This Is That - Tumblr Posts

There are many new friends on the archive, and many are young and have only known social media, which is why I wanted to say something!

Ao3 does not have an algorithm! It isn't a social media site, it's an archive.

Posting fics on Tumblr isn't the same as posting fics on Ao3

Ao3 is like a giant virtual bookshelf, and everyone is able to add their own stories to the bookshelf, all stored with different tags and different fandoms. Works are automatically sorted by newest to oldest, but filters, looking at bookmarks, and using the search function can change that.

Certain works are not pushed to the top like social media posts. More kudos and reads don't push a single work to more viewers by some algorithm. Unless otherwise filtered, works will be at the top of the page based on how recent it was posted.

Smaller fandoms get less views, less kudos, less bookmarks, and larger fandoms get more simply because of the number of people inside the fandom.

Ao3 is a giant virtual bookshelf- there is no algorithm, and there is no man behind the shelf pushing certain books forward.

Happy reading, and if you'd like to have more people notice a fic, why not share it with them! Send a dm to a fandom friend and it might turn into one of their favorite fics!

nothing but 0.03, m | myg

say you want chokin' all of that strokin' are you enjoyin' this flavor? – 0.03 by ØZI

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smut (fem reader, mirror kink, choking, fingering, nipple play, m-masturbation, cum eating, penetrative sex, mild restraint); fwb? yeah, Yoongi's too emotional for that but you're not going to let him in your space, right? wrong.

--

Heavy heat dancing over your skin.

His exhale. Low and slow. The tips of his hair long hair skimming your shoulder, and then his lips, creating the invisible lines, hitting all the subtle erogenous zones with kisses and tongue. Conversation in body language. Complex emotions behind his silence, so apparent that you smiled. The action was barely visible through the messy layer of your own hair pushed forward so he could have more access to your neck. Your fingers glided over his forearms, one across your torso and the other dipping low against your upper thigh. Your back against his chest.

You looked forward.

A single dark brown orb gazing over your shoulder, shrouded in shadow.

His breath against your neck, whispering in that rasp of his.

“Fuck, you look good from every angle.”

You grinned. “Told you you’d like the mirror.”

Any other man, you wouldn’t give a fuck, but this was Min Yoongi and he was different.

His large palm pressed against your breasts. Pinching your nipples, switching between them, sending sparks through your chest with his soft lips working on the back of your neck. Feathering kisses with his roughness. Pressed his other hand into your lower body and pushed your ass into his crotch, letting you feel his hard length swelling slowly. You held back your sound, closing your eyes to soak in the competing sensations. His callused fingers – thanks to his constant guitar playing – rubbing against your hard nipples. His soft lips underneath your ear, sucking gently. His other hand slipping down, down. Tracing the lines. Skimming against the slick of leaking honey. The scent of sex, sweet and potent. His deep shudder, sliding his middle finger into your pussy, making you both gasp at the heat and the tightness.

You opened your eyes.

Yoongi was watching you over your shoulder, following the tension over your torso. Your shoulder against his collarbone, your back arching slightly as his finger slid out and up, rubbing deliberate circles and making your hips buck back into him.

Your inhale skipped, catching in your throat.

“Too much?”

He murmured into your ear, skimming his lips along the curve.

“No,” you breathed. “Just sensitive.”

He smiled into your hair.

Then he began stroking with your clit and teasing your nipples at the same time. Maddeningly, with no discernable pattern or warning, your body tensing and core tightening. Reaching back and gripping his hips, creating lust crescents with your fingernails, covering him with moonlight. Wetness slipping down your inner thighs, the initial shock melting into consistent rising arousal as Yoongi built the rhythm, rolling your hard nipple between his fingertips and stimulating your engorged clit. Switching sides, squeezing your breasts in between, pressing his palms into your tingling skin. His teeth catching your ear, sting of pain, and your head tipped back, your breathy moan bubbling up to the surface, and his deep voice savored your name with possession.

You and Yoongi never had the conversation.

It was pretty damn obvious.

You used sex to feel intense emotion. Yoongi, on the other hand, used sex to avoid certain intense emotions. Neither of you had ever discussed the obvious indecent use of your shared coping mechanism, but both of you recognized it in each other. He was angry at people hurting him. Sad that they could be so selfish and toss him aside like he was worthless, so he hated the world. Sex, then, was for him to feel in control of someone for himself. You, well, you just didn’t care anymore. No one can hurt you if you don’t care. You didn’t need to care if it was just sex.

Physical, carnal, thoughtless.

