not going to be a little embarrassed about it,” you mumbled softly. Jeonghan took your wrist with one of his hands, forcing your arm away from your body, letting your bra to lopsidedly fall off your other arm. As he moved your arm he also moved your body, guiding you over to the wall. He didn’t push you against it but he may as well have with how close he was to you. He made sure to toss aside your bra once he had released your arm, and then he took you by your hips, now pressing you into the wall.

“Let’s see what we are working with,” Jeonghan mumbled, and the way that he looked at you made you realize what it was like to be seen as an object. And not in the way that you had seen people describe it on tiktok. No, you knew now what it felt like when one of the characters of your adult fantasy novels said that the male lead looked at them like an object.

Heat rushed through your body so quickly that you were surprised when Jeonghan raised his hand to pinch at one of your nipples and it was rock hard. You resisted the urge to push him away, because you had never been touched by someone like this before, and you were finding the burn of your body intoxicating.

Jeonghan raised his other hand to your breasts, completely cupping the other one, and you raised your hand to your mouth, biting down on your knuckle to keep from making any embarrassing sounds. You tried to watch Jeonghan as he began to fondle with your breasts, but the heat in his eyes that you had only ever seen written before was a bit overwhelming. You found yourself having to turn your head, pressing your hand into your mouth harder as he squeezed and kneaded your breasts.

“No one’s ever touched you like this before either huh?” Jeonghan observed, and when he spoke you realized that he was very close to your neck. As soon as the words were completely out of his mouth, his lips had latched on your neck. You cried out against your hand and shook your head to say no even though he couldn’t see you.

Jeonghan’s head dipped a bit lower after having bit down a few times on your neck. He kissed over your collarbone and then his mouth was gently sucking one of your nipples into his mouth.

You gasped out in surprise and your hands darted to his head, your fingers grabbing at his hair.

“A-Ah, Jeong-”

You felt his lips curve up into a smile and his teeth nipped lightly at your nipple.

“You’re so reactive,” he murmured. “I forgot how loud virgins are.”

“Stop calling me a virgin,” you whined. In response Jeonghan lowered one of his hands, sliding it down your hips. He unbuttoned your pants with a single flick, and slowly pushed his hand into your underwear. Your face burned and your hands tugged at his hair urgently.

“What are yo-” You were interrupted by your own surprised moan as Jeonghan slipped a finger into you. You slammed your hand over your mouth at the sound of your moan.

“Even a virgin would be better than you at handling a finger in their cunt,” he murmured. His head dipped back down, refocusing on your tits. You tugged at his hair with the one hand that wasn’t (poorly) stifling your moans.

“It’s like you’ve never even fingered yourself before,” Jeonghan said, his voice heightened in amusement. His fingers slipped from you, and he pulled away from you. He slipped his finger into his mouth.

“Drop your pants.”

You stared at him; your hands having had to catch yourself on the wall in surprise at the loss of his support. He raised an eyebrow at you as you panted there dumbly.

“Don’t look at me like an idiot, take off your pants.”

You nodded and struggled to get the pants off. Once they were tossed aside awkwardly on the floor Jeonghan sat down in front of you, looking up at you from where he was now cross-legged on the floor.

“Spread your legs,” he mumbled softly. You did so the best that you could while standing against the wall. “Good… Now, I want you to run your hands down your body…”

Your eyebrows furrowed and again- You did the best that you could to slid your hands down, a bit confused on where you were going. Jeonghan rolled his eyes.

“Down to your pussy angel,” he murmured. “But… Don’t touch your clit. Want to watch you finger yourself.”

Your eyebrows rose in surprise.

“I’m not going to-”

“Didn’t you say you would do anything for those drugs?” He asked you. Your lips pressed in frustration. “Or were you just saying that because you wanted me to fuck you? You didn’t think I was going to hold you to that promise? Anything?”

Your body was warm. Did that mean that he was going to do everything you offered…? Did that mean-

“You know a virgin shouldn’t be so excited to do anal,” Jeonghan commented. Before you could argue that he was gesturing at you to move faster.

“Come on, if you can’t even finger yourself why should I fuck you? I can’t teach you everything,” he commented, and there was a disgruntled tone in his voice that made you lightly bang the back of your head against the wall as you finally slid one of your fingers into yourself.

“I know how to finger myself,” you murmured, your voice was a bit airy as you spoke. Your finger was a bit shorter and thinner than Jeonghan’s had been. Just a bit. So, you were a bit frustrated even though he had only been fingering you for a little bit. You slipped a second finger into you, trying to pish your fingers as deep into as you could manage.

“You’re doing such a good job,” Jeonghan praised lightly. “I don’t even know why you came. You don’t need me to get off do you?”

You looked down at Jeonghan, face surely bright red at being watched. Jeonghan tilted his up a bit.

“Why don’t you play with your tits too huh? Give me a bit of a show.”

You opened your mouth to protest cause this wasn’t what you meant when you said anything but even as you were doing that you were raising your free hand to knead and pinch at your breasts. A whine left your mouth at the feeling instead of a sentence of protest towards Jeonghan.

You let your head hit the back of the wall again, and your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to pretend that Jeonghan wasn’t there watching you in his room, fucking yourself against the wall. But… It was all you could remember, that Jeonghan was watching. His little hums of approval vibrating through the room every once in a while.

You pressed a third finger into you, curling your fingers deep inside of you, forcing out a gasp.

“A bit presumptuous with all those fingers, I didn’t even have to tell you.”

A sound of frustration was your only reply.

“Y/n,” he voice came sharp. “Look at me.”

You reluctantly pried your eyes open and looked down at Jeonghan. Your hand fucking your pussy was soaked. You wanted to pretend that it wasn’t because of Jeonghan because experiencing your fantasies wasn’t always supposed to be as good as reading about them, but despite that thought in your head you knew that you had never dripped down your thighs like this at home for fantasies.

“You ever fucked yourself in the ass before?” He asked you, rather bluntly, you thought. You shook your head, biting down on the inside of your cheeks. Jeonghan hummed.

“And yet you offered it up? You probably could even fit a pencil in there, much less your fingers, or my dick,” he commented, and again that way he spoke down to you was such a ridiculous turn on you wanted to scream into your hands. People never spoke down to you. Not your teachers, or other classmates, not even your parents had ever spoken down to you. It was thrilling to be spoken to like this.

“You don’t have to fuck me…” You didn’t want to say it so casually like he was. “There.”

“I don’t,” Jeonghan agreed. “But you want me to, don’t you?”

You shook your head, closing your eyes in embarrassment.

“Did you get ready for me?” He asked you, his voice again heightened in amusement.

You shook your head, but your thoughts turned to the what to do before anal google search you had done before coming here.

You would be joking if you said you hadn’t really been hoping this night would take this turn. You would be just straight lying if you said you hadn’t done most of what the google results had told you.

But to finger yourself there? That was humiliating.

As your thoughts raced, you felt Jeonghan close the distance between you two. He tapped your cheek, and you felt your eyes flutter open. You were staring up at Jeonghan whose face was framed in his hair falling forward from looking down at you.

“You like it when I talk down to you,” he murmured softly. “I bet you’d really like it if I was a bit more physical.”

Again, you wanted to scream but you kept your face as straight as you could keep it.

“You want me to hurt you?” He continued; his voice so airy that you nearly missed the question. You pressed your lips together, and you nodded once. His eyes narrowed. “I need it vocal.”

“Yes.”

You were immediately slapped, hard across your face. You stumbled, grabbing Jeonghan’s arm to keep yourself steady just at the surprise of being hit.

“Say it louder.”

You looked up at Jeonghan, your pupils blown. You had always wondered what it would feel like to be hit by someone. Always fantasized about it, weakly slapping yourself while listening to strangers on reddit’s gonewildaudio’s subreddit degrade you. But that didn’t hold a candle to the way that hit made you feel. Your pussy clamped around nothing, and your fingers dug into Jeonghan’s arm.

“Oh my god yes, please,” you blurted before you could feel shame for your excitement. “Please hurt me, It feels s-so good.”

You wanted to cry, because you needed Jeonghan to touch you more. You needed his fingers inside you. You wanted his cock inside of you.

The excitement was thrumming through your body.  You hadn’t even seen Jeonghan’s cock yet.

Jeonghan forced your chin up.

“You would give a shitty blowjob,” Jeonghan commented as if he could read your mind. “I don’t feel like teaching you how to take cock down your throat properly.”

Jeonghan took you by your shoulder, and walked you over to his desk, bending you forcibly over it. You moaned as your cheek pressed into the cold wood.

“You want me to stop,” he mumbled. “Just use your safeword. I know you’re good at listening.”

“Okay,” you breathed.

Jeonghan’s hand came down on your ass hard, jolting your entire body.

“Let’s see…” He mumbled, ignoring your yelp. He knelt down in front of you, his thumbs coming to your folds and spreading them for him. “Your pussy still looks like it needs a cock in it.”

He sighed as if he was disappointed in you. You let your forehead hit the desk. He pushed two of his fingers into you, and as he did so he was clicking his tongue.

“And you’re dripping like a bitch in heat all over me…” He continued. He pulled his fingers out of you after only a few pumps and ran them through your folds as if to try and gather all of the wetness.

“Let’s see if you’re even wet enough for this…” Jeonghan slid his now soaked fingers up to your asshole, pushing lightly to see if your rim would give. He didn’t try very hard and instead took his head.

“Yeah… You definitely aren’t ready for this,” he mumbled. But as he did, you felt a different one of his fingers dragging through your wetness and then pushing at your asshole. He forced the finger into you, forcing a moan out of you.

“Well, my pinky can fit, so I guess you’re not a completely lost cause,” he murmured. You kicked one of your feet into the ground, fighting the urge to push back on Jeonghan because the burn of just his pinky finger inside of you was absolutely intoxicating. You felt like you were going to explode, you wanted him to do more, you wanted him to put more in you.

“Je-Jeonghan,” you said, but your voice was small and shaky as he eased his pinky in and out of you. “I-I can take more.”

Jeonghan hummed, ignoring you.

“Jeonghan,” you moaned again, shimmying your ass. “I want you to fuck me with more.”

Jeonghan slapped your ass and you lost his finger completely.

“You’re rushing it,” Jeonghan chided. “You really want me to just pull out my dick and start fucking you when you’ve never even fingered your ass before.”

Your face burned so hot you were glad that he couldn’t see. You wondered what it would be like if he did just fuck your ass right there. You wondered how big he was, and how big he would feel with just his tip forcing it’s way past-

Your thoughts were interrupted by Jeonghan beginning to push a bigger finger into you, and you pushed back against it. You were so tight that it was a bit of an effort to try and even get his finger further into you. His other hand gripped at your waist.

“You’re so impatient it’s making me a bit angry,” he warned, and you hoped that he left bruises on your hips from how hard he was holding you. Jeonghan began again, to work his finger in and out of you, but he was taking his time and you were getting impatient. More impatient than before.

Jeonghan began to ease a second finger into you, making you hit your palm against his desk. God, you needed more. You had never come without a vibrator, but right now you felt like you were going to come just on Jeonghan’s fingers alone.

“You were right,” you bit out, hoping he was listening. “I should have asked Hansol to get me drugs. Cause he would already be fucking me by now.”

Your words had the desired affect even though, at first you thought you had really fucked up. Jeonghan left you completely, slapping your ass hard.

“You want it like that?” He asked you. You swallowed hard and just as you were about to apologize you heard a zipper. Moments later you felt something fat and heavy hit your back.

“You want to play that game?” Jeonghan asked. He grabbed you by your hair and pulled you up from the desk. You cried out in surprise as you were flipped around and hiked up onto his desk. Jeonghan let his heavy cock land on your bare pussy and he grabbed you roughly by both sides of your face, dragging you into a rough, possessive kiss. He broke it just when you thought you were going to suffocate.

“What were you going to do if you went to Hansol then?” H asked. “Cause I promise you, Hansol won’t fuck you the way that I’m going to.”

He pulled back wrapping both of his hands to hit your clit with his heavy cock. You jumped at each hit, feeling like you’d get yelled at for grabbing him so instead you grabbed at the edges of Jeonghan’s desk.

“I bet you Hansol would have been so gentle, probably would have talked you through all this shit, praised you for how frankly stupid you are at this,” Jeonghan mumbled. He shook his head and rubbed his bare tip between your slick folds. “But I’m not even going to fuck you with a condom.”

He grabbed the back of your neck, pushing so that your eyes were forced to look down at where his cock was teasing your entrance.

“Because even cheap whores can’t argue with a paying customer. Because they’ll take whatever they get.”

He forced his cock into you all at once, and you screamed at the sudden thrust. You had fucked yourself countless times on dildos that honestly did compare to Jeonghan’s width and length, but you still felt like you had never been fucked by anything before. The base of his cock stretched you so hard that you felt tears begin to trail down your cheeks, but it felt so good that you didn’t want Jeonghan to stop.

Jeonghan moved one of his hands to your shoulder, and the other to your hip so that he could begin to force his fat cock into your pussy that had only just been spread open enough for this to feel pleasant. You were starting to think that you shouldn’t have been so hasty with the anal because at this rate you didn’t think he would fuck your ass at all.

Not that you cared too much. His fingers dug into your shoulders as his groans filled the air, cock twitching everytime it pushed too far in because it drug a yelp out of you everytime and made you clench hard around Jeonghan’s cock. He let his forehead drop forward, against yours, and he shook his head against yours.

“God you’re so stupid you don’t even know how you’re supposed to act during your first time,” Jeonghan mumbled. “You aren’t supposed to want it this rough. You aren’t supposed to talk about other men.”

Jeonghan accentuated his points with his thrusts, and he nudged your nose with his, smashing your lips together again. You tried to keep up with him, but to be completely honest you were pretty much solely moaning against his lips. You couldn’t even respond to anything he was saying you were just nodded when you could, screaming into his mouth with each deep thrust.

Of course, once again, you had that pleasure ripped away from you.

A frustrated sob left your lips, but it was interrupted by a soft kiss from Jeonghan.

“Oh don’t worry angel, we’re just getting started,” he whispered against your lips. You were a bit confused by his words but then he was dragging you off the desk again, bending you back over it, the tip of his cock pressing against your tight asshole.

“You want me to fuck your ass? Then it would be my pleasure.”

He had to hold your hips tightly (both to get himself into you and to stop your wiggles of anticipation). It took a moment (you suspected he was going easy on you), before finally his tip was into you. You both let out matching moans and he weakly bent over your body, burying his face in the back of your neck.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, you are so tight,” he blabbered nonsensically. He pushed further into you, and the burn and stretch of his cock in your ass felt so good that you had to push your fist into your mouth, biting down hard on it to keep from screaming too loud.

“You’re such a slut y/n,” Jeonghan babbled as he pushed into you. “Good kids like you shouldn’t act like this. Good kids like you shouldn’t let bad guys like me fuck you. We don’t treat you right.”

You whined into your fist, shaking your head to shake off his words. This felt too good. Your pussy was clamping on air, dripping all over his desk and on your thighs. Jeonghan held you still until he had finally pushed all the way into you, his head raising so that he could thread his fingers back into your hair.

“Such a bad little slut,” he mumbled, and then he began to pull out. At first his thrusts were slow, because you were so tight there was nothing else that he could do. But as he continued, he grabbed at your other wrist, and trapped it behind your back so that he could hear you.

You were a mess of tears, and pleasure, the burn of his cock as he began to fuck you hard and fast and your moans could probably be heard by the entire floor.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he mumbled against your skin, his teeth bit down on the back of your neck. “I like this so much… Did you think of the consequences to your actions before doing this? Coming here? Asking me to fuck you?”

You shook your head silently, and it wasn’t enough for him, his other hand circled around your body and his fingers pressed to your down to your pussy.

 You sobbed out in complete and utter pleasure.

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you?” He asked you as suddenly his fingers pressed into your pussy, three fingers filling you up so full that for a second you forgot how to breathe.

“I’m going to cum in your fucking ass and watch it drip out of your ass and into your pretty little pussy how do you like that?”

You nodded, and finally were able to find the words.

“Yes Jeonghan please, I need that so badly, want you to cum in my ass, please please-“

As you begged you started to feel something warm spurt deep in your ass. Your forehead hit the desk, as you sobbed in pleasure, feeling an orgasm rip through so powerful that your vision briefly blurred, your entire body shaking.

It wasn’t until he finally, stopped thrusting, his cock still buried deep in your ass that you even realized what a mess you were making of his desk. You were crying, you knew that for sure, and suddenly Jeonghan pulled you up by the strands of your hair.

“How does that feel angel? Do you feel good?” He asked you, his tone again condescending.

“G-good,” you admitted shamelessly. “Th-Than-nk you.”

Jeonghan hummed and pushed you back into the desk. He slipped his cock out of your now used ass, and then plugged it with three of his fingers. His hand left your hair, and you felt his cock head tease at the entrance of your pussy.

“Clearly, I haven’t taught you a good enough lesson. You aren’t supposed to like this. You are pure, the perfect kid on campus.”

He pushed his cock into your pussy in one full push.

“Oh god-”

“Don’t you want to protect your image?” He asked you. “You really want everyone to know that Yoon Jeonghan fucked both of your sloppy holes and left cum in them?”

Excitement thrummed your body.

“Y-Yes.”

You wished you could say that you were thinking about using the safe word he had provided you earlier but you didn’t care about that at all. You were sobbing just from the pleasure of it all. So excited at the prospect of having your pussy full of cum. You had always wondered what that was like. You already loved the feeling of Jeonghan’s cum in your ass. The feeling of his fingers keeping it plugged up.

He didn’t have to fuck you long before you were coming on his cock.

And that dragged him over the edge as well.

The warm spurts of cum in your pussy were completely different from the toys you had played with to try and simulate this feeling before.

As soon as Jeonghan finished filling your pussy with his cum he took a step back, his warmth leaving your body.

Both of your whole felt empty, your clit desperate for attention despite having come just from Jeonghan’s cock already.

You moaned as you felt his cum beginning to drip out of your ass and down to your pussy, which was also dripping cum, presumably onto Jeonghan’s floor.

“You look so pathetic,” Jeonghan said, that condescending tone still there. “A virgin fucked to tears and yet somehow you seem so grateful.”

He sighed and then his hands were soothing over the small of your back. You preened into his touch, steady breaths leaving your lips as he guided you up. Your body was still shaking a bit so when he turned you around all he did was wrap his arms around your body, pressing your back to the desk as he hugged you tightly.

He stood there completely silent for a few minutes, making sure not to say anything. After a while, your head drooped tiredly onto his shoulder and he sighed, pressing a small kiss to the side of your neck.

“How’re you feeling?” He asked you softly. You felt a bit embarrassed that he was reassuring you.

“I feel fine,” you mumbled. “Like I’ll be a bit sore tomorrow…”

His cum dripped down your thighs.

“But isn’t that what everyone’s first is like?”

Jeonghan eased you back by your shoulders so that you could see him.

“I thought firsts didn’t matter?” He asked. Your face began to burn red again.

“They don’t…” You murmured, a smile crossing your face. “But it was a pretty good first.”

You were tired, but excitement still strummed through your body.

“Yeah, my first time I was slapped, fucked over a desk, and he came in both my ass and my pussy,” you said as if you were telling the story to someone. “Oh and it was an infamous bad boy who did it.”

Jeonghan laughed at your words.

“We have a communal bathroom,” he said. “But I’ll sneak you into the boys one so you can get clean in peace. I’ll help you shower.”

“Oh aftercare,” you teased lightly. Jeonghan gave you a somewhat amused look.

“How come you were so embarrassed to ask me to fuck you that you came under the guise of needing drugs, but now you are smiling and laughing while your cunt and your ass drip my cum.”

He made a good point.

“Dream come true…” You murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. Then after a few moments: “Wait does that mean you’re not going to get me drugs?”

“No,” Jeonghan said with a laugh. “I told you to go to Hansol if you wanted to smoke some weed.”

You gaped at him, but he just pushed you back by your forehead a bit while he rummaged through his things to get some clothes.

“Hey Hansol, I need some weed,” you mumbled. “Don’t worry you can fuck me any-“

Jeonghan was back on you in an instant, his fingers digging into your shoulder, just by your collarbone.

“Don’t offer random people to fuck your ass.”

His gaze on you was a bit scary… Unwavering. You pressed your lips together and nodded once.

“You shouldn’t let people fuck you without a condom either,” he continued, sounding a bit unamused. “Or cum in your ass. If you’re going to be a slut, you could get something… You should just fuck one person.”

A beat passed as you realized what he was saying. Your pressed look turned into a smile.

“You mean-”

“Don’t overthink it,” he grumbled. “I’m going to get so much shit if it gets out that I took your virginity so just… Keep everything on the down low, okay?”

You nodded excitedly.

“Yeah. DL, I got it.”

Jeonghan looked at you like he didn’t quite believe you.

“Promise!”

Finally, he relented and handed you a t-shirt.

“But no drugs,” he mumbled. “You don’t need to start doing that shit. I’m not going to fuck you if you smell like weed all the time.”

“Got it!” You agreed. “No drugs.”

Jeonghan sighed and shook his head at your eagerness.

“And you’re staying the night. Can’t have you walking home after this or anything.”

Again, the idea was a bit exciting.

“Virginity taken and a sleep ov-”

Jeonghan shoved the shirt you hadn’t yet taken in your face with a sigh as he realized that fucking you, wasn’t going to be like fucking most people.

“Come on, you’re dripping cum all over the floor.”

You pulled the shirt out of your face enough to smile at him.

“Thank you Jeonghan.”

He sighed.

“You did good y/n, you did really good.”

And then he helped you get his shirt on and get you to the bathroom.

Taglist: @vintageot5, @woo8hao, @toruro, @wonudazed, @kkakkameori

#jeonghan is back for a limited time only okay #just for his birthday #pt. 2 brie hates tagging her fics #seventeen #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #svt fanfiction #seventeen smut #kpop smut #jeonghan smut #mean jeonghan #dom jeonghan

[peachyscenes]

perv!ateez thoughts

note: this isn’t an actual representation of ateez. all for fun, just some thoughts. gender neutral reader. MDNI!

reblogs appreciated!!

—————

perv!hongjoong doesn’t mean to perv on you. ‘it’s natural!’ he thinks to himself when he envisions how you’d look underneath him. he just likes you so much, he can’t help but squint a bit whenever you’re wearing a white shirt. or when a bit of your underwear is showing. just seeing a tiny bit of the band sends his blood to his cock and he has to excuse himself to the bathroom to jerk-off to the vision of you stripping for him.

this isn’t the first time he sees you in your pool. this also isn’t the first time perv!seonghwa uses this opportunity to try to get a peak at your almost naked body. your bathing suit hugs you so well too. he thinks he's in heaven when you unravel the towel from your body. he groans as he sees you climb out of your pool, all in your wet glory. he almost cums in his pants when you decide to lounge on one of your pool chairs. and you're still wet. the light of the sun only doing you justice as it makes your skin glow. if he runs upstairs for his telescope, he's certain he can be able to see more of your assets.

he has your minutes counted and perv!yunho knows that at any second you're going to walk through your bedroom door with a towel wrapped around. you tend to take quick showers, which is why yunho has to hurry when he knows your soccer practices are over. he fist pumps the air when he sees that he beat you. his bedroom window faced yours and if he opened his curtains enough, he could see you. and then you enter your bedroom. he grows hard seeing your naked body once you unravel your towel. he notices your body lotion and makes note to buy the same one so he knows what you smell like.

perv!yeosang feels ashamed. not for having a crush on you, his roommate, but for listening in when you masturbate. it's to the point where he has your schedule for your "personal sessions" memorized. he can't help himself though! he just wants you so, so, so bad. tonight is another one of your sessions and like a moth to a lamp, he's outside your door. your moans are so sweet. you're very vocal and that's something that he's always appreciated about you, especially since he's more reserved. perv!yeosang stand outside your door, turned on, and wonders if you'd be a vocal if he were there. he wondered if you wouldn't mind taking the lead.

i have to stop he thinks to himself. you're going to notice soon and he's pretty sure that you're going to know immediately. i mean, the poor boy can't even lie properly. perv!san feels like he's on a top secret mission whenever you decide to hop in the shower. he's your best friend, but is this what best friends do? stealing each other's underwear? in his defense, you just smell so good. he especially likes your underwear that you've worn for more than 2 days. quickly, he stashes them into his pocket before sitting on your sofa like he didn't just steal your underwear to smell and jerk off to later from your dirty clothes bin.

perv!mingi seems like he's a sweet guy. and he is! he'll stand behind you going up the stairs or the escalators when you're at the mall. he'll offer hospitality jacket if you feel too cold in your outfit. he'll even compliment your shirt. but if you catch him at the right time, he's staring at your ass. or slightly touching the skin of your exposed midriff. or staring at your chest, especially if you have on a tight fitted shirt. deep down, mingi wants you to catch him, that way he can drop his little nice guy act and show you what he really wants to do to you.

feeding you is his favorite thing. perv!wooyoung just loves getting food with you. it doesn't matter if it's take out or at home, he's going to stuff you. he also wonders if the way you let him feed you, you'd let him stuff your mouth with his own cock. if the way you'd hum at new flavors is how you would hum at the taste of him on your tongue. wooyoung wants you to taste him and everything about him. he wants to give you the best of the best meals, and of course that includes him as well.

perv!jongho feels like such a teenage boy when he sees you during his gym time. today you're working on your legs and he feels himself drooling at your toned thighs. he almost moaned seeing the bit of sweat on your forehead and neck and he wondered if you would look the same if he was between your legs. he thanked whoever you believed in for your choice of clothing today too. shorts that really accentuated your ass and a compression shirt that made him almost bite his own tongue off.

#ateez smut #ateez x reader smut #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #yunho smut #yeosang smut #san smut #mingi smut #wooyoung smut #jongho smut

[cripplecharacters]

The Mask Trope, and Disfiguremisia in Media

[large text: The Mask Trope, and Disfiguremisia in Media]

If you followed this blog for more than like a week, you're probably familiar with “the mask trope” or at least with me complaining about it over and over in perpetuity. But why is it bad and why can't this dude shut up about it?

Let's start with who this trope applies to: characters with facial differences. There is some overlap with blind characters as well; think of the blindfold that is forced on a blind character for no reason. Here is a great explanation of it in this context by blindbeta. It's an excellent post in general, even if your character isn't blind or low vision you should read at least the last few paragraphs.

Here's a good ol’ tired link to what a facial difference is, but to put it simply:

If you have a character, who is a burn survivor or has scars, who wears a mask, this is exactly this trope.

The concept applies to other facial differences as well, but scars and burns are 99% of the representation and “representation” we get, so I'll be using these somewhat interchangeably here.

The mask can be exactly what you think, but it refers to any facial covering that doesn't have a medical purpose. So for example, a CPAP mask doesn't count for this trope, but a Magic Porcelain Mask absolutely does. Bandages do as well. If it covers the part of the face that is “different”, it can be a mask in the context used here.

Eye patches are on thin ice because while they do serve a medical purpose in real life, in 99.9% of media they are used for the same purpose as a mask. It's purely aesthetic.

With that out of the way, let's get into why this trope sucks and find its roots. Because every trope is just a symptom of something, really.

Roughly in order of the least to most important reasons...

Why It Sucks 

[large text: Why It Sucks]

It's overdone. As in — boring. You made your character visibly different, and now they're no longer that. What is the point? Just don't give them the damn scar if you're going to hide it. 

Zero connection with reality. No one does this. I don't even know how to elaborate on this. This doesn't represent anyone because no one does this.

Disability erasure. For the majority of characters with facial differences, their scars or burns somehow don't disable them physically, so the only thing left is the visible part… aaand the mask takes care of it too. Again, what's the point? If you want to make your disabled character abled, then just have them be abled. What is the point of "curing" them other than to make it completely pointless?

Making your readers with facial differences feel straight up bad. I'm gonna be honest! This hurts to see when it's all you get, over and over. Imagine there's this thing that everyone bullied you about, everyone still stares at, that is with you 24/7. Imagine you wanted to see something where people like you aren't treated like a freakshow. Somewhat unrealistic, but imagine that. That kind of world would only exist in fiction, right? So let's look into fiction- oh, none of the positive (or at least not "child-murderer evil") characters look like me. I mean they do, but they don't. They're forced to hide the one thing that connects us. I don't want to hide myself. I don't want to be told over and over that this is what people like me should do. That this is what other people expect so much that it's basically the default way a person with a facial difference can exist. I don't want this.

Perpetuating disfiguremisia. 

"Quick" Disfiguremisia Talk

[large text: "Quick" Disfiguremisia Talk]

It's quick when compared to my average facial difference discussion post, bear with me please.

Disfiguremisia; portmanteau of disfigure from “disfigurement” and -misia, Greek for hatred. 

Also known as discrimination of those mythical horrifically deformed people.

It shows up in fiction all the time; in-universe and in-narrative. Mask trope is one of the most common* representations of it, and it's also a trope that is gaining traction more and more, both in visual art and writing. This is a trope I particularly hate, because it's a blatant symptom of disfiguremisia. It's not hidden and it doesn't try to be. It's a painful remainder that I do not want nor need.

*most common is easily “evil disfigured villain”, just look at any horror media. But that's for another post, if ever.

When you put your character in a mask, it sends a clear message: in your story, facial differences aren't welcome. The world is hostile. Other characters are hostile. The author is, quite possibly, hostile. Maybe consciously, but almost always not, they just don't think that disfiguremisia means anything because it's the default setting. No one wants to see you because your face makes you gross and unsightly. If you have a burn; good luck, but we think you're too ugly to have a face. Have a scar? Too bad, now you don't. Get hidden.

Everything here is a decision that was made by the author. You are the one who makes the world. You are the person who decides if being disabled is acceptable or not there. The story doesn't have a mind of its own, you chose to make it disfiguremisic. 

It doesn't have to be.

Questions to Ask Yourself

[large text: Questions to Ask Yourself]

Since I started talking about facial differences on this blog, I have noticed a very specific trend in how facial differences are treated when compared to other disabilities. A lot of writers and artists are interested in worldbuilding where accessibility is considered, where disabled people are accepted, where neurodivergence is seen as an important part of the human experience, not something “other”. This is amazing, genuinely.

Yet, absolutely no one seems to be interested in a world that is anything but cruel to facial differences. There's no escapist fantasies for us.

You see this over and over, at some point it feels like the same story with different names attached.

The only way a character with a facial difference can exist is to hide it. Otherwise, they are shamed by society. Seen as something gross. I noticed that it really doesn't matter who the character is, facial difference is this great equalizer. Both ancient deities and talking forest cats get treated as the same brand of disgusting thing as long as they're scarred, as long as they had something explode in their face, as long as they've been cursed. They can be accomplished, they can be a badass, they can be the leader of the world, they can kill a dragon, but they cannot, under any circumstances, be allowed to peacefully exist with a facial difference. They have to hide it in the literal sense, or be made to feel that they should. Constantly ashamed, embarrassed that they dare to have a face.

Question one to ask yourself: why is disfiguremisia a part of your story?

I'm part of a few minority groups. I'm an immigrant, I'm disabled, I'm queer. I get enough shit in real life for this so I like to take a break once in a while. I love stories where transphobia isn't a thing. Where xenophobia doesn't come up. But my whole life, I can't seem to find stories that don't spew out disfiguremisia in one way or the other at the first possible opportunity.

Why is disfiguremisia a default part of your worldbuilding? Why can't it be left out? Why in societies with scarred saviors and warriors is there such intense disgust for them? Why can't anyone even just question why this is the state of the world?

Why is disfiguremisia normal in your story?

Question two: do you know enough about disfiguremisia to write about it?

Ask yourself, really. Do you? Writers sometimes ask if or how to portray ableism when they themselves aren't disabled, but no one bothers to wonder if maybe they aren't knowledgeable enough to make half their story about their POV character experiencing disfiguremisia. How much do you know, and from where? Have you read Mikaela Moody or any other advocates’ work around disfiguremisia? Do you understand the way it intersects; with being a trans woman, with being Black? What is your education on this topic?

And for USAmericans... do you know what "Ugly Laws" are, and when they ended?

Question three: what does your story associate with facial difference — and why?

If I had to guess; “shame”, “embarrassment”, “violence”, "disgust", “intimidation”, “trauma”, “guilt”, “evil”, “curse”, “discomfort”, “fear”, or similar would show up. 

Why doesn't it associate it with positive concepts? Why not “hope” or “love” or “pride” or “community”? Why not “soft” or “delicate”? Dare I say, “beauty” or “innocence”? Why not “blessing”? “Acceptance”?

Why not “normal”?

Question four: why did you make the character the way they are? 

Have you considered that there are other things than “horrifically burned for some moral failing” or “most traumatic scenario put to paper”? Why is it always “a tough character with a history of violence” and never “a Disfigured princess”? Why not “a loving parent” or “a fashionable girl”, instead of “the most unkind person you ever met” and “total badass who doesn’t care about anything - other than how scary their facial difference is to these poor ableds”? Don’t endlessly associate us with brutality and suffering. We aren’t violent or manipulative or physically strong or brash or bloodthirsty by default. We can be soft, and frail and gentle and kind - and we can still be proud and unashamed.

Question five: why is your character just… fine with all this?

Can’t they make a community with other people with facial differences and do something about this? Demand the right to exist as disabled and not have to hide their literal face? Why are they cool with being dehumanized and treated with such hatred? Especially if they fall into the "not so soft and kind" category that I just talked about, it seems obvious to me that they would be incredibly and loudly pissed off about being discriminated against over and over... Why can't your character, who is a subject of disfiguremisia, realize that maybe it's disfiguremisia that's the problem, and try to fix it?

Question six: why is your character wearing a mask? 