Yoongi had been immediately drawn to your darkness.

His hand slid up between your breasts.

Closed in around your throat.

His strokes rougher, coaxing the vicious throbs from your hips, your legs locked to avoid clamping down on his hand, gripping him tighter as you bit your lip, the numbing haze creeping up your back and through your mind, gasping his name as he choked you.

Nothing but sex.

His lips on your ear, his breath heating your skin, his rasp, don’t close your legs, let me see all of you, your back arching, your clit aching for release, and you held it back, the tightness rising in your lungs, bloodless, lightheaded, the pressure and roughness of his fingertips, the lewd sound your pussy clenching around nothing, and he choked you harder, biting your earlobe. Your eyes rolled back, something internal snapping, your hips flicking, ravenous throbs shooting upwards, nerves singing, your legs tingling, thrown into the shocking high without any air.

You rode his hand, the violent sting of orgasm consuming your body into delicious shivers.

Yoongi let go your neck and a fresh wave of bliss knocked the wind out of you, causing you to sputter and gasp, the lustful buzz burning through your brain like erotic white noise, moaning deeply as two of his fingers slid into your pussy. Your inner walls immediately gripping him, both of your bodies shuddering as he thrust inside, once, twice, burning breath along the curve of your neck, then teeth, making you moan again at the pain, catching your reflection in the mirror, watching your hips jerk and breasts jut out, bouncing with each deep thrust.

He didn’t have to feel guilty. The selfishness was mutual. Your hands clawed up his sides, losing yourself to the pleasure, letting him push you to the edge again. You could feel pre-cum smearing onto your ass, the feeling of his half-hard cock pressed to your body burning through you. He didn’t hold back. Shoved another finger in, three stretching you out, using all of his skill to hit you at just the right spot, cutting off your gasps as you climbed your high, higher, skin tingling, sanity thinning, his other hand squeezing one of your breasts, your hard nipple between his knuckles, and your back arched, your hair spilling over his shoulder, cumming again, delicious and overwhelming, rolling your hips into his hand to heighten the climax, scorching electricity spreading through your thighs and up your belly, your slick orgasm dripping down your legs.

You turned your head.

Yoongi’s lips found you, trapping you in a ravenous kiss, sharing breath and elation.

You didn’t ask. You already knew it was exclusive. You could feel it in the way he touched you. He didn’t trust anybody to keep their mouths shut anyway. You keeping your silence about him was enough for him to trust you. The first time you were alone with him, he was a little drunk and you had gone outside to ask him if he was okay. He wasn’t. He said he was fine. You had said okay, and both stood there in silence. He had said he wanted to go home. You had followed him to his car but prevented him from getting behind the wheel. He had somehow convinced you he was only getting inside to sit down and sober up. If you didn’t trust him, then you could hold into his keys and sit in the passenger’s seat.

You know.

So you wouldn’t get cold and shit.

“What?” he had asked gruffly as you settled your gaze on him.

You had searched his face, learning.

“Just think you should know that I think you’re good-looking.”

Yoongi had scoffed, shaking his head. It made his long black hair slide forward, messiness covering more of his slim face. “Yeah? This was your master plan?”

“Nope. Only my good fortune.”

His dark eyes darting back to narrow. “People are going to talk about this. About you.”

You noticed he hadn’t said, my friends or even the group. You hadn’t given him a reply. Simply gave him a small little smile. Silence was telling. He had turned his body. Watching you with self-inflicted darkness. Leaning in. Trying to make you flinch. His hand moved, but you focused on his neutral facial expression, seeing a whirlwind of emotions behind the veil. You felt his cool touch skim your knuckles.

“I’ll take my keys back now.”

You clutched the metal tighter.

Sparks flying as his rough fingertips glided over the back of your hand.

“Not yet.”

Closer.

“What if I kiss you?” Dangerous murmur. A warning.

You breathed out. Heavy and heated. “You might like it more than you think.”

You hadn’t told anyone about that intense kiss or his hands gripping his thighs, squeezing them and dragging you closer. Making you remember his touch, and now he did the same as you turned around in his arms. His hold travelling up to your ass, the full curve in his palms, tangling you in his electrifying kiss and magic tongue. Chest to chest. Your hard nipples brushed against his skin. You slipped your arms around him, digging your fingernails into his back, dragging them down. His hiss filled your lungs. You felt him tilt his head. He was looking past you, his fingers sinking into your ass, spreading you open to expose everything, and you raised your hips, hearing the wet sound of your pussy lips opening.