Usually, there's no reason. Most of the time the author hasn't considered that there even should be one, the character just wears a mask because that's what people with facial differences do in their mind. Most writers aren't interested in this kind of research or even considering it as a thing they should do. The community is unimportant to them, it's not like we are real people who read books. They think they understand, because to them it's not complex, it's not nuanced. It's ugly = bad. Why would you need a reason?

For cases where the reason is stated, I promise, I have heard of every single one. To quote, "to spare others from looking at them". I have read, "content warning: he has burn scars under the mask, he absolutely hates taking it off!", emphasis not mine. Because "he hates the way his skin looks", because "they care for their appearance a lot" (facial differences make you ugly, remember?). My favorite: "only has scars and the mask when he's a villain, not as a hero", just to subtly drive the point home. This isn't the extreme end of the spectrum. Now, imagine being a reader with a facial difference. This is your representation, sitting next to Freddy Krueger and Voldemort.

How do you feel?

F.A.Q. [frequently asked questions]

[large text: F.A.Q. [frequently asked questions]]

As in, answers and “answers” to common arguments or concerns. 

“Actually they want to hide their facial difference” - your character doesn’t have free will. You want them to hide it. Again; why.

“They are hiding it to be more inconspicuous!” - I get that there are elves in their world, but there’s no universe where wearing a mask with eye cutouts on the street is less noticeable than having a scar. Facial differences aren’t open wounds sprinkling with blood, in case that's not clear.

“It’s for other people's comfort” - why are other characters disfiguremisic to this extent? Are they forcing all minorities to stay hidden and out of sight too? That’s a horrible society to exist in.

“They are wearing it for Actual Practical Reason” - cool! I hope that this means you have other characters with facial differences that don’t wear it for any reason.

"It's the character's artistic expression" - I sure hope that there are abled characters with the same kind of expression then.

“They’re ashamed of their face” - and they never have any character development that would make that go away? That's just bad writing. Why are they ashamed in the first place? Why is shame the default stance to have about your own face in your story? I get that you think we should be ashamed and do these ridiculous things, but in real life we just live with it. 

"Now that you say that it is kinda messed up but I'm too far into the story please help" - here you go.

“[some variation of My Character is evil so it's fine/a killer so it fits/just too disgusting to show their disability” - this is the one of the only cases where I’m fine with disability erasure, actually. Please don’t make them have a facial difference. This is the type of harm that real life activists spend years and decades undoing. Disfiguremisia from horror movies released in the 70s is still relevant. It still affects people today.

"But [in-universe explanation why disfiguremisia is cool and fine actually]" - this changes nothing.

Closing Remarks

[large text: Closing Remarks]

I hope that this post explains my thoughts on facial difference representation better. It's a complicated topic, I get it. I'm also aware that this post might come off as harsh (?) but disfiguremisia shouldn't be treated lightly, it shouldn't be a prop. It's real world discrimination with a big chunk of its origins coming out of popular media.

With the asks that have been sent regarding facial differences, I realized that I probably haven't explained what the actual problems are well enough. It's not about some technical definition, or about weird in-universe explanations. It's about categorizing us as some apparently fundamentally different entity that can't possibly be kind and happy, about disfiguremisia so ingrained into our culture that it's apparently impossible to make a world without it; discrimination so deep that it can't be excised, only worked around. But you can get rid of it. You can just not have it there in the first place. Disfiguremisia isn't a fundamental part of how the world works; getting rid of it won't cause it to collapse. Don't portray discrimination as an integral, unquestionable part of the world that has to stay no matter what; whether it's ableism, transphobia, or Islamophobia or anything else. A world without discrimination can exist. If you can't imagine a world without disfiguremisia in fiction... that's bad. Sad, mostly. To me, at least.

Remember, that your readers aren't going to look at Character with a Scar #14673 and think "now I'm going to research how real life people with facial differences live." They won't, there's no inclination for them to do so. If you don't give them a reason, they won't magically start thinking critically about facial differences and disfiguremisia. People like their biases and they like to think that they understand.

And, even if you're explaining it over and over ;-) (winky face) there will still be people who are going to be actively resistant to giving a shit. To try and get the ones who are capable of caring about us, you, as the author, need to first understand disfiguremisia, study Face Equality, think of me as a human being with human emotions who doesn't want to see people like me treated like garbage in every piece of media I look at. There's a place and time for that media, and if you don't actually understand disfiguremisia, you will only perpetuate it; not "subvert" it, not "comment" on it.

I hope this helps :-) (smile emoji. for good measure)

Mod Sasza

#mod sasza #disfiguremisia #face difference #mask trope #writing trope #writing resource #writing reference #writing resources #writing advice #writeblr #writing tips #long post #burn survivor representation

[blackbat05]

Real or Not Real?

Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Plot: You need a plus one for a wedding. Who better than your boss and perhaps the most hated person on your list.

Genre: PG-13, Enemies to Lovers (I would like to think so😬)

A/N: I’m on a roll. Also, I always wanted to do this trope! This is longer than usual. Reblogs and feedback appreciated!💜

“Shit!” Your phone bounces off the bed, landing inches away from another expensive repair.

“What’s wrong?” Jessica Drew looks up from the self help book that she was currently engaged in.

“An old classmate. I totally forgot about the wedding!” You groan, feet becoming more fidgety by the second.

“Right… and would you care to explain why you look like one of Norman Osborn’s pumpkins?” Your best friend looks at you cautiously, as if like you were a volcano waiting to explode any second.

“Well, she used to be great with everyone in school. Can’t say the same about myself.” You winced internally at the memories about your youth. “You know how it is. Everyone is either rich, successful or in love once they leave school.”

“Or maybe all three.” Jessica adds helpfully much to your chagrin.

“Thanks, Jess.” You refrain from rolling your eyes. “Anyways, the chat group got reignited and some genius started asking about ‘the girl who everyone always see but doesn’t really know’ and before I know it, everyone starts pestering me about how I’m doing!” You throw your hands dramatically in the air and Jessica can’t help but to look amused. “So?”

“So, I kinda told them that I have a reallyhotboyfriend.” The last few words are mashed into one big mess but still clear enough for Jessica to pick up. “You what now?”

Smelling the judgement from a mile away, you hang your head in defeat. “I know! I’m an idiot! I couldn’t help myself okay? This is what happens when you attend a private all girls’ school. You stand out for being weird and suddenly The Plastics start making your entire school life hell.”

“The Plastics?”

“It’s a movie reference.”

“Why am I not surprised.” Jessica chuckles. “So what now girl? How’s damage control going?”

“Terrible.” You splat face first into the pillow. “I was thinking of getting help from the guys but…” You hold up four fingers, ticking them off one by one. “Pavitr can’t pretend, Hobie’ too unpredictable, Miles is too young and Peter’s married with a child - a fact I can’t ignore even if this is fake.”

Jessica looks at your closed fingers, tapping her chin thoughtfully. If being friends with her taught you anything, this wasn’t a good sign.

“There is one more option. I think he would fit your description of a really hot boyfriend.” She deliberately gives you a meaningful look that makes you leap off the bed, throwing her an accusing look.

“Actually, I think I’m going to ask Gwen. Do you know where I can find her?”

“Long gone. She went to visit Captain Stacey.” Jessica quips. “Come on. He’s a good option. Besides, this is a great opportunity to know him better!”

“I rather tangle with the loch-ness monster instead.” You mumble, thinking about your very first encounter with the man of the hour - Miguel O’Hara. The two of you were a good representation of day and night.

While you were bright and upbeat, the leader of the Spider Society probably didn’t have the word ‘joy’ in his dictionary. As you attempted to introduce yourself to him at your first meeting, he had simply brushed you aside.

“Miguel isn’t that bad once you get to know him.”

“Very funny, Jess. You should be comedian of the year. Did you forget how he yelled at me when I pushed him out of the way from Kingpin’s gangbangers?”

Jessica opens her mouth slightly, only to shut it soon after. You frown, turning your back to see whatever she was staring at behind you. How you wished you hadn’t. Oh, if only the ground could swallow you whole as Miguel himself stands at the door, staring at you with an unreadable expression.

“What- how long have you been here for?” You struggle to form that one sentence. “Jess…” You start accusingly.

Jessica shrugs, taking Miguel’s presence as a sign to leave. “I’ll leave you two to it!” She gives you a wink that results in your mouth hanging agape. Miguel closes the door and you quickly attempt to compose yourself.

“I’ll do it.”

“Do what?”

Miguel raises a brow. “Be your date.” He says it all too nonchalantly, as if choosing at empanada at the supermarket. You blink, pinching yourself out of his sight. The situation was very real. He stands in front of you, waiting.

“What do you want from me?” You blurt out. “You want something in return.” You clarify once more, trying to make sense of things.

The end of Miguel’s lips turn upwards slightly, and you’re worried that the sudden acceleration of your heart would unable to support your body to stand upright.

“I just want to apologize for my behavior and I happened to overhear your conversation.” He responds and you make a mental note to never trust Jessica again for not warning you about his presence.

“Am I in some kind of alternate dimension?” You laugh, trying to defuse the awkwardness. Miguel remains impassive, eyes staring intently into yours.

“What’s it going to be? You can take me or you can look like a liar to everyone. It’s your choice.”

You hate to say it, but he’s right.

***

“You came!” Your old friend comes barreling into you, giving you a big hug.

“Lils! You look amazing!” You gushed, returning the hug. “Congratulations. What a beautiful place.” You refer to the beachside wedding that she insisted on.

“Thanks! Jeju Island was always on my bucket list. I’m so glad I get to share this memory with all of you!” She gushes, turning to your plus one. “I mean, I finally get to see who has stolen your heart!” She extends a hand. “And who may you be?”

“Miguel O’Hara.” He extends his own hand for a shake. “Congratulations.”

“No need for the formalities!” Lilly smiles brightly. “What I do want to know is how you two got together! You can be away from her for a little can’t you?”

Before the two of you can even say anything, you find yourself being pulled away by Lilly while the groom effortlessly picks up the conversation with Miguel. She brings you aside, within the sight of the two men.

“Tell me everything!” She pounces on you like a tiger, demanding to know your first encounter. You give what you hope was a easy smile. “We’re… colleagues.” You don’t think exposing both your superhero personas would do well, not especially when you got here by inter dimensional traveling.

Your friend seems to be satisfied by this as she squeals. She hits your shoulder a little too aggressively, wanting more. You sigh, hoping that Miguel wasn’t being interrogated this intensively on his end.

“We just had the same interests and kind of clicked.” You prayed that the questioning would stop soon. “Everything was just a blur after.”

Lilly nods, throughly invested in your fake love story. She’s about to ask another question when a sharp voice pierced through the air, causing you to be rooted to the ground. You really wanted to run away at that moment.

“What is this that I’m hearing? You’re actually seeing someone?” The clack of heels come to a stop and you find yourself facing your tormentor.

“It’s nice to see you too, Becca.” You grit through your teeth. The woman remains oblivious to your discomfort as she addresses the two others trailing behind her. “I wonder who’s the lucky man nice enough to pick her up!”

“That’s enough, I invite you to my wedding out of our friendship but this doesn’t give you the right to insult her.” Lilly shoots back, keeping her eyes trained on your curled fists.

“It’s alright, Lils.” You try to remain calm. “Let’s go. I’ll tell you everything later.” You take the lead to escort her back when Becca’s comment brings you to a halt.

“I bet he isn’t even real!”

Although she was right, you couldn’t help but to turn around, wanting to give Becca and her posse a piece of your mind. Something that you should have done a very long time ago.

“Oh, I’m very real alright.”

You see Miguel walking up towards the trio. Was it just you or did Miguel look… angry?

He composes himself, giving a charming grin to the trio who looked like they were going to start falling at his feet any moment.

“Miguel O’Hara. She has told me a lot about you three.”

“Oh, she has?” Becca twirls the edge of her skirt nervously and you don’t know where Miguel is going with this.

“Sure. She’s told me all about how you three dimwits made her entire life hell. Honestly? I don’t even know how that happened when she’s a hundred times classier with more substance than you plastics claim to have.” Miguel catches your eye and gives a quick wink.

“Excuse me?” Becca stutters. “Oh, I get it. She must have paid you to say that!”

Miguel walks over and gently loops an arm over your shoulders. By now, the conversation seemed to have attracted every guest who were lining up at the buffet table.

“Nope. But you know what she is? She is the most courageous and selfless person who wouldn’t hesitate to help others. I don’t think you three would even come close to understanding what that means.”

Miguel has done it. He’s left them speechless and every guest is know giving disapproving looks to the trio who can only storm away in embarrassment.

“I think I’m not that hungry yet. How about we take a walk?”

You realize that Miguel is asking you, so you nod numbly and find yourself being led out of the venue. You see Lilly standing at the entrance greeting guests.

Catching your eyes, she gives you a thumbs up and a mischievous grin, not bothered at all about the verbal altercation that was inadvertently caused by you. Amidst the chaos, one thought was clear in your mind.

Just what is going on?

***

The rainbow colored blocks providing as seats for families, friends and couples to take photos makes the sea look even clearer. Silence overtaking the two of you, you busy yourself with noticing how the jagged edges of the rocks are a wonderful addition to the waves crashing near the shore.

“What’s going on up there?”

Finally. You prepare yourself, stopping beside the statue. “I was just about to ask you the same thing O’Hara.” You take a brave step closer towards the hulking man and he briefly looks away before staring back at you. “Not that I’m ungrateful but that wasn’t like you.”

“Then, what am I supposed to be?”

You paused. “Well… you’re supposed to be grumpy and grouchy and keeping me at arm’s length I guess?” You search for the right words as Miguel contains a chuckle seeing how flustered you were becoming by the second. “And you’re suddenly being nice to me? Hell would have to freeze over.”

Miguel closes the already small gap between the two of you and you suddenly feel hot at his gaze. He examines you for a while and you think he’s about to deliver another sharp retort.

“I did try. I tried to keep you away but you were too bright and cheerful for your own good.” Miguel gruffly tells you. “You were so much like her.”

You knew that he was referring to his past. His wife whom no one really dared to talk about. You finally understood. To him, you were a walking and living painful reminder.

“I’m sorry.” You breathed out. The air suddenly constricts in your lungs and you feel the need to get away. Anywhere but here. You turn around and find yourself being pulled into him. Miguel hugs you, and he hugs you tight.

“No, I’m the idiot. I punished you for seeing you as someone else.” He confesses. “I should have just seen you as… you. You were so bright and so brave, I almost lost it when you took the bullets from Kingpin. That’s when I knew my behavior had to stop. I wanted to tell you and I guess I saw this as the perfect opportunity.”

“Oh.” You don’t know how else to react to this sudden revelation.

“But I meant every word. About me apologizing for my past behavior.” Miguel continues. “And that. Earlier on.” He refers to his relentless counter attack on your tormentors. “I didn’t know that you had to go through all that.”

“Hey, we all go through things right? Kind of a ticket to join the spider society.” You try to lighten things up. “Besides, it’s nothing big.”

Miguel pries you away gently, a slight frown on his face. “Don’t minimize your struggles. You are a hundred times stronger than those three combined. After all, that’s what made you stood out to me in the first place.”

Your heart swells at his statement. As you hear the waves crashing, it felt as if like it gave you a sense of newfound confidence as well. It was all or nothing now. You’re inches away from Miguel, his rosy cheeks prominent from the strong breeze that the coastal city offered. “I just have one more question.”

Miguel cocks his head to the side, curious. He doesn’t interrupt, giving permission for you to go ahead.

“You love me. Real or not real?”

He takes you by the waist, lips on yours. It could be minutes or hours before he lets go, leaving you in a daze. But the movement of his lips are as clear as day. One that would be forever etched in your memory.

“Real.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman: across the spiderverse

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Representation

Oh, so NOW child abuse is bad. Could have fooled me last episode!

Let's get into the twenty-fifth episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fifth season: Representation

We start off with an English news report recapping the ending of “Revolution”, stating that Ms. Bustier is going to run for mayor, conveniently ignoring her attempted coup in “Collusion”. We also see that Gabriel and Tomoe are still uncomfortably focused on making Adrien and Kagami appear to be a couple in public, much to their dismay. While Kagami is visited by Argos (who once again sneaks up on her, like he usually does), Adrien realizes he can transform into his space form and see Marinette whenever he wants and transforms into Cat Noir, planning to reveal his identity to Marinette. Hey, did he even tell Ladybug about his sudden departure? Because it didn't go well the last time he left Paris without telling her (New York Special).

We then cut to Marinette right after the events of “Revolution”, going to the end of the year dance... even though when we saw Adrien and Kagami in London, the sun was still setting, and France's time zone is only about an hour later, meaning Adrien and Kagami must have flown there at ludicrous speed.

Meanwile, Argos and Kagami somehow got from London to Paris offscreen, and watch Marinette from afar, with Kagami revealing she knows she's Ladybug. They decide to tell Marinette that Felix knows who Monarch is in order to ensure his downfall. Nah, I'm just kidding. Here's the real reason they're coming to Marinette for help.

Kagami: My mother and Gabriel Agreste will never allow us to love each other freely. Only Ladybug can help us.

Yep, rather than prioritize the fact that Gabriel is endangering the citizens of Paris on a daily basis, Kagami is seriously more concerned about her relationship with her boyfriend being tampered with. This is like saying Lex Luthor is evil because he cheats on his taxes. Argos transforms back into Felix, and... oh, for the love of God... he disguises himself as Adrien in order to get closer to Marinette. You can't keep portraying Felix as this master of disguise if he only has ONE disguise!

Marinette sees “Adrien” and assumes he came back from London from her, assuming her boyfriend is much more active that the writers actually believe he is, so she tries to follow him while avoiding the guests at the party. Meanwhile, Gabriel and Tomoe learn their children are gone, so he goes to talk with Nathalie and—why the hell is she like that?

Seriously, this has never been established as something that happens when someone uses the broken Peacock Miraculous. Why didn't this happen to Emilie? She looks pretty healthy in her little coffin, and I doubt Gabriel is an embalmer.

Anyway, after Nathalie once again reminds us that she hates Gabriel, but not enough to call the cops on him, Gabriel transforms into Monarch and immediately detransforms back in order to akumatize himself into Nightormentor.

Nightormentor is a pretty average recolor of the Collector's design, which kind of makes sense, considering that Gabriel himself intended the Akuma for himself. The star pattern is okay, but there's not much I can really say. As for his powers, he's just another Sandboy, being able to force people to hallucinate their worse nightmares, only instead of a pillow, his weapon is a staff created from a pen containing the Akuma, with the Horse Miraculous' Voyage to boot. Why he didn't just give himself the same powers he gave Truth when he's trying to find Adrien is anyone's guess.

Cat Noir arrives at the Eiffel Tower to talk with Marinette, just as Nightormentor appears. The two fight, and after a few civilians get caught in the crossfire, Nightormentor escapes through Voyage. As Cat Noir heads to the Dupain-Cheng bakery at the advising of Max, Alya and Nino decide that the totally not useless Resistance should get involved.

While Marinette gives chase, Felix leads her into the school's art classroom, where he transforms into Argos and creates a Sentimonster using Kagami's ring. Felix and Kagami use the Sentimonster's power to do... uh... whatever the hell this is.

Yeah, this is basically a flashback, but the animators probably blew their budget needed for the new models on Ms. Bustier's baby bump, so we're getting this instead, thanks to the Sentimonster Argos created. There are several scenes of Cat Noir and Nightormentor interspersed, but like what I did with Marinette's flashback in “Derision”, I'll give you the summary before I talk about my problems with this.

When Adrien's mother and aunt, Emilie and Amelie, were born, Emilie (who was born seven seconds early) was trusted with the family heirlooms, the two rings we first saw all the way back in “Felix”. Even though this meant she would inherit the family name, Emilie didn't really like doing... whatever the Graham de Vanily family wanted her to do, but Amelie did. Eventually, while studying abroad, Emilie met Gabriel, and the two fell in love. Before marrying Gabriel, Emilie gave up her role as the sole inheritor of the Graham de Vanily family's vague legacy, while Amelie married a man named Colt to please her parents. Both couples wanted children, but it's heavily implied that Emilie and Amelie were infertile, so their wishes weren't able to come true. Emilie finally managed to get a bun in the oven thanks to the Peacock Miraculous, but this made Colt jealous that he couldn't have a child. Out of the goodness of her heart, Emilie asked Gabriel to give the Peacock Miraculous to Colt, in exchange for letting the Gorilla guard Adrien in the future. Using his own jealousy as a source of power, Colt got Amelie pregnant, though at the cost of his health. Colt figured this was the price he had to pay for using “sorcery”, and used this as an excuse to treat Felix like a monster and ordered him around using the ring containing his Amok. Felix himself was unaware that he wasn't human until Colt accidentally broke the ring (which wasn't one of the two wedding rings used to control Adrien and was an entirely different ring containing Felix's Amok), which he stole as soon as Colt died. This is meant to explain why Felix decided to steal back the Peacock Miraculous, in order to save his life. Felix later met Kagami, and the two explain that they need “Someone like Ladybug” to help them.

Now if your only information about this episode is through my summary, it seems simple enough. For everyone else who actually saw this sequence in the episode itself, I'm guessing your thoughts were about the same as mine.

Let's go over every problem I have with this scene, starting with...

#1: The Way Kagami and Felix Explain This

Let me just ask something: Why can't Felix just talk to Marinette about what he knows since he now knows she's Ladybug instead of telling her everything through this weird play? You can still tell Marinette all of this without your two-man show. In fact, why did Felix have to wait until he knew Marinette was Ladybug instead of just talking to her the next time he saw her? Yeah, you could argue it's easier this way, but like I've been saying since Season 4, Felix has had no excuse to wait this long to tell Ladybug about the fact that he knows who her greatest enemy is.

And why the hell is it presented this way? Why does Felix have to recontextualize the story of his family's history in the form of a play? Why turn it into a stereotypical fairy tale that leaves out the names of all the important people, like Emilie, Amelie, Colt (whose name I only learned through the transcript of this episode), and Gabriel? If it was like a hidden message Felix and Kagami wanted to convey to Marinette, that would make sense, but why do they have to be so cryptic when they're only putting this show on for one person? You could easily avoid a good chunk of the questions this raises if this was a show Felix and Kagami put on for the public that Marinette was able to learn the information from. Yeah, it still wouldn't explain why Felix can't just tell Marinette about who Gabriel really is, but at least it's something.

The way it all happens kind of reminds me of this scene from this old Halloween special I saw a lot as a kid, Scary Godmother: Halloween Spooktacular. In that scene, some of the kids act out a scene of this little girl's parents entrusting her with a flashlight to explain why she carries it around, in order to scare off any monsters she runs into, using the graveyard they were in as a makeshift set. This scene works a lot more because it's done in more of a tongue-in-cheek way, with some of the kids breaking character to boost their own egos (for example, the kid playing the mom comments about how responsible she is), and how one kid in particular gradually gets fed up with the whole thing. The scene does its job at delivering exposition in a way that isn't meant to be taken too seriously, and it's clear this is being done by some kids goofing around in-universe.

With this episode, it's clear that the writers want the audience to take this whole backstory seriously in spite of how absurd it all is. Seriously look at this.

We are seriously expected to take this backstory seriously when it looks like some theater major's midterm project. The animators want it to look artsy and unique for the sake of making it look artsy and unique. Why does it look like a play these two put together themselves if they're supposedly using a Sentimonster's power to do it? If the unnamed Sentimonster's powers is how Marinette is seeing all this, why can't it actually be seen as a flashback? Was it always intended to be a handmade play that was changed to the product of a Sentimonster at the last minute?

I get that the animators probably wanted kids to pick up on the visuals of the play, but even then, it makes it hard to really stomach the serious themes this backstory brings up, like infertility and child abuse, with the way they're presented. Not only do Felix and Kagami all play the characters using these white jumpsuits and masks, they also do all the voices, meaning that the only “dialogue” we hear from Colt is delivered by Kagami putting on a deeper voice. Let me repeat that: the only times we hear Colt, the abusive parent and all around garbage human being, talk, it's done by a teenage girl trying to make her voice sound deeper.

But hey, maybe the goofy voice will be overshadowed by the nuanced depiction of child abuse, right? Right?

#2: The Portrayal of Colt and the Double Standards Regarding His Treatment of Felix

I have never seen a single show struggle this much to convey a lesson as simple as “Child abuse is bad”.

When it comes to the parents in this show, terrible parents like Gabriel, Audrey, and Tomoe are almost never held accountable for the way they treated their children. If the writers aren't claiming they really love their children deep down, they're either downplaying how cruel they are at best or playing their behavior for laughs at worst. But here we are, the penultimate episode of the fifth season, and we finally have a parent who is unambiguously treated as a terrible human being with no redeeming qualities... and I still have problems with this.

This flashback really goes out of its way to let the audience that Colt was a real piece of scum in life. He only wanted a child out of jealousy, used his Amok to force Felix to do whatever he wanted, was heavily implied to have physically beat him at times, and blamed him for his poor health on his deathbed when he was the one who wanted to use the Peacock in the first place. Now that I think about it, why did Colt even use the Peacock to create Felix instead of Emelie? Was the episode so determined to paint Colt as a bastard that he wanted to be the one to create Felix himself?

The point I'm trying to make is that the show doesn't really explain why Colt was like this. Why was he such an angry man who treated his only child like crap? I don't know, because all the show's telling me is that he was just a dick. He honestly feels more like a caricature than anything else. He's only as terrible of a person he is in order to make the audience sympathize with Felix. I'm not saying that what Felix went through was okay, but it has the same energy as scenes of Gabriel talking to Emilie's body. It's mostly there to make the audience sympathize with an antagonistic character in spite of all the things they've done.

What's really weird is that even though the whole point of this play is so Felix can tell Marinette Gabriel is Monarch, so what does Colt have to do with this? I'm not saying he's not worth mentioning, but it makes no sense for Felix to tell Marinette about his abusive father before he tells her about Gabriel. It feels more like Felix wants to find a way to excuse his actions before telling Marinette about Gabriel being Monarch. And remember when “Derision” made a big deal about Chloe's terrible parents not excusing her actions? Funny how that conveniently doesn't apply to Felix in this episode.

In fact, let's talk about the elephant in the room: The fact that this episode aired right after “Revolution”, an episode that literally said a character living under an abusive and controlling parent was a fitting punishment for her. HOW THE HELL IS THIS ANY DIFFERENT FROM THAT? If anything, this episode really shows the double standards this show has about child abuse, how the only way your situation can be taken seriously is if you're a “good victim”. Chloe's a “bad victim”, so she doesn't get any sympathy when her mother outright says she's going to take control of her life, yet when Colt actually takes control of Felix's life, we're supposed to sympathize with him now. Why am I supposed to feel bad for Felix now when you just told me I shouldn't feel bad for someone in a similar situation last episode?

In fact, one theory I have about this backstory is that it was intended to kill two birds with one stone, no pun intended. I believe that this episode wasn't just written to give us more insight into who Felix is as a character, but also to show the audience what “real” child abuse is like. As far as the show is concerned with Gabriel, Audrey, and Tomoe? They're not actually abusive parents, Colt is, so you should condemn his actions, and not those three. It's blatant double standards, which is nothing new for this show.

#3: The Way Amelie Just... Lets This All Happen

In my “Derision” review, I discussed how strange it was that so many people in Marinette's life did nothing to help her against Chloe, and the same thing applies here with Amelie.

This episode never really explains where Amelie was when Colt was abusing Felix, much less if she was even aware of it. At least with Marinette's parents, they didn't know because most of Marinette's suffering was at school. Amelie lives with Felix and Colt, so what's her excuse? She seriously didn't overhear Colt yelling at Felix or notice the orders Colt gave Felix? Was she just that ignorant to her child's suffering? Remember, this is supposed to be Felix's good parent.

In fact, does Amelie even know Felix is a Sentimonster? Yeah, “Emotion” established that Amelie knows Felix is Argos, but this episode doesn't really make it clear if she knows Felix is a Sentimonster or not. If it was clear Amelie knew nothing about what Felix really was, it would arguably make things easier to stomach, as she wouldn't know the power Colt had over him.

Instead, even though she's Felix's mother, the show doesn't really explain what she actually did when Colt was making Felix's life a living hell, especially since the flashback says that Amelie was forced to marry Colt, so you can't even say she was blinded by love here. Hell, I'm not even sure if Amelie knew the cause of Colt's untimely passing.

#4:This Doesn’t Really Do Much to Explain Felix’s Actions

Now before you say I'm being insensitive, let me make one thing clear: My issue isn't with the fact that this was done to get the audience to sympathize with Felix. The problem I have is that the backstory doesn't do enough to explain why Felix did the things he did.

Okay, Felix wants the Peacock Miraculous. Understandable, he doesn't want to die, so he has to do morally questionable things to preserve his life like betraying the only person capable of stopping the man who can kill him. What's less understandable is his plan to get the Peacock Miraculous from Gabriel. You'll notice that the backstory didn't mention Felix's first appearance, where he only stole the rings belonging to Amelie's family, and he didn't even think to look for the Peacock. Instead, it cuts from Felix realizing he's a Sentimonster to him striking a deal with Gabriel, not even mentioning that he gave Gabriel back one of the rings as part of the deal, which still makes no sense.

If Felix's goal from the start was to get the Peacock Miraculous, why did he bother stealing all of Marinette's Miraculous as a bargaining chip for the deal instead of the family ring? In fact, why did Felix even steal the ring and wait an entire season to trade it back to Gabriel for the Peacock a season later? And for someone who claims to care about Adrien, he really didn't see anything wrong with giving Gabriel one of the two rings capable of overriding his free will.

As a matter of fact, why the hell is Felix even so hostile towards Adrien? Why did he go out of his way to smear his reputation in his debut episode if all he wanted to do was make a bargain with Hawkmoth? In “Risk”, he mocked Adrien for how he talked, while Adrien himself was aware of how he made him look bad in front of his friends, and that's not even getting into how he made himself look like Adrien as part of his plan to betray Ladybug, which would have screwed him even more if Adrien wasn't already Cat Noir. For someone who claims he wants to protect him from Gabriel, Felix really doesn't care about his cousin all that much.

In fact, why does Felix even hate Gabriel at all? The show hinted that the two had a history, yet during the backstory, which I need to remind you, was told from Felix's perspective on the events, has a surprisingly generous portrayal of Gabriel. Did Felix know Gabriel was Hawkmoth/Shadowmoth/Monarch during his first appearance? Does Felix blame Gabriel for how Colt treated him growing up? Does Felix hate Gabriel for how he treats Adrien? Did Gabriel intend to get Colt sick in the first place? Seriously, what is Felix's deal with Gabriel?!

How does a flashback organized by Felix himself do nothing to really explain why he did the things he did?

#5: The Fact That There Are STILL Several Unanswered Questions Here

For something meant to fill the audience in on several important topics, there are still so many questions about the history of the Agreste and Graham de Vanily families.

Other than the vague backstory about them being rich, we still know nothing about Emilie and Amelie other than them being rich and possibly infertile. We don't know if Amelie ever loved Colt, if she knew he was abusing Felix, or if she even knew if he used the Peacock to play god.

On a related note, why did Emilie and Gabriel decide to use the Peacock Miraculous to create a son instead of adopting? Scratch that, why did she specifically create a Sentimonster to give birth to like a normal baby? Was there some kind of Macbeth-esque guideline that Emilie had to give birth to a child in order for said child to get the inheritance? Did she use the ring to control Adrien like Gabriel does now? Seriously, this is the character the show's conflict is all based around, and we still know nothing about her other than the fact that she was nice.

This flashback just makes no sense, and is such a stupid and confusing way to deliver exposition.

Anyway, during all this, Cat Noir and Nightormentor are fighting, and for the third time this season, Cat Noir attempts to Cataclysm him someone, even when he had Nightormentor pinned down. Nightormentor breaks free and hits Cat Noir with his magic dust, causing him to hallucinate... Cat Blanc?

Yeah, the script calls this form “Anticat”, but given how it looks like a reused Cat Blanc model coupled with the petrified people of Paris, this is clearly meant to bring Cat Blanc to mind. The problem is that NEITHER CAT NOIR OR NIGHTORMENTOR KNOW ABOUT THAT. Why would you remind audiences about an Akuma that technically never existed?

Better yet, is this what Cat Noir trying to his Cataclysm on people this past season (Destruction, Jubilation, Derision) has been building up to? The fear that he'll lose control? You could have fooled me, as he never really showed that much remorse for almost hurting people other than Monarch. Yeah, you could argue that because Nightormentor based his hallucinations off his victims' worst fears, but again, this fear had little to no buildup this season because Cat Noir never felt any guilt for Cataclysming Monarch after “Destruction”, and whenever tried to use his Cataclysm on other people, Cat Noir never really realized the weight of his actions. If you want to make a character arc about Cat Noir worrying about hurting people with his powers, go more into the guilt he feels for hurting Monarch and using that guilt to affect his actions. Don't just use some “Cat Blanc” nostalgia bait to convince the audience that there's been a character arc.

Nightormentor takes advantage of Cat Noir's emotional state to get his Miraculous, only for the Resistance to save Cat Noir by... throwing stuff at him. And this is how they defeat him. While Nino, Alya, Ivan, and Zoe distract Nightormentor, Kim and Max help Cat Noir focus, Cat Noir Cataclysms Nightormentor's baton.

Zoe traps the Akuma in a jar, Cat Noir doesn't take it, he heads off to detransform and confess to Marinette, only for the hallucination to still affect him since Ladybug didn't use Miraculous Ladybug to fix the damage, and even though he knows it's just a hallucination, he still uses it as a reason to not reveal his identity to Marinette, even after Ladybug de-evilizes the Akuma herself.

The episode ends with Gabriel and Tomoe locking Adrien and Kagami in these white rooms while under heavy surveillance to ensure they won't escape, vowing to start “Operation: Perfect Alliance”. Because these two like using the word “perfect” more than they like subjecting their children to what one of my anons referred to as “white torture”.