You flexed your muscles.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Yoongi growled into your lips.

He wasn’t looking at your face.

You were sort of glad about that because, despite how cold and aloof he tried to remain, it never reached his eyes.

You reached back. Covered his hands with yours. Spread your ass open further, your lips finding the space between his shoulder and neck. Sucking a mark into that fair skin with his moan rising above you, watching your holes pulse in the mirror, both of you basking in the rush of provocative pornography becoming reality.

Two sides of the same coin.

You didn’t believe the best in people. They loved to prove you wrong anyway. It was better to give up on that. You lips chased his racing pulse. Breathe out. His grip relaxed, his hands sliding up. Cradling your waist. Your hands trailed after, your fingertips fanning over his knuckles. You never admitted it to Yoongi, but secretly you hated the world too. Hated that people always had the worst intentions and proved you right. Hated that they turned to dishonesty to save face.

You stared into his eyes.

You expected to see the haze of desire.

Instead, they were twin orbs of crystal-clear darkness.

A few steps and you were both crawling onto the bed. Hands all over. Body language and shared shaking breath. He kneeled over your body. The hickey you had made was stark even in this low light. Your hands buried into the sheets, grabbing fistfuls as Yoongi slid two fingers into you again, his black hair hanging over his cheeks, his lips parting while he stroked his cock and thrust his fingers into you.

You never admitted it to Yoongi, but you could see the way he looked at you.

You could hear the promise in his voice when he gave you his usual, later. You could feel the delicateness in his rough touch, hitting all the right spots, slow and deep. You opened your legs more, grabbing your left thigh and pulling it up to your chest so you could tilt your hips up and rise your hips to meet his hand. His grip around his length tightened. You could watch him pleasure himself as he pleasured you, forced to follow his desired rhythm. His brows furrowed in concentration, his cock swelling in his hand, the head dark and popping out of his tight grip, him sucking in a tight breath, his gaze roaming all over to take in the visceral visual, and you knew the meaning of the way Yoongi looked at you.

His eyes locked with yours and he edged himself as you tumbled into another orgasm.

“A-Ah… fuck…”

The sensation vibrated up your core, heat swarming over your chest, moaning for him, always never letting anyone get too close but Yoongi was already in your most secret space, pulling out his fingers and opening his mouth, curling his tongue around them and licking off your cum. Closer than close. Tasting you. You were already crawling forward. He already knew, taking his wet fingers away from his mouth and sliding them into your lips, in, out. In, out, your sweet-sour honey and his spit mixed together, staring into his eyes as he fucked your throat.

You never admitted it to Yoongi, but.

“I need to be inside you,” he breathed out, each word heavy.

You were never worried if there was anyone else. It would honestly be easier for you if there was, but of course life would not be so easy. It would be easier if you didn’t find Min Yoongi so fucking sexy, your body automatically backing up at his declaration. Condoms already in a pile on your nightstand. It would be easier if this was casual as everyone else saw it. If this was just sex. But this so obviously wasn’t just sex, the anticipation palpable as Yoongi rolled down the condom, staring down at your body.

Your tongue circled your open lips, holding your legs against your chest as he bent down.

One hand on the back of your knee.

Both of you gasping as he entered, deeper, the fluttering in your lungs disrupting your breathing. His hand slid down, covering yours, right there.

No more space.

Completed.

You let Yoongi pull your wrist away and pin it to the mattress. Rolled your hips into his, forgetting you didn’t care about anybody as he filled you up, hitting the best spot that made your mind go blank and your lashes flutter. His breathing deepening, thrusting hard into you, your pussy tightening around him each time he bottomed out. Harder. Steady, powerful, slamming you back into the mattress. You pushing back against him. The sound between you wet and loud and obscene, his grip on your wrist tightening, your legs on his shoulders, his hair over his eyes.

His body telling you everything.

He tried to escape the strength of his own emotions but the sex would never feel this good if Yoongi didn’t care.

The first kisses were a dare turned addictive. The first touches were meant to make you wet and make you want something you couldn’t have. But you wanted his selfishness. His carnal need, his husky groan, his inescapable hold, his hard cock pounding you and your pussy throbbing around him. You wanted his body to make you crazy and forget anything but how to feel, deeper, shuddering, the brief rise your only chance to breathe, your eyes rolling back, heart dropping, the ecstasy boiling up from below in vicious flinches racing through your veins, right there, the euphoric high almost unbearable as he fucked you through it.

You glanced down and saw his back in the mirror behind your joined bodies, broad shoulders flexed and shimmering with sweat.