Because that's a good way to keep your children under control: psychological torment.

Other than the stuff with Felix and Kagami, this episode was pretty dull.

There's just not much I can really say here. The plot was barebones, all Marinette did was listen to Felix and Kagami's story so the writers didn't have to involve any of them in the main conflict, and even Cat Noir confronting his akumatized father doesn't have a lot of weight to it because towards the end, it focuses more on Adrien's nightmare instead of his relationship with his father.

This episode is nothing more than a prologue for the final battle. It's only here to establish Adrien and Kagami's presence in London, Marinette learning Gabriel is Monarch, and even more setup for Gabriel and Tomoe's final plan. And trust me, the buildup will be far from worth it.

THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS... FELIX

It's amazing. The only time this season Felix goes out of his way to actually help Ladybug, and he still screws it up. He abducted Kagami from her hotel in London without thinking of Tomoe hunting him down again when that was the entire plot of “Pretension”, only decided to tell Marinette he knows who Monarch is because he's getting in the way of his relationship with his girlfriend, did so in an unnecessarily convoluted way, and even though he made a big deal about not wanting to use Sentimonsters in his last appearance, he still used one to tell Marinette his life story instead of just saying “My uncle is Monarch”.

And if you think Felix will get a chance to truly redeem himself in the finale, think again, bucko. Other than a brief cameo, this is the last thing he'll do this season. Aren't you glad the writers made this character prominent for seven episodes over three seasons and did nothing else with him?

#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug salt #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #cat noir #felix graham de vanily #argos #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #hawk moth #monarch #nightormentor #kagami tsurugi #nathalie sancoeur #tomoe tsurugi #emilie agreste #amelie graham de vanily #colt fathom #Youtube

[moonstruckme]

Hey!! I saw your posts about colour blind!reader and reader with hearing problems and i really love them, I have to wear hearing aids myself so it is really lovely to see some representation!! So I was wondering if you could do remus x reader (or any marauder i don't mind) where the readers hearing aids broke and remus has to help them communicate for the day while they wait to get them fixed? If you aren't comfortable with that don't worry<33

I'm so glad you liked them sweetness, thanks for requesting! Unfortunately I don't have anyone in my life who uses hearing aids that I could consult about this, so I had to rely on the internet and apologize for any inaccuracies <33

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 653 words

“Moony,” James says, cocking his head at you inside Remus’ car. You’re sitting placidly in the passenger seat while the car trembles with bass. “What’s she doing?”

“She likes the vibrations,” Remus replies, carrying a giant tupperware container of chili. Ever since he moved in with Lily, James has taken to “accidentally” making too much of nearly every meal they have so that his friends are forced to come over and take home leftovers. (“I thought the recipe was supposed to be tripled,” James had said over the phone. “You’ve gotta take some off my hands, Moony, it’s gonna go bad.”) 

“She’s gonna be shaking the whole block if she turns that up any louder,” Sirius says, following them out of the house. “How can she stand it?”

“Hearing aids broke yesterday,” Remus explains, opening the passenger door. James flinches at the sound that bursts out, and Remus hands you the chili before reaching around you to turn down the dial on the radio. “We’re waiting for the shop to call so we can pick them up,” he finishes. 

You wave at the boys, and they wave back with smiles somewhat bemused. 

“How bad is her hearing without them?” James asks concernedly. 

You go to respond, having read the question on his lips, but Remus sets a hand on your shoulder. 

Hold on, he signs to you. This will be more fun. 

You roll your eyes, but play along with his game, letting Remus speak for you as if you can’t do it yourself. 

“She can’t hear much of anything,” Remus says. It’s the honest truth, though he neglects to mention that you’re still perfectly capable of speaking and also quite skilled at reading lips even without the aids. “Some loud noises or things with a deep pitch, but not enough to make out speech.” 

“Huh,” James says. “Well, tell her I hope she enjoys the chili.” 

This is great, Remus signs to you. I never get to practice. 

You’re mean, you sign back, even as your lips twitch at the corners.

“She says she’s sure she will,” Remus says. “Thanks for saving us some.” 

James grins. “No problem.” 

“If she really likes vibrations, she should come take a ride on my bike sometime,” Sirius suggests, and he’s smiling, because he knows exactly how Remus will feel about that offer. Remus hates the idea of even Sirius, let alone you, on a motorcycle. “Tell ‘er, Moons.” 

You’re already looking at Remus with a mischievous smile. 

No way, he tells you. Not happening.

Buzzkill, you fingerspell. 

Remus shrugs, and he doesn’t need to sign anything for you to read and what about it? in his expression. 

“Ooh, they’re fighting,” Sirius deduces, laughing darkly. “This sign language stuff isn’t so hard to pick up on, is it Prongs? You can get the general meaning from their faces.” 

Remus plasters on a smile. Not hard? I’ve been learning for two years, he vents to you. 

You give a little laugh. Don’t listen, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. But at least tell him I said thanks for the offer.

Remus turns to Sirius. “She says fuck you.” 

You make a sound of offense, slapping Remus’ arm lightly. 

“Okay, okay,” he relents. “She said thank you for the offer. But no.” 

“It’s crazy,” James says with a little smile. “Everything you’re claiming she says sounds exactly like what you would say if you could choose, Moony.” He glances at you, and you raise your eyebrows like I know, right?

“Alright, we’d better be off,” Remus decides, shutting your door for you and rounding the front of the car. “Thanks for the chili, Prongs. And Pads, your bike is banned to her, so don’t offer again.” 

“Buzzkill,” Sirius calls after him, but Remus pretends not to hear, shutting his door. 

“Hey,” you say, your voice a bit louder than you’d usually allow. You’re grinning at Remus. “That’s exactly what I said!”

#remus lupin #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x hearing impaired!reader #hearing impaired!reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x self insert #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin one shot #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #sirius black #james potter #marauders fanfiction #the marauders era #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #marauders fandom #hp marauders

[bowtiepastabitch]

Heaven's Not Homophobic in Good Omens, and Why That's Important

I need to preface this with, I am not trying to start a fight or argument and won't tolerate any homophobic or bad faith arguments in response to this. Cool? Cool.

This is in large part inspired by this ask from Neil's blog, which sparked some discourse that I don't want to get involved in but that brought up some analytic questions for me.

He goes on to reblog a question asking about Uriel's taunt specifically, clarifying that "boyfriend in the dark glasses" can just as easily be read/translated from angelic as girlfriend or bosom buddy. The idea is that an angel and a demon "fraternizing" is seriously looked down upon, not that heaven is homophobic. And that's super important.

We see homophobia in both the book and show, of course. Aziraphale is very queer-coded, intentionally and explicitly so, and we see the reaction of other humans to that several times. Sergeant Shadwell, for example, and the kid in the book that calls him the f-slur when he's doing magic at Warlock's birthday party. These are, however, individual human reactions to his coding as a gay man.

I am, personally, not a fan of heaven redemption theories for the show; no hate for people who want that it's just not something I'm interested in. I don't believe that heaven is good with bad leadership, or that God Herself remains as a paragon of virtue. To me, that's not in line with the themes and messages of the show. It's important, however, that heaven doesn't reflect human vices. Heaven can be nasty and selfish and apathetic in its own right without ableism, homophobia, transphobia, or racism. This matters for two reasons.

Firstly, we don't need the -isms and -phobias to be evil or at least ethically impure. In a world where we spend so much time fighting against prejudice and bigotry, our impulse is to see that reflected in characters whose motivations we distrust or who we're intended to dislike. While it's true that that's often the big bad evil in our daily lives, it can really cheapen the malice in fictional evil from a storytelling standpoint. A villain motivated by racism or as an allegory for homophobia can be incredibly compelling, but not every bad guy can be the physical representation of an -ism. Art reflects the reality in which it's crafted, but the complexity of human nature and the evil it's capable of can't be simplified to a dni list.

Secondly, and I think more importantly, is that for Good Omens specifically, this places the responsibility for homophobia on humanity. If you're in this fandom, there's like a 98% chance you've been hurt by religion in some way. For a lot of us, that includes religious homophobia and hate, so it makes sense to want to project that onto the 'religious' structure of Good Omens. It's a story that is, in many ways, about religious trauma and abuse. However, if heaven itself held homophobic values, it would canonize in-universe the idea that heaven and religion itself are responsible for all humanity's -isms and -phobias and absolve humans of any responsibility. Much like Crowley emphasizes repeatedly that the wicked cruelty he takes responsibility for is entirely human-made, we have to accept that heaven can't take the blame for this. To make heaven, the religious authority, homophobic would simply justify religious bigotry from humans. By taking the blame for religious extremism and hatred away from heaven and the religious structure, Good Omens makes it clear that the nastiness of humanity is uniquely and specially human and forces the individual to take responsibility rather than the system. Hell isn't responsible for the Spanish Inquisition, which by the way was religiously motivated if you didn't know, and heaven isn't responsible for Ronald Reagan.

This idea is perhaps more strongly and explicitly expressed in the Good Omens novel, in the scene where Aziraphale briefly possesses a televangelist on live TV. It's comedic, yes, but also serves to demonstrate that human concepts of the apocalypse and religious fervor are deeply incorrect (in gomens universe canon) and condemn exploitation of faith practices. Pratchett and Gaiman weave a great deal of complexity into the way religion and religious values are portrayed in the book, especially in the emphasis on heaven and hell being essentially the same. They're interested in the concept of what it means to be uniquely and unabashedly human, the good and the bad, and part of that is forcing each individual person to bear the brunt of responsibility for their own actions rather than passing it off onto a greater religious authority.

Additionally, from a fan perspective, there's something refreshing about a very queer story where homophobia isn't the primary (or even a side) conflict. The primary narrative of Good Omens isn't that these two man-shaped-beings are gay, it's that they're an angel and a demon. The tension in their romantic arc arises entirely from the larger conflict of heaven and hell, and things like gender and sexuality don't really matter at all. Yes, homophobia and transphobia are very real, present issues in our everyday lives, but they don't have to be central to every story we tell. There's something really soothing about Crowley and Aziraphale being so queer-coded and so clearly enamored with each other without constantly being bombarded with homophobia and hate. It's incredible to see a disabled angel whose use of a mobility aid makes no difference in their role and to see angels and demons using they/them pronouns without being questioned or misgendered. It's all accepted and normalized, and that's the kind of representation that we as queer people deserve.

#anywho that got real long #good omens #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #media analysis #good omens analysis #queer coding #queer representation #ineffable husbands #gomens #aziraphale x crowley #anywho happy valentines day #love my fandom #not beta read or majorly edited because I'm a busy guy with homework so lmk if there's any errors that need correcting (politely!)

[pillarsalt]

hi um

I was? transmasc but recently I’ve been seeing a lot of really misogynistic sexist transphobic stuff from trans community and it’s just been totally accepted, even by other transmascs. It’s been going on for a while but recently there was a murder of a nonbinary afab person and yet the whole trans community here has been silent, instead screaming about a transfem user being banned or something? This isn’t the first time an afab trans persons suffering has been dismissed, but now right after this awful death, i see transfems making posts about how transmascs talking about their oppression are terfs.

I didn’t want to think about it but all i could think about was that it was weird how despite everyone claiming trans men have all this privilege, trans women always come first…they get the most representation, they get the fame the admiration and the opportunities, their voices are always the loudest and their problems always always come first no matter what.

But despite popular belief trans men’s issues aren’t actually less significant, in some cases we suffer far more than trans women especially in regard to sexual violence. Yet we are silenced. We are frequently left poor, we are discriminated against for our sex we are discriminated against for being trans we are discriminated against for being perceived as lesbians. Yet we are made to be silent?

Why are our voices less important than trans women’s?

And all I could think about was that this is how females are treated in every other area.

I don’t know what else to say… I tried so hard not to reach that conclusion because I don’t want to be transmysogynist but I kept coming back to it and I couldn’t find an argument against it. This is how females are treated. This is what male privilege look like. And if trans women have male privilege, then why the fuck am I sitting here letting them talk over me?

I just feel really really angry. Your a blog who I liked your art but I blocked you when I discovered you were a radfem, but I sort of had you in the back of my mind for some reason and now I feel lost and confused, and I don’t think I want to be part of the trans community anymore.

Hey anon, firstly I really appreciate your willingness to have an open discussion with me. This must be weighing on you pretty heavily.

Secondly, holy shit, you're right. While the entire website is treating this user's ban as a national travesty, I haven't seen a single person talking about Nex's murder despite how much they claim to care about trans people. That's really fucking low, and this situation does very much encapsulate the state of misogyny within the trans community.

And you're right, this IS how females are treated in every other area. Throughout history, the suffering and injustice women face is minimized, laughed at, ignored, and when we want to talk about it, we're shut down and told we're making people uncomfortable and our pain isn't that bad. And here we are again, with a female person's death outweighed by a male person's inconvenience.

The denial of sex-based oppression that permeates trans spaces is a blatant lie that can only be held together if nobody is allowed to acknowledge it, and those who do are punished. If the trans community truly stood behind what they say, discussion would be encouraged! The foundation of their movement would be backed up with facts and replicable science! But instead, they'll call you a bigot for pointing out systems of oppression you can see with your own eyes. Because if you do, transwomen's position as Most Oppressed, and therefore the final authority on what's right and wrong, collapses. You are correct when you say that it seems like transwomen always come first; I don't remember who said it first, but just look at magazine covers featuring trans people -- the transwomen are fully clothed CEOs, athletes, movie stars, but transmen mostly get on magazine covers for... being pregnant and half naked. Misogyny is built into every society on earth, and individuals simply calling themselves something else doesn't change that. And when you give male people free reign to be as misogynistic as they want without consequence, they'll grab that opportunity and hold on like their lives depend on it. The way they weaponize transmen's sex against them is indistinguishable from what 'cis' men do to 'cis' women, but if you ever speak out about it, somehow YOU'RE the one hurting THEM. They do not want transmascs to find solidarity with other female people, because then they would have to face the reality of their own place in a patriarchal world, and face the fact that there are experiences exclusive to female people and that we have the right to speak about it. I mean you see shit like this and the motives become completely transparent:

I do find it funny how hard the trans community and their allies work to prevent anyone from hearing what radfems have to say in case they "corrupt" you with mere words. A lot of the time, it's simply listening to transwomen themselves that sparks the feeling of "something's not right here" in your brain. That's what happened with me too. I'll tell you that most of us also used to be proponents of trans activism, many formerly identifying as trans too. You are seeing through manipulation, and I know it's quite shocking to realize. Even when I first started having doubts about trans rhetoric, I thought "well everyone else agrees about this, so I need to shut up and be nice about it even if I don't agree." It's an unpleasant place to be in. The cognitive dissonance is exhausting though, and it becomes impossible to ignore.

The mistreatment of transmasc people in the trans community by transfems is brutal, and It's hard to watch from the outside because I just want to say "Hey, you know you don't have to take this shit, right?" And you really don't. You are not at all a bad person for recognizing the frankly absurd amount of misogyny in the trans community. Feeling lost and confused is shitty, but it's normal for this situation. The best thing you can do is keep observing, keep reading, form your own opinions, and never let anyone tell you to shut up. Above all, prioritize yourself and your mental wellbeing. If you need to remove yourself from gender-related spaces and discussion for a while, that's totally alright. Just know you're not evil or a bigot for not blindly agreeing with everything the trans community has told you. Your opinions and experiences are worthwhile too.

#also i'm glad you like my art :) thank you #ask

[sailoryooons]

Knocked | ksj | (m)

☾ Pairing: Streamer!Seokjin x f. reader

☾ Summary: Living with people is difficult, but all things considered, your new roommate isn’t terrible. He cooks, he cleans, and if you had to be honest - incredibly attractive. But his habit of streaming until the early hours of the morning while yelling and making other questionable noises has pushed you to the limit. You’ve finally decided to risk your sanity and put it all on the line with a reckless bet in hopes of getting some peace and quiet at night.

☾ Word Count: 10,673

☾ Genre: Roommates to lovers, smut, humor

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Cheesy humor, Jin is an annoying gamer, a lot of game talk, stupid bets, explicit language, references to an ungendered ex partner, a very cheesy plot i like cheese, jin crossing a boundary but he apologizes okay!!! sexually explicit content including oral (m. receiving) vaginal fingering, nipple play, a lot of body fluids like a loooot of spit and drool, protected vaginal sex, fast sex because they’re both overwhelmed and honestly this is vanilla but they are CUTE!!!!

☾ Published: January 19, 2023

☾ A/N: SHE IS HERE AND SHE ISN’T BEAUTIFUL OR EDITED BUT SHE IS FINISHED AND CHEESY AND THIS JIN IS REALLY CUTE OKAY. My inner gamer went fucking nuts in this I am so sorry I really like playing Apex Legends and I got too deep into the game lore so hopefully people can appreciate that. These two were just thirsty for each other and both busted nuts quickly okay it has happened to me jgdhgijhd thats tmi okay HAPPY READING.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Room for Rent Collab

A crash and a yell startle you in the kitchen, the spatula in your hand clattering into the egg pan as Seokjin lets out an unintelligible string of cursing and yelling. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you try and center yourself in patience. It’s not uncommon in your apartment for two to hear him suddenly break out into yelling, and it surely won’t be the last. 

Kim Seokjin isn’t the worst roommate. Not by a longshot, when you consider the horror stories you’ve read in Reddit threads and seen on TikTok. He’s clean, he has an aesthetic eye for decoration, he’s an amazing cook, he pays his portion of bills on time, and he doesn’t steal food. Nor does he hog any of the common spaces in the house.

The negative? Seokjin is constantly gaming, which wouldn’t be a bad thing if he gamed quietly. Namjoon hadn’t warned you that Seokjin was a large-scale streamer before you moved in, focused on first-person shooter content and paid tournaments. 

It had taken about three hours into moving in when he screamed for you to realize that there was no fixing that bit. 

Meal finished and plated, you move to the dining room, sitting cross-legged in the chair and turning on the TV louder than necessary to tune out Seokjin’s hollering. You’ve come up with plenty of ways to tune him out, and listening to everything else on extreme volume is the easiest. 

Your neighbors must hate you. 

Halfway through your meal and eyes glued to RuPaul’s Drag Race, Seokjin comes trailing out of his room, drawing your attention. It isn’t a hard thing to do. For a grown man who is chronically wired to his PC, he is beautiful. The kind of beauty that is used in dramas and romantic comedies kind of beautiful. 

Dark, soft hair that is usually left shaggy and air-dried from the shower but you know looks dashing styled back for parties, equally dark eyes that shimmer with delight when he tells a horrible joke that he thinks is particularly amusing, full lips that would earn the envy of Aphrodite herself - Seokjin is painfully, artfully perfect. 

Except for the constant gaming. 

“Wow, didn’t offer to make me breakfast?” he asks. It’s more of a jest than anything, popping the fridge open in search of a caffeinated beverage. “How little do I mean to you?” 

“Check the microwave, nerd.” 

He looks surprised, meandering to the appliance in question and opening the door to see a plate of breakfast for dinner inside. “Wow,” he sighs dreamily. “You really are my favorite roommate.”

“I’m your only roommate.”

“Well, you’re better than Namjoon.”

“Mmm. That isn’t a hard feat, I don’t chronically break pieces of furniture.”

Humming his agreement, Seokjin shoves eggs into his mouth, munching happily. “When are you going to finally play some games with me, huh?” 

“Mmmm never.”

“You think I don’t know you have a little setup in there?”

“I like Animal Crossing. You like Apex.”

“Come on, I can teach you Apex.”

It’s a conversation you’ve had a million times. Gaming is the single thing that the two of you have in common. When you first discovered that Seokjin worked in the digital sphere and was a content creator for popular games online, you were a bit worried. It wouldn’t have been the first time you had been fetishized for so much as liking a game. 

Thankfully, Seokjin was alright. He didn’t make it weird, and after a casual comparison of the things you liked to play, he decided that the interests weren’t common enough to be a huge pain in the ass about it. 

He did really want to play at least once, with you though.

“I know how to play Apex,” you mumble, eyes flickering back to the TV. Your last situationship revolved around playing the stupid first-person shooter together. “I don’t like it.”

As in, you were absolutely never playing that game again after being worn out from it and having it associated with someone who kind of sucked anyway. 

“How can you not like Apex?” Seokjin mutters, more to himself than anything else.

Thankfully he drops the subject, distracted by your show. He shuffles to the couch, where you join him eventually, both of you tucked into the cushions as you watch the show. For the most part, Seokjin is quiet, only peppering you with questions during the commercial breaks. You’re happy to answer. 

It’s comfortable, your little life with him. You’ve almost lived together for a year, and despite the annoying gaming thing and his habitual bad jokes, you like living with Seokjin. You like having him as a friend, even. 

Things are good.

-

Things are not good. You clench your jaw as you re-read the email, feeling the tension creep into your shoulders. You can already feel the headache that has not yet happened but is predestined. 

If people would just read their emails before sending a snarky request with your boss CC’d- 

Mark: Come by my office, please. 

Sighing, you push out from the desk and head toward your boss's office. Your stomach flips uneasily, unsettled as you walked by the windowed offices of the executive staff. It isn’t that you’re afraid of your boss, but you certainly have been having a bad enough day without having to explain that if Alicia in accounting had just read your email she wouldn’t be confused.

At the appointed office, you tap lightly on the door frame. “Hi, still a good time?”

It’s obviously a good time, but for some reason, you feel the need to break the tension by clarifying. Your boss is a wide-set man who ushers you in with a wave. “Catch the door for me, please.”

The door shuts with a click and it feels like impending doom. 

Sitting quickly in a chair, you wait with a racing heartbeat as Mark finishes writing an email. The silence is awkward so you distract yourself by looking at the pictures of him and his family on his shelves as if you haven’t seen them a dozen times, and looking at his nameplate and literally any other object in his office to keep from feeling uncomfortable. 

The horrible 70s rock that plays softly in the background only makes it worse. 

With a final click on his mouse, he turns to you and says, “Sorry about that, trying to get through all these damn sales contracts.”

“Sounds exhausting.” You have no idea if it is - sales isn’t your area of expertise. “I know they’ve been busy.”

“Tons of new clients, which is always great but the paperwork is a killer.” 

“Makes sense.” 

“What is Alice in accounts losing her mind about? I saw that you’re missing invoices for radio stations and it’s way past the cycle?” 

“As explained in my email to Alice, the station in question filed for bankruptcy and has a halt on all their funds. This was something I communicated two months ago with accounting and legal. I believe you may have been on it as well, though perhaps I left you off.” You didn’t leave him off. You don’t leave him off any emails. “Those invoices are all going to be a mess until that’s sorted.”

“Look,” he sighs. “We all have a shit ton going on right now. One email letting us know that payment would be an issue isn’t going to cut it. You can’t assume that we see the emails. Was it flagged as high-importance?”

“Yes.”

And I mentioned it in three meetings and a sticky note, you think. 

“See, it’s just not foolproof. It’s your job to overcommunicate these things. You can't rely on accounting or me to remember these things for you.”

You give him one slow blink. Then another. 

“Understood,” you answer, throat tightening. “I will make sure to overcommunicate from now on, I apologize for the confusion.” 

“Thanks,” he says, a dismissal. “Door closed on the way out, I have a stupid call to jump on.” 

Door closed behind you, you wonder how anyone gets anything fucking done around this place. Because of course doing all of the things logical and reasonable to communicate a change in accounting isn’t reasonable. Going above and beyond and being responsible for other people not reading their email is now your job to compensate for. 

Steam blowing from your ears, you march back toward your desk in a blind rage, fists open and closing. You don’t see it coming when Yoongi smacks into you, eyes glued to his phone and fresh iced-americano now coloring your blue shirt a nice shade of mud. 

“Holy fuck I am so sorry,” Yoongi swears. “Shit - fuck - sorry.” 

Cold leeches through you like a knife. You rush to the bathroom, Yoongi’s cursing and apologies drifting behind you. The press of paper towels lifts a little of the yellow from your shirt, but it doesn’t fix the sticky-cold cling of fabric to your chest and the unmistakable stain down the front of your outfit. 

“Fucking perfect.”

-

Blessedly Seokjin isn’t home when you arrive stained in dry coffee, smelling like Starbucks, and sagging with a delightful mix of rage, wrath, and irritation. Like an angry little storm cloud, you move around the apartment, snapping cabinets closed extra hard and yanking your blouse off with a little more violence than usual. 

A hot shower makes most of the tension bleed away, but not all of it vanishes. Wrapped in a towel and turned into a prune, you reach for the clothes on the counter and realized in your haste to peel yourself out of Yoongi’s coffee, you didn’t bring any with you. 

It doesn’t matter anyway. Seokjin isn’t home, so you yank the door open and march toward your room, running smack into your second person of the day with a startled yelp and thankfully, a very tight grip on your towel. 

“Why are you all wet?” Seokjin shrieks, wiping his shirt as though he could get rid of the you-shaped wet stain. “And naked!”

“I’m in a towel! Why are you here?”

“I live here!”

“I meant right now! You weren’t home!”

“Well, I do come home, usually! And I yelled I was home when I got here so you would hear me!”

“Well, I was in the shower!”

“Obviously!” 

For a moment, the two of you stand there. You’re dripping a puddle onto the tile and the cold air has goosebumps breaking out all over your body. You shiver as Seokjin’s eyes flicker down for a split second before he’s looking at the ceiling and gesturing. “Well - go find clothes!”

“I will! Jeez!” 

You storm into your room, slamming the door and pressing your back against it. Your towel is gripped tight in your fist, heart hammering. You’re both adults and while being in a towel in front of Seokjin isn’t embarrassing or scandalous, it was unexpected and new. 

As you get dressed quickly, you can’t help but think of the way his cheeks tinged pink and the nervous way he shifted. It was… cute. 

With clothes on, Seokjin seems a lot less nervous around you. He’s still a little stiff, you notice. You bump into him as the two of you navigate the kitchen together and he ducks his head, the tops of his ears red. You file the information away for another time, feeling your cheeks warm when you go to reach for a pair of tongs but he already has them held out to you. 

It isn’t uncommon behavior. He’s known you long enough to know your habits around the kitchen, and you’ve cooked enough meals together to recognize the patterns in which the two of you move around the kitchen. 

Music plays in the background, Seokjin humming along. Occasionally, he sings the words, voice low and soft over the notes.

“You have a nice voice,” you note as you flip the oven off. He’s always had a nice voice, but you’ve never said anything before. He raises his brows as you grab oven mitts. “You do,” you insist with a grin. “I promise I’m not lying.”

“A great voice to go with a great face right?”

“Ew, here we go.”

He moves out of your way as you open the oven, leaning on the counter and crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Maybe I should sing on stream. Do you think they would like that? People already think I’m the most handsome streamer.”

“Sure, maybe do some sort of caroling or something for the holidays.”

He pauses. “That’s actually not a terrible idea. What if I just called my friends who were streaming on Discord and started caroling to them? I could make it a charity thing and select streams based on donations.”

Placing the hot pan on the top of the stove, you glance at him sidelong. “Do you do charity streams a lot?”

“All the time. Most of the long streams I do are for charities.” 

“So it’s not all just… earning cash?”

“No, I get plenty of that.”

“So why do you need a roommate?” 

Seokjin leans over you, to pluck a fry off of the pan. He doesn’t move away immediately, eyes dropping down to yours as he sticks the french fry in his mouth. The warmth of his chest radiates through your shoulder where you touch and suddenly, you feel a buzz at his nearness.

It’s impossible not to drop your eyes down to his mouth as he chews. For a moment, you’re dazed by his pillow lips - they really are a marvel to look at. Then he’s smirking and murmuring, “For the cooking. Did you get these out of a frozen bag? Ugh.”

Spell broken you swat at him and he laughs, leaning away again. “I don’t like to be alone,” Seokjin admits. “Having a roommate is nice. Granted, I was supposed to be living with Namjoon until he and Jungkook decided to be in love and all that. Now I have you filling out the rest of his lease.”

“So you can afford to live alone in this city and don’t?”

“Hey, I also save a ton of money. I will want to buy a house one day. Consider yourself as a part of my savings tactic.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

Rooming with Seokjin had been of convenience. Finding affordable living in the city was nearly impossible - especially on your salary - and when Namjoon had announced after only two months of living with Seokjin that he and his boyfriend were getting their own place, it had timed up perfectly. You had been vaguely familiar with Seokjin at the time, and you desperately needed cheaper rent.

You’d never really asked why Seokjin had a roommate at all. He had a work-from-home job at a software company doing something that went far beyond your understanding, and he made a ton from streaming. 

Seokjin plops down on the couch instead of the dining room table, a plate full of chicken nuggets and fries balanced on his knee as he pats the seat next to him without looking. You definitely went the easy route for dinner after your terrible day, and Seokjin seems to pick up on the fact that tonight is an eat-from-the-comfort-of-the-couch kind of vibe. 

“Ugh,” Seokjin sighs as he watches Shangela get eliminated from the top four on All-Stars 3. “That is heartbreaking. She worked really hard.”

Seokjin has never really voiced being a fan of the show, but you have a sneaking suspicion he watches it because you are, and it’s something to bond over. Maybe you should play a round of Apex with him.

Instead, you say, “Yeah, she deserved it.” You pause. “Thanks for watching with me, tonight. I had a rough day.” 

“Hmm. I can tell.” He leans and squeezes your bicep absently. “I’m here for ya.”

Though you say nothing, your insides do a little bit of a flip.

-

Glancing at the clock on the stove, you frown. Pausing your show, you pull up your phone, paging over to Twitch to pull up Seokjin’s stream. He’s been doing one of those stream-a-thon things again, and you haven’t seen him come out to eat since the morning. It’s well into the evening now. 

Seokjin’s stream pulls up and you see him in the corner of his screen, the familiar lighting in his room glowing in the background. His room is surreptitiously clean, free of any garbage and clutter. His bed is always made any time you see it, and the beautiful tiles of pulsing lights above it make a nice ambiance for his stream. 

Currently, he is focused, leaning a little too far toward his screen as he talks to his teammates. Taehyung and Jungkook, by the sound of it. There’s no evidence suggesting he has left his room today, which urges you to get up and head to the kitchen, closing out the stream.

In silence, you put together a small meal. A wrap, a small back of chips, and some damn water will do him some good. Pulling up his stream again, you wait until his match finishes and he’s leaning back, talking to chat. 

A little nervous, you walk with food in hand to his bedroom door where you can hear his soft voice. You knock lightly and he calls you in. Carefully, you stick your head in and see him turn. You’re out of shot from his stream, but he’s confused nonetheless. You never interrupt. 

Sliding the plate into view, Seokjin’s face lights up. He rolls away from the computer and comes over, his headset on his head still as he gushes, “Holy fuck thank you. You are literally the best. A goddess. A queen. Royalty. Angel among humans. I’m starving.”

“Yeah, it’s like seven at night idiot.” 

“Yeah, whatever. Thank you.” He bites into the wrap eagerly, taking a few minutes to chew and swallow. He pauses and glances you up and down before smiling. “Really, thank you. That was incredibly thoughtful of you.”

“Uh-huh.” You glance at his screen. “Have a good rest of your stream.”

-

Jin: Left lunch for you in the fridge. I made extra this morning. 

You look at the text and furrow your brow, toothbrush still popped into the side of your cheek. You continue absently scrubbing as you walk to the fridge and pull it open. Sure enough, there’s a glass dish with a sticky note on it and a smiley face. 

Plucking the note off the top, you read it. Thanks for taking care of me. Now I’ll take care of you. 

With a smile bright enough to light up the entire city, you go about getting dressed for work.

-

The smile doesn’t last long. Work drags on unsteady, tired feet, and once again, you are stuck in a slew of responsibilities that shouldn’t be yours, reading emails that are reiterating things already discussed, and joining meetings that should be emailed. 

By the time lunch comes and goes, you realize that you haven’t yet eaten. Tucked in the small cubicle, you nibble on Seokjin’s homemade meal, eyes glued to the neverending scroll of budget tracking and invoices. 

A raging headache lurks behind your eyes and though your lunch is superb - as it often is with Seokjin’s cooking - you can’t help but feel your frustration mount by the time your next meeting rolls around. 

Meeting after meeting interrupts your afternoon, and when you finish your last one long past the time to go home, your nerves are fried and a high-strung feeling follows you all the way to your car as you scroll through all of the emails you have yet to get to.

Because of all the fucking meetings. 

The trip home is silent. Your fingers ache with the grip on the steering wheel of your car and when you park in the lot of the apartment complex, you sit there for a moment, car off, world muted by the car doors. 

Head pressed against the steering wheel, you take a few steady breaths. It feels like you might cry, which isn’t typical after a work day. But you’re frustrated and tired, and that goddamn headache is still looming in the back of your eye sockets. 

Upstairs and in your apartment, you breeze past Seokjin who is in the kitchen. You mumble something about a migraine and he barely gets a moment to say anything before you’re in your room, door pressed shut. You lay in your bed without even taking your work close off, wrapping yourself in your blanket and closing your eyes. 

The next thing you know, there’s something warm pressed against your brow. You frown and groan, rolling over and feeling several joints in your body pop. Your eyes flutter open and you see Seokjin leaning over you, making you flinch slightly. 

“Sorry,” he laughs. “But it’s really late and you should eat. I know you have a headache so I brought you meds and a cold towel. And ramen. I make the best ramen.”

“Jungkook makes the best ramen,” you correct, sighing and leaning up a little. Your movements are stiff, tangled in a blazer and dress pants. “Ugh, I slept like this?”

“Jungkook does not make the best ramen. I will take that away.”

“Fine, fine.” You take the medicine from the nightstand and chase it with the water glass offered. “Thanks.” You look at all the things he brought you and your insides begin to melt. He lingers near the doorway, eyes soft, expression warm. “Thank you for thinking of me. I… wow.” 