Looked back and he was watching you.

Yoongi smirked.

“Like what you see?”

You didn’t miss a beat.

“Fuck yeah.”

His smirk widened, genuinely amused.

He lowered his torso, pressing into you. Your wrist sliding up, his weight pinning you down, again, again, his erratic pants mirroring your heartbeat, suddenly feeling more breathless than before, feeling the intensity of his gaze even if you closed your eyes, meeting his thrusts with the same earnestness and honesty, unable to hide under the pressure, his name escaping your lips, Yoongi, soft, pleading, meaning something else.

He murmured your name too, breathless with want, and it wasn’t about your body.

His grip on your wrist tightened.

Your pussy squeezed all around his twitching cock, blinding pleasure bleeding into every nerve, racing sparks over your scalp, briefly seeing his head tip back through the haze of lust, his hair falling back, his expression exposed. His eyes closed, glistening cheekbones, mouth open, moaning with you, the muscles of his neck and chest prominent, burying deep into you so you could feel every centimeter of his length pulsing in harmony, orgasm to orgasm, your thighs shaking against his shuddering chest, causing you forget where you ended and he began.

His hand let go.

Slipped up, his fingers intertwining with yours.

You gasped.

Searching for air or perhaps due to the rambunctious butterflies fluttering underneath your thundering heartbeat. Who knew. Yoongi couldn’t look at you again and it wasn’t because he was suddenly polite and saving your dignity. You had nothing to be ashamed about, visually, even with your hair a mess and you breathing hard from exertion.

“You’re still good-looking,” you managed to pant out.

His eyes darted to you in half-disbelief. “What?”

You gave him a small little smile. He let go of your hand to back up and give you space even though it was clear there wasn’t any space between you and him anymore. Even when he pulled out and peeled off the condom, backing away from you to clean up a bit, there was nothing between you and him. You could tell when he came back bearing a warm, damp towel, gently wiping between your legs, hesitating when you sucked in a quick breath. You motioned him to continue, tingling with sensitivity, leaving one hand to rest on his forearm.

Yoongi retreated, giving you space.

It was only a moment, enough for him to put the towel back on the bathroom sink counter, and then he was against you again, you sliding between his arms, lips on him, leaving marks on his fair skin, reminding him he was yours even though he already was.

He didn’t tell you to stop.

Yoongi wrapped his arms around your waist and gasped softly, humming in approval.

Even that made you wet between your legs.

That was how you knew you were fucked.

His fingers fanned out over your back. His lips grazed over your temple as you rose. Nose to nose, breathing him in. Secrets unfolding one by one. You didn’t ask him to stay. You held him to you and he belonged in the bed with you. Neither of you reached for your phones to check the time, choosing instead to tangle your limbs together, drinking in his trembling exhale, staring at each other under lidded eyes.

Just sex?

“You’re not only sex to me,” Yoongi whispered, so quietly that you wouldn’t have heard him without being this close.

“Neither are you,” you breathed, your lips grazing his. “I don’t think you ever were.”

His inhale stilled.

His palms pressed against your back, bringing your chest to his.

Heart to heart.

“Must be my good fortune.”

Yoongi gave you a little smile. You could feel it and see the warmth in his dark brown eyes. He had tried to hide it behind his disinterested gaze, behind his growing hair length, behind his rough touch, but you could always see it and you had pretended not to give a fuck, thinking you weren’t ready, never ready to believe in someone. People loved to prove you wrong. But Yoongi wasn’t just anyone.

You only needed one to prove you wrong.

“I going to make you a set of my keys.”

You laughed as Yoongi rolled you over and pinned you to the mattress, his smirk against your neck, making his own marks on you after his declaration.

--

masterpost

Amazing Digital Mollusks!

(Image ID: All the main digital circus characters on a leopard print backdrop. They are all now mollusks. It says “WOW!” at the bottom, which is ripped straight from Darly Boxman. end ID)

Pomni: Dumbo Octopus

Ragatha: Land Snail

Jax: Nudibranch

Gangle: Marine Flatworm

Kinger: Coconut Octopus

Zooble: Squid

Caine: Clam

Bubble: Bubble

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH

Playing with fire!

Lovely, wonderful, and all other great epithets @willowthewispp (check out her art if you haven’t yet, she’s amazing!) asked me for a reddie poem, and here’s the end result! It ended up being a fae poem, because that’s the direction my brain took as soon as she mentioned elves. I used a little but of book canon (specifically eye colours) here, and the rest just happened. 

As always, open for better quality.