He shrugs, suddenly shy. “No big deal. Now eat the best ramen in the world or I’m going to have a fit.” 

With that, Seokjin leaves you to eat your ramen in peace. The first taste is amazing, already warming you up. You realized you’re ravenous, pulling noodles into your mouth hungrily. Absently, you think that it is the best fucking ramen in the world.

-

“What’s with you?” Seokjin asks as you drag your feet slowly in the grocery store. Rarely do you shop together, but today is an exception. “You look like a zombie.”

You nearly shoot daggers at him. “I lost my headphones,” you snap. “Which means I have to hear your gaming all night.”

“Oh come on, I’m not that loud.”

“Watch one of your streams back, I’m sure you’ll disagree.”

He sighs, turning the cart as you walk down the spice aisle. “Sorry, I’m preparing for this huge Apex tournament. Jungkook and I have been practicing duos a lot and it’s been a bit frustrating. Everyone has fucking aim assist these days, I swear that console players are doing to ruin-”

“Jin.” He pauses his rant. “I’m just asking you to keep it down a little. I no longer have the means to ignore you… moaning weirdly during a game.”

“What?”

“You haven’t noticed? You kind of moan and yell. It’s… ask your stream about it.”

He stops walking, staring at you as you walk ahead. “I don’t do that.” You snicker and he makes a frustrated noise. “I don’t!”

Five minutes pass with Seokjin sulking about your comment. It’s when you’re in the milk aisle that he says, “So you’ve just been imagining me moaning on the other side of the wall, huh?”

“W-what?” 

“Admit it. You’ve been thinking about me moooaaaning you’re having dirty thooooughts.” He sing-songs this to you, poking at your sides as you open the fridge to get milk.

“I am not.”

“It’s totally cool. I get it, handsome bachelor right on the other side of the wall, you’re bound to get curious and - oof.” 

“Put this in the cart,” you deadpan, having hit him in the stomach with the gallon of milk. He takes it from you and obliges, though there is a shit-eating grin on his face. 

Seokjin isn’t right, but he isn’t explicitly wrong. When you first moved in, you had been shy and wondered about the attractive boy who lived just on the other side of the wall. Once you had fallen into familiarity, though, there had not been anything there.

Except recently. 

The last few weeks have felt like the two of you have reached a new level of shared living space. You had done things together before, but now you find yourself making all your meals with Seokjin, bringing him snacks during stream, waking up to him making you breakfast or having prepared you lunch. 

And now you’re doing groceries together, which was something uncommon enough to make you wonder.

You think back to the gentle way he made you dinner and brought you medicine when you had a headache, the way that your insides had turned cotton candy at the action and house these days, your eyes lingered on him just a little bit more. 

But no. Seokjin was your roommate, and you learned in your last situationship that you don’t shit where you eat. Which is why you moved out of the old apartment and in with Seokjin in the first place. 

The rest of your shopping experience goes with mild teasing. You’re still a little bit on edge, but not enough to be truly mad, especially when he offers to cook dinner. 

Once again, you find yourself nestled on the couch watching TV before he finally relents and announces he’s going to practice duos with Jungkook. He assures you that he’ll keep it down this time - he isn’t streaming, so you sure hope so - and vanishes for the rest of the evening. 

When you get ready for bed, it is mostly silent on his of the wall. No yelling, but you can hear the soft lull of his voice. Oddly enough, it’s soothing, and you end up falling asleep with the barest sound of his hum through the walls. 

-

Most nights, you can sleep through Seokjin’s yelling at the sudden sound of his knee hitting his gaming desk as he jumps up, a string of expletives laced with other unintelligible expressions of shock, horror, and frustration. Most nights, you can tuck your headphones in, and blissfully fall asleep to the sound of rain, hearing his insanity only once in a while.

Except now you’ve lost your headphones, you don’t have enough money to splurge on a new pair, and Seokjin has been practicing for a tournament for some extremely long stream he has coming up. 

So now, you go nights without sleep. Nights where you drift off to dreamland after a long shift at the bar or studying for your dissertation. Nights like this, where you teeter on the edge between awake and asleep, and you’re startled straight out of your bed from a shout. 

Heart pounding, you grip the edge of your bed, trying to get your bearings as Seokjin’s shouting echoes through the shared wall. You feel sick with the sudden rush of adrenaline and fear, closing your eyes for a moment as the room spins.

Gritting your teeth and ripping your blankets from you, you march to his room, stumbling as you try to get your bearings from waking up so suddenly. Your stomach does a nasty flip, churning at the unplanned activity as you pound your fist on his door.

“Open up, motherfucker!” You screech, hand slamming on the door without pause. “I swear, Seokjin, sometimes I just want to-“ 

The door rips open and you nearly knock him right in his chest. His very bare, very broad chest, lit up by the purple RBG lights on his headphones and strip lighting around his room to improve the ambiance of his setup. 

“Holy shit, woman! What?” 

You blink, momentarily dazed at what you came here for, distracted entirely by the firm curves of his pectorals, skin smooth and gold. Was Seokjin always this in shape or is it a figment spurred by the rush of adrenaline? 

Finding your words is hard, your brain is scrambled and near ready to make dial-up noises at the site of your roommate’s bare skin. “We just talked about this,” you manage to spit out. “And you’re literally going to start screaming the same fucking day we talk about keeping it down?”

“I mean I’m sorry but damn. You don’t have to break the door down.”

“Then stop screaming!”

“You’re the one screaming!”

“Because I’m trying to fucking sleep! I have dealt with you yelling, cheering, slamming the desk and hollering and doing your little moan-scream for almost a year without saying anything!” You yell back, fists clenched and rage boiling. “I’m so fucking over it!”

“Then why have you never mentioned it before? You know, like an adult!”

Your mouth hangs open at the clap back. “Be for real. I am not the problem here.”  

“Well if I’m the problem, why haven’t you communicated that? You’ve been here eight months and it took me asking you at the grocery store to fess up that I was bothering you.” 

“I mean. Yeah, but-”

“So don’t yell at me that I didn’t read your mind and I had no idea I was bothering you. Or get headphones.” 

“How about you start gaming at normal hours? Have you ever thought of that?” 

He rolls his eyes. “You mean my working hours?”

“I mean between the hours before 11 at night, Jin!” 

“Make me!”

“Fine!” You snap, rage pushing you over. “Shall we make a wager?” 

This catches him by surprise. He blinds a few times, tilting his head. “What are you proposing?” 

Crossing your arms, you nod to the computer. “You want me to play Apex so bad? Fine, we’ll make it a competition.” 

“There’s no 1 v 1 in Apex.”

“Duos. Whoever gets the most kills wins. No shields higher than blue, no turning on each other. Just strictly kill count. If win, you don’t get to game past 11 pm anymore.” 

“And if I win?”

“What do you want?”

“What can I have?” He pauses, looking you up and down. Something feels different as he does this. His gaze heavier. Darker. He licks his lips, your attention is drawn to the way the blue lights glittering on his wall turn the spit-slicked surface blue. “How about any favor at any time that I ask? Are we also trying to win as a duo?”

“Sure. No holds barred on how we get kills.” 

Again, he examines you, trying to puzzle something out. Wordlessly, he walks to his computer and grabs his headset. The door is open to his room, showing that he just has his basic setup turned on, with no intention of streaming. “Jungkook I’ll hit you up tomorrow. I have to kick my roommate's ass.” Jungkook says something on the other side and Seokjin clears his throat. “Yeah, no. Bye.”

He returns, phone in hand. Your phone pings in your room. “Add me on Discord, I guess.” 

Wordlessly, you spin and head to your room. 

There are still things Seokjin doesn’t know about you. Like how you played his favorite game for a year straight, trying to impress your last roommate-turned-fuck-buddy with your skills. While it partially worked in your favor, their failure to commit to you gave you a sour taste about the game. 

It’s been a while since you’ve played. Slower games are more your style, and you haven’t turned on your PC in a while, but as it starts, lights inside of the glass case glittering, you feel a shiver of excitement. 

Your setup is not nearly as advanced as your roommate's, who has three screens, a massive desk and hi-tech camera, a microphone, and a massive custom-built unit that could probably power a tank. Yours is pre-built but sturdy, and you have a single screen with a modest keyboard and headset to match. 

Glancing at the Discord user, you roll your eyes at what Seokjin’s written: WorldWideHandsomeJin.

“Weirdo,” you mutter. 

You add him anyway, getting comfortable in your chair and hitting the call button. He answers immediately, his voice making the hair at the back of your neck tingle as he says, “So are you going to be my Discord kitten?”

“Ew, don’t ever say that again,” you mutter. Navigating your desktop, you start to update the game. “Give me fifteen. I have to update.”

“Really? Newbie.”

“Sorry I don’t play this game every second of my life. I haven’t played since I moved out of the last place.” 

He hums, voice vibrating in your very nice headset. You turn him down a little bit, feeling just a little drunk from the rich timbre of his voice. “That was a… weird situation, huh?”

“A bit.” 

“They play Apex that much too?”

“Not as much as you do.” He hums again. “Who do you main?” 

“Loba.”

“Fine,” you answer as the program opens. “I’m playing Wraith.” 

The game menu blares in your ears, making you squeak and reset all of your old settings. It feels weird to log on, pointedly ignoring the familiar username as you navigate your friends list to add Seokjin. He pops up and selects duos for you. 

Your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see his rank. “Diamond? Holy fuck do you touch grass?” 

“Says you! You played enough that you hit Diamond in your first season too, nerd. It shows your historical stats. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Whatever. Ready up.” 

Neither of you says anything as the system prepares to put you in a game. You look at his stats, raising your brows as you flip through. He’s historically hit the highest rank in the game, making you wonder why he’s dropped recently. He also has a ridiculous skin on his character, making you wonder how long he’s been playing. 

Apex Legends is a first-person shooter game with a battle royale format. Similar to Fortnite, teams load into the game and pick up weapons and other materials to fight other teams the ring of combat gets smaller and smaller. With Seokjin’s selection of Loba guarantees that you’ll be able to stock weapons and ammo. With your selection of Wraith, you can get in and out of situations quickly and you’ll know when an enemy team focuses on you.

As the map loads, you can’t help but feel the tremor in your hand. Your leg bounces up and down as you wait, watching the dropship come into focus. You give Seokjin the power to drop your duo anywhere on the complex map. You almost expect him to launch immediately, but you’re impressed to see that he has enough patience to drop you a moderate distance on the map.

Which means fewer weapons, fewer shields, and fewer teams to kill. You frown as you navigate your character to land near utility boxes full of weapons. Does he think you need to take it slow? Or maybe he’s worried about giving you too many people to kill easily. 

“Team to the north,” you comm, opening up boxes and selecting weapons, shields, and med packs. “What do you shoot?”

“Energy. Preferably the volt.” 

“Volt here. Let me know if you see a flatline or sentinel.” 

“You snipe with Wraith?” 

“When she says someone’s aiming at me, yeah?” 

He hums but does not comment the two of you use the map to navigate. You fall into a rhythm, using the controls feels sort of familiar. As you work your way toward the next ring, Seokjin startles you when he starts firing shots at a time looting that you miss. You flinch and whirl, but he’s already eliminated the pair. 

“Two zero.” 

“Whatever,” you growl, ignoring his smug voice.

Shooter, move your character in game commands. You dodge behind a box as an enemy team rattles off shots. Your heart pounds as you use a sniper to look in the direction of the shots, seeing the duo up on a tower. Lining up the scope, you click and hit a player. 

“Knocked,” you call automatically. The second teammate makes a bad call and tries to get their knocked pair up. You line up the shot and click twice. “Knocked. Out.” You move your mouse and finish the other teammate. “Out.”

“Yeah, yeah, good comms whatever. We’re even.”

You grin. “Just trying to communicate to my teammate.” 

He snorts. “Sure.”

For a few moments, the two of you navigate to a safe zone. When you see two teams clash, you don’t even think. Normally you’d wait for one team to finish off the other, but you’re in a competition with Seokjin, too. Suddenly, winning means more than just peace and silence.

“Knocked,” you call, sniping another player. “Out. Out. Knocked.” 

“You motherfucker,” Jin hisses. “You’re supposed to - out - tell me when we’re going to push a team.”

“Hey, that was my kill!”

“You only knocked him!” 

“Whatever. And I pushed them because I want to win.”

“I didn’t realize you were so good at this.” The two of you start looting the load out of the eliminated players. “You kept saying I don’t like Apex and here you are, really good at it.”

“Honestly, I used to like it.” Together, you traverse the map until you enter the next ring. Seokjin pauses to use Loba’s pop shop ability, a cache of weapons and materials in the local area showing up in front of you. As you sort through them, you continue, “But I used to play with my old roommate and I used to do it to impress them. As it turns out, being good at a video game does not a relationship make.”

“Hmm. Well if it makes you feel any better, I like you even without the Apex.”

“I meant I was trying to get them to like me romantically.”

“I know what you meant.” 

You pause. Seokjin does not explain his statement, humming lightly as he picks up ammo and leaves the little shop running. He skips down the hill with his character, his happy little tune deep in your ear. 

Nerves get the best of you in the next firefight with a team. You get knocked and screech into the headset, thinking that your chance to win is over. Seokjin, thankfully, takes pity on you and heals you after your near-death experience. But now he’s in the lead, and there are only five teams left. 

I know what you meant. 

The words sit heavy on you. While you are attracted to Seokjin you know it’s a bad idea. Roommates being anything more than roommates often brings other issues. You’d learned firsthand how poorly not defining a relationship could go. That was on you as an adult too but… you didn’t want something in between.

And you have no inclination of what he meant. 

Seokjin wasn’t a very flirty person. Teasing you came easily enough, and he was always nice. He had been a little extra nice recently since you’d been spending more time together, but there wasn’t anything that would suggest he saw you as more than a roommate. 

Two more people downed, and you were tied. The two of you were more into the game and less into the bet. Your interrupted sleep was long forgotten, and you leaned forward as you devised a plan, locking down a high tower where you could see enemy teams coming to escape the shrinking ring. 

“Glad you got that stupid sentinel,” Seokjin mutters. “Who snipes with Wraith.” 

“Shut up,” you shoot back, though you don’t really mean it. “Your second gun is a fucking wingman.” 

“Because it’s like a one tap to the head!” An incoming team distracts him from arguing with you. “Over by that dino cage.”

“Got it,” you comm back. The second you shoot, you draw fire. “Oh my god do they have a Kraber?” 

“Yeah, but they fucked the shot. You got this.” 

Taking a breath - a little dramatic, you realize as you scope them - you take the shot. You tap one, but they have red armor. You curse, pissed you installed a fucking armor limitation, and duck behind the wall as the other team misses the shot with their kraber again. 

“Best gun in the game and they can’t hit shots!” Seokjin laughs. “Imagine! Their buddy must be fuming.”

You scope again and tap the person again. “Knocked. Do we stand our ground or try and take them?” Another shot misses. “Can you keep a scope on that person you cracked and I can push? Other team is probably trying to wait it out.” 

“If they see you?”

“Then you’re fucked but they’re not going to engage between two snipers. Maybe? I don’t know. Just do your thing.”

And you do your thing as Seokjin runs off toward the enemy team. They no longer have shots on their gun - which makes you roll your eyes, it’s the best gun on the map - and keep focused. Either they think you’re moving or they make a bad call - the healthy teammate tries to pick up their knocked ally and you take the shot. 

“They’re both cracked.” 

“Got it- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH OTHER TEAM.” 

His screech makes you slam your knee into the underside of your desk. No wonder he does this all the time, you think, realizing that the disrupting noise is a lot easier to make than you originally thought. “Let them take the kill then!”

“Fuck that I want to win!”

“Ew is this about the bet still? Now I want to win the game!”

“That’s what I’m talking about! Ye of little fAIIIIIITH!”

It’s hard not to giggle as he breaks off into yelling, entering a firefight while you try to provide cover and miss your shots. “Stop fucking portaling where I want to shoot!”

“Stop missing!”

“Knocked motherfucker!” 

“Got it!”

Seokjin finishes the two teammates as the knocked enemies on the other team expire. Both of you scream over your headsets. You shoot to your feet as the victory screen flashes. You don’t even wait - you bolt toward the door, your wired-in headset ripping off your head and nearly yanking you back as you go. 

The door is already open as he yells loudly, jumping up and down and grabbing you by the forearms, jumping around in circles with you. It’s stupid but it’s fun, and you can’t help but feel elated as he shakes you wildly, screaming, “Yaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” 

His hands are warm on your biceps, gentle and squeezing you excitedly. And then between one breath and the next, he’s pulling you toward him, pressing his lips to yours. 

A shock goes through you. You freeze for a moment, completely taken aback and unsure how to react. Seokjin realizes what he’s done and immediately backs away, running a hand through his hair and tugging at the strands as he says, “Shit - I am so sorry. That was wow - that was a line crossed without your consent and I’m so sorry.” 

Heat floods you from head to toe. Your heart slams against your chest and you stare at him as he fumbles over an apology, his face red as you feel. Your mind can’t catch up as the warmth spreads from your face to the rest of you.

“I’m genuinely so sorry, I just got really excited and-”

“What did you mean earlier,” you cut him off. “When you were all I know what you meant. Look I… really don’t want to make this living situation weird.”

“Totally understand, I’m so sorry.”

You chew on your lip, looking at him. He looks earnest, eyes round and expression pleading. Your lips tingle where he kissed you, so quickly that you’ve already forgotten. Part of you wants to tell him to kiss you again. It was nice. And the flip in your stomach was… good. 

But the part of you speaking now says, “I had fun gaming with you. Apology accepted. I am super tired though, so I’m going to go to bed okay?”

“Yeah. Listen, I am so sorry. That won’t happen again and I just - that was not cool of me at all.”

“It’s okay.” 

“It wasn’t.” 

You offer a smile, still nervous, fingers twitching. “I know you didn’t like, mean anything by it.”

He frowns. “Well I did but that’s my issue.” 

Your heart is a stone skipping on the smooth surface of a pond. “What does that mean?” 

“Look,” he sighs. “I don’t want to make things weird, alright? I harbor a bit of a crush on you and that was honestly absolutely not okay for me to just-” He gesticulates wildly with his hands. “It was an inconsiderate thing for me to do.” 

A crush. Your breathing hitches and you rub sweaty palms against your pants, nodding. “It’s - we’re okay. We’re fine.” 

Seokjin nods, nibbling on his bottom lip as he stares at you, red-faced and nervous. The silence turns awkward, your mind blanks and buzzes as you try to digest his words.

Crush crush crush crush. 

“I’m gonna go to bed,” you announce abruptly, needing to escape the room to breathe for a moment. He nods, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as you rush out. “Night!”

Behind locked doors in your room, you cover your face, feeling the way your cheeks are flushed. You do some deep breathing, trying to regulate your heart rate as your brain spins its tires on Seokjin’s words- confession. 

He confused. That he has a crush. 

For a few moments, you just lean over and pant, trying to think how you feel. Your stomach is a bundle of nervousness and your hands are a little shaky. But you’re not upset. In fact, you smile a bit, thinking of the way that Seokjin had turned shy and the way his lips had felt soft for that split second of a chance.

Straightening, you stare at the wall between your bedrooms. Seokjin is right there. Has been right there. And has admitted to liking you and is sweet and kind and fun to hang out with and-

It might be a bad decision. You’ve been down this road before. It ended up with you nursing feelings and deciding that feelings with roommates was a bad idea. But your last roommate didn’t have feelings for you like that. They liked the sex, but that was where the attraction ended. 

So maybe -

You knock loudly on Seokjin’s door. There’s some shuffling on the other side and he opens it, brows furrowed and a little breathless. Before he can ask what you’re doing, you’re pushing past him and asking, “When you say you have a crush on me what do you mean? In the physical, only attracted to your appearance kind of way, or like the would date kind of way?”

“Well I am physically attracted to you,” he answers slowly, turning to look at you. “But I also like you. You’re funny and incredibly kind, and you’re easy to live with. I like the way that you make your hashbrowns a little extra crispy and crunchy, and I like that you think of me when you do things.” 

“So you like me?”

“Yes, I think I… included that?”

You lick your lips, taking a shaky breath. “So you don’t want to just fuck me no strings attached?”

He blanches. “No. I don’t. Look I know I made you uncomfortable-”

“Kiss me.”

“What now?”

“Kiss me!”

There is a fleeting smile Seokjin gives you that later, you’ll think on with a fluttering heart and breathless laugh. But now, all you can think about is the gentle touch of his hands as they cradle your face and the delicate way his lips press against yours, pillow soft and sweet. 

Seokjin smells like his body wash, the sage and juniper intoxicating as you wrap your arms around his neck. His skin is warm as you press your palms against his skin, his pulse throbbing underneath your thumb. 

The kiss is chaste, just a firm press of lips and a surprised noise shared between the two of you. Tentatively, you pull away, eyelashes fluttering as you look up at him. Seokjin’s eyes are swimming pools of darkness framed by long lashes. He’s so beautiful, but up close he’s deadly, flecks of gold glittering in his irises. 

“I just,” you whisper. “I don’t want it to be weird but I also… want.” 

You don’t have to explain. Seokjin’s grin is easy, nodding. He gets it. He gets you. So he leans down again and pulls you in by the waist, fingers curling in the hem of your t-shirt as he tugs you toward him. The motion makes you gasp and he takes the chance to turn the kiss from sweet to carnal, tongue sweeping into your mouth.

Seokjin kisses you slowly, tongue curious and gentle. Your head spins as you kiss him and you can barely breathe, so full of him and thoughts of him and the taste of him that you grip him tight, desperate not to fall over. 

The irritation from him waking you up is long forgotten as he tugs you closer. Your hips press against his, mouths sliding, a mix of gentle smacks, spit, and gasps for air. A buzz tingles through you as you nudge Seokjin toward his bed and he responds immediately, backing up and pulling you with him.

When the back of his legs hit the bed, he falls backward. The two of you become a tangled pile of limbs and kisses and giggles, but you find your place as you slot your knees on either side of his narrow waist, palms flat against his chest and the steady beating of his heart. 

There are stars in his eyes when he looks up at you. For a second, you just look at one another, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs and his eyes locked on your face. His lips and face are rouge, hair messy. You grin and lean down, pressing your lips against him again. 

Kissing Seokjin is invigorating. You can’t help but let little noises slip from your mouth. His fingers press into your thighs, dimpling the flesh as he groans, hips twitching upward for friction. The bulge through his sweatpants makes you squeak and you break the kiss, wiggling your hips down to press against his clothed cock.

“Ugh,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut and head pressing back into his mattress. “Don’t do that. I’m so fucking hard.” 

“Do you want some help with that?”

His gaze softens and his thumbs slide back and forth on your thighs, caressing gently. “I want whatever you want. Nothing, everything, something. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Well right now… I really want to suck you off.” 

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh.” 

Without breaking eye contact, you drop and slide your hand from where it presses against his chest downward. His abs twitch under your hand as you dance along his over-warm skin. His breathing has turned faint and breathy, body nearly trembling as you brush your fingers along the trail of hair leading into his sweatpants.

Watching him is hypnotizing. Seokjin’s lips part slightly as you slide your hand underneath the elastic, brows shooting up when you brush the sticky tip of his cock. 

“No underwear?”

“They’re - nggg - restricting.” 

His shaft is long and smooth, your fingers brushing along the underside, tracing a vein. You’re impressed by the sheer size of his dick, wondering if you’re going to manage to not choke, but the sound he lets you when you wrap your fingers around him and grip him tight erases the apprehension. 

“You sound so good like that,” you breathe, giving a loose-fisted stroke toward the crown, beaded with precum. “Also you have a sizeable dick.”

“Sizeable, huh?” You brush your thumb over the tip, nail gliding over his leaking slit and he lets out a loud moan, making you grin. “Take it out and see how fucking sizeable it is, hmm?”

It’s hard to take him seriously with how ridiculous he sounds, but you slide down the bed, gently getting onto your knees. Using both hands, you tug at his sweatpants, looking up at him through fluttered lashes. 

And… suddenly it’s not a joke anymore. Your mouth waters a bit at the side, his tip swollen and needy. His thick, and you know how good it would feel to just sink down on top of his length, filling up the throb that aches between your legs. 

Pressing your palms firmly into his thighs, you lift yourself up, dipping low to run your tongue along the thick vein that runs up the bottom of his shaft. He lets out a sinful growl, hands fisting the sheet and gasping as you watch him struggle. 

At the tip, you slid a hand up, gripping him firmly as you suckle the dark, swollen flesh into your mouth. His precum is salty on your tongue and you hum, eyes fixed on the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the blush blossoming from his neck to his pecs. 

Seokjin is beautiful under the assault of your mouth. 

Suckling gently, you watch his reaction as your tongue lazily circles around the sensitive tip of his cock. His hips wiggle back and forth but he never bucks up into your mouth, never thrusts deeper than you’re willing to go. 

“Please,” he whispers and it comes out as an almost whine. “More.” 

You give him more, gently sinking your mouth down on him. It’s a stretch but you manage, careful to mind your breathing as you bob gently, hollowing your cheeks for added suction. Expletive-laced moans drip from his mouth, his eyes squeeze shut as you continue to suck gently. 

Drool runs out the sides of your mouth. You let it, the stickiness of your spit and his presume slicking down his cock helps you take more of him in his mouth. When his tip brushes the back of your throat, he nearly growls, fully writhing underneath you now.

Seeing him like this is addicting, worked up and sweating, and falling apart. What you can’t fit in your mouth you grip with your hand, mouth, and fingers stroking together in time to work him up. Your mouth buzzes around him in a self-satisfied hum. 

Seokjin can’t help himself. His hands leave the sheets, one hand going to the back of your head, fingers pressed firmly. He doesn’t push or pull, his grip just firm and begging. The sound as you let him thrust a little is sinful and wet, the cough-choke of your throat accompanied by stilted curses. 

Suddenly, he pulls you up. Cum-mixed spit dribbles down your chin, mouth feeling stretched and swollen as you look up at him. His sweats are around his ankles, abs and thighs flexing as he leans forward, urging you upward. 

Your mouths meet in a heated smack of cum and spit and moans and teeth. Your mind is spinning as he cups your face fiercely, pulling you to your feet and up onto his naked waist. His hands pull at your shirt and you yank it fiercely, breaking your messy kiss just to toss it. 

Seokjin’s hands are warm and starving for you and vicious as he pulls your bralette off, adding it to the messy pile in his room. Steady hands cup your breasts, his eyes glittering as he makes a noise. “Fuck,” he mutters. “Come here.”

You fall forward but his hands steady you, lifting his head to catch a nipple with his mouth. It sets you alight, electricity snapping to life from the motion. You moan, head thrown back, eyes rolling as he nipples lightly on your nipple. 

“Fuck,” you squeak. The heat between your legs hurts, your cunting throbbing for him. “That feels so good.”

He hums, letting go of the hardened peak with a gentle scrape of his teeth, moving his mouth to lavish your other breast. His thumb brushes back and forth over the glossy peak, keeping it stimulated. 

You tremble in his grip, seated in his lap as he places luscious sucks across your chest. 

“You’re beautiful.” Seokjin’s words are mumbled in damp kisses against your collarbone. “You’re smart and sweet and generous and stunning.” 

“You’re beautiful,” you answer. It feels stupid to say, but it’s the only thing you can come up with. Everything feels fuzzy and you’re drowning in the praise. “Why is your discord WorldWideHandsomJin?”

“Shut up.” He rolls the two of you over, a whirlwind of limbs and giggles. “Cause I wanted it to be, and it’s true.” 

“It is,” you agreed, gasping as he slides his hand into your pajama shorts. His fingers brush over your damp panties, and he huffs a laugh when he feels how sticky wet you are. “More.” 

He hums and applies more pressure, but it doesn’t relieve the ache. “No,” you whine, clawing his chest. “Please.” 

“Because you said please.”

With a swift hand, he pulls your shorts and underwear down. You don’t have time to shiver at the cool air of his room hitting your pussy, his fingers brushing up and down. “God,” he groans, dropping his head against the side of your neck. “You’re soaked, baby.” 

Pleasure sparks as he thumbs your clit in gentle circles. You feel arousal flood the pit of your stomach, cunt aching and leaking as he slides a finger up and down, applying pressure to your hole before gently sliding into your cunt. 

It’s not enough. You get breathy all the same, the feel of his finger stroking your front wall making the world around you melt. Your limbs feel heavy and you shut your eyes, feeling the way he strokes your g-spot over and over again. 

“Another,” you gasp, hips bucking upward. “Please, more.”

“Yeah?” he asks. “Greedy pussy needs more?”

His filth makes your mouth pop open. He complies, though, sliding in another finger and fucking into you properly. He lets you roll your hips upward, trying to ride his hand as you chase the feeling in your stomach. 

It feels like you can’t get enough air, heat trapped between your bodies, static sticking to your skin. Seokjin feels like heaven and fucking hell, skin sticky where your bodies touch, thrumming with energy. 

And it’s so much - almost too much. You want him closer, want to be fuller, want the snap of his hips. You dig your fingers into his biceps, mouth brushing against his, words mumbled between pressed lips, “Please.” 

With a slick sound, he pulls his fingers from you. Immediately you miss the feeling, but you’re rewarded as he brings shine-slicked fingers up to his lips, sucking them into his mouth. He leers around his fingers, eyes dark. 

“Yum,” he whispers, bending down and licking into your mouth, letting you taste yourself on his lips. 

For a quick moment, he fumbles in his nightstand, pulling out a condom and breaking the foil with a soft crinkle. He’s painted a soft blue in the lights of his room, the changing colors making him a mirage of neons and soft colors, a haunting and stunning creature all at once. 

Seokjin shuffles you carefully up the bed, peppering your skin with kisses as he goes. Reverent hands stretch your legs wide open for him as he slots himself against you, giving shallow thrusts so that his cock slides against your messy fold. You whine, needed more stimulation, needing to feel full to relieve the ache. 

Grabbing the base of his cock, he strokes upwards again, letting his cockhead catch on your trembling hole. A stream of expletives falls from your lips as your head falls backward, your entire frame vibrating as he slowly slides in. You’re so wet that it helps, but the thick girth of him burns all the way until he is fully sheathed and your walls are fluttering around him.

“Shit, you’re fucking squeezing me.”

“Cause your cock is fucking big!”

“Am I supposed to apologize?”

“No, but please fuck me.”

You need the slide of his shaft against your walls, need to feel the way he hits so deep it’s like he’s in your fucking stomach. Seokjin starts a slow but purposeful pace, pulling all the way out before pushing back in, sliding his hands under your as to lift you slightly. The angle allows him to fuck your spot as he thrusts in, your limbs going slack as the feeling of an orgasm winds from just a few strokes. 

Seokjin fucks you with purpose, stroking a little faster. Sweat beads on his chest, hair clinging to his forehead as he bites his bottom lip, stomach flexing. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, your fingers wrapped around his wrist where he holds you, practically pulling you onto his cock as he fucks you open. 

It’s mind-numbing, everything else fading away as his room swirls in colors, punctuated by the snap of his hips against your wet ass and your high-pitched moans. 

You wish you could be more of a participant, but the way he makes you feel has the room spinning. He fucks you down into the mattress, the slide of your skin against his sheets added friction. Your head hits a pillow, knocking it sideways, your hand trying to find a grip on anything. It finds the wall and you press against it, feeling the squeeze of your breath in your lungs and the coil in your stomach. 

“That's it,” Seokjin urges, one hand leaving your ass to slip between your legs. He circles your clit and your eyes roll back in your head, the roaring feeling of your orgasm coming closer and closer. “Fuck your feel so fucking good - you look so fucking good just taking my cock like this.” He is the vision you think. Brow furrowed, lip tucked between his teeth, all tan, flushed skin and twitching muscles. You can't remember the last time you were fucked into mindlessness, no chance of cognitive thinking at your fingertips. The filth that leaves his mouth only sends you spiraling further, admiration-laced curses punctuated with moans.

You can only moan back in response, most of the sound stuck in your throat. You think you’re babbling now, mouth agape, eyes squeezed so shut that colors explode across your vision. He fucks you hard but at a medium pace, each thrust supported with his full weight, hitting so deep that you can’t breathe.

When you cum, it’s like a freight train hits you, the world going absolute white noise and numb. You lose yourself in the feeling, everywhere and nowhere all at once. You’re aware of the way your pussy pulses around his cock and through the buzz in your ears, you hear him curse, gasping your name as he cums just as hard. 

You have no idea how long it takes for you to come back down. You barely feel your limbs, the tingle in them like when your foot falls asleep but far more pleasant. You roll your head over to find Seokjin breathing deeply, skin glowing with sweat. His eyes flutter open as you stare at him and he grins, tired but genuine. Your stomach leaps. 

“I swear,” he mumbles. “Next time I will last way longer than that. But fuck.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard,” you admit, voice hoarse. “I think that is why they call it le petite mort. Holy shit.” 

He laughs and he pulls you in. With the shift of your limbs, you feel how sticky and wet your legs are, thighs pressed together in the mess. You make a face at the feeling, no longer finding it attractive now that you’re not actively fucking, but he kisses you and you immediately forget about it. 

“By the way,” he mutters, voice deep. “I won the bet so you owe me a favor.”

You grit your teeth, realizing that he did win by a single kill. “Fine. What’s your favor?”

“Not much, just want to take you out somewhere nice. Buy you a beautiful dinner. Learn all of your embarrassing stories from middle school and if you had an emo phase.”

“Did you have an emo phase?” 

“You’ll only find out if we go on a date.”

You smile. Your mouth hurts from the kissing and the stretch of his dick, but it doesn’t matter. You brush the sweaty hair from his face, his eyes fixed on your reaction. “Of course, I’ll go on a date with you.” 

“Hmm. Good. Now come on, I wanna fuck you in the shower.” 

“That I can agree with.” 

